Page 12 of Santa Loves Curvy Girls

Maybe I should’ve thought of that before, I thought to myself.

When I walked out in my costume, Santa was already there, saying hi and talking to people.

I hadn’t seen him when I’d first arrived, but it made sense that whoever was behind the suit wouldn’t get ready here.

I’d saved a few cookies especially for him, since he’d liked them so much last time.

My stomach swirled with nerves just at the thought of going up to him, but I grabbed a bag of chocolate chip cookies and walked his way to say hi.

“Belle,” he said. “Hi.”

He knew my name? I quickly racked my mind, trying to remember if I’d told him my name.

“Hi,” I replied, walking up to him. We stood near the winter wonderland backdrop where we’d be working together for the next several hours.

“More cookies?” he asked. Once again, the only part of his face I could really see were his sparkling blue eyes. Everything else was hidden by his disguise, and part of me ached to see the rest of his face.

I nodded and handed him the bag of cookies. “For you,” I told him. “Chocolate chip this time.”

His white eyebrows raised a little in surprise. “Really? How thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

My face felt hot, and I clasped my hands nervously. “You’re welcome. Baking is one of my favorite things to do.”

“That’s impressive,” he said.

I felt my face turning hot again. Before I could say anything, one of the elves came and grabbed him, whisking him away.

He was an important guy. Too important to stand around talking to me, that’s for sure.

Later, when our shift was finally over and I was about ready to collapse, he came up to me again. The cookies I’d given him earlier were in his hand.

“You did a great job again today,” I told him. “You’re so good with the kids.”

His eyes crinkled. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m starting to think maybe I should study to be a teacher or something.”

A clue,I thought. So he hadn’t finished college yet. That confirmed why he seemed so young.

“You totally should,” I replied.

“Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks again for these,” he said, holding up the cookies.

“You’re welcome,” I said, getting ready to say goodbye and leave. He was just being polite. No one like him had ever acted interested in me before.

“Has anyone ever told you that you should be a professional baker?” he asked.

My heart lifted at the compliment, but I had to tell him the truth. “Most people think it’s just a hobby, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

His brows knitted together. “A hobby? That’s like saying Lebron James has a hobby of playing basketball. Or that Lionel Messi has a hobby of playing soccer.”

I smiled. “I don’t know who that is, but I’ll take your word for it.”

He pulled a cookie out of the bag and took a bite. “Mm, definitely not a hobby.”

My smile grew wider. Were those butterflies in my stomach again? Couldn’t be. I tried to ignore them.

“I was going to ask you… How do you make all the different shapes? I always wondered how people did that.”

Was he really asking me to nerd out right now? “Well, I always shape mine by hand. But there’s actually a special machine that professional bakers use to shape cookies faster and easier. It’s a whole thing,” I said, making myself not go on and on about it.

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