Page 47 of Naughty Santa

For a second, Paris thought about going to Joe’s without it, but icy fingers wrapped around her, and she decided to spare a few seconds in favor of warmth. Running back into the Holly Jolly, she headed to the back room. Hanging on a hook was the big ugly coat Joe had given her right next to her cute little zebra print jacket. She’d been wearing the bigger one because it was warmer. It wasn’t fashionable—at all—but no one in North Pole cared about that.

Plus, it felt like Joe was hugging her whenever she wore it, which was kind of a silly thought, but she liked it. He’d given it to her to take care of her, and every time she slipped her arms into the too-big sleeves, she thought of the big arms that, when wrapped around her, made her feel warm and safe and cared for. Her eyes dropped to the boots sitting on the floor under the coat hooks and a plan formed.

Her knees were going to get a little cold, but it would be worth it because she was determined to make a statement.

Five minutes later, her cute elf costume was laying on the floor of the breakroom, and she was in the big coat, with a stocking cap pulled over her ears and her feet shoved into the boots.

She looked like an idiot, but she was warm and prepared to go get her man. Failure was not an option.

Paris tromped down the snowy sidewalk toward the truck, praying no one stopped her for a chat. Then she fired up the truck, realizing it was the first time she’d driven on snow. The thought of attempting such a thing would have terrified her a couple of weeks ago, but now, she just put the vehicle in gear and pressed on the gas.

Once she arrived at Joe’s, she noticed the light was on in his living room.

Her stomach clenched when she realized he’d gone to his own house rather than wait for her at Lydia’s. Or even the store.

Something was definitely wrong.

Paris climbed the outdoor steps to his apartment over Sandy’s garage. The cold air swirled underneath the coat and across parts of her that had never been exposed to temperatures under seventy degrees. She’d nude-sunbathed a couple of times in California, so maybe not even under eighty. Certainly never fifteen degrees.

It was probably dangerous because she needed those parts, but Joe was worth the risk.

She planned to give him about two minutes to answer the door before she’d have to sprint back to the truck and call him from inside the heated cab.

It only took him one.

He threw the door open and frowned down at her. She tried not to panic when he didn’t say anything.

“Hi.”

It was a weak start, but Paris had never told anyone she loved them, so she wasn’t really sure how to begin.

Joe’s expression was unreadable when he offered a wooden, “Hi.”

Paris stuffed her hands in the pockets of his coat, unsure if it was the cold or her nerves causing them to shake.

He hadn’t invited her in.

Why hadn’t he?

“Joe.” Oh great. Now her voice was trembling too.

Enough, she thought.For God’s sake, pull on your big girl panties, Paris.

She took a deep, steadying breath. “I love you, Joe. I’m moving to North Pole. I’m going to move into Lydia’s house permanently because…I want to be with you.”

Apparently, she was just going to go for it.

It didn’t sound as good out loud, but she hoped it got the point across.

His surprise allowed her to step forward, put her hand on his chest, and push him back. Dammit, it was fucking freezing outside.

Paris kicked his door shut behind her once she’d cleared the threshold.

“I have a buyer for the Holly Jolly, but I’m keeping it. I’m staying because I want to live here.”

It took him a long moment, but Joe pulled in a deep breath and shook his head. “We don’t have what you want or need here.”

“That’s not true.”

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