Page 6 of Naughty Santa

“The kids around here aren’t fussy as long as they can rattle off their long lists of dream toys to someone. Plus, the fake white beard and wig help age me enough to fool the youngest ones. The rest probably know it’s me, but they play along anyway. You realize Lydia’s house is close, right? You could have gone there to rest.”

Paris shrugged. “Sandy was in a hurry to get to the dentist, and I got the sense she needed someone to run the store while she was gone. I took the red-eye flight here. Got a little woozy, so I thought I’d grab a quick power nap.” She glanced at her watch, her eyes widening. “Holy shit. Three hours ago.” She hopped up quickly, somewhat disoriented and panicked.

“It’s okay. Mom called me a little while ago to say it was taking longer than she thought. She asked me to come check up on you.”

“But what if someone needed to come in?”

Joe shrugged. “The world’s not going to stop spinning just because the Holly Jolly Feed and Seed was closed for a few hours. Though I suspect the afternoon business is going to pick up because of the snowstorm coming.”

“Yeah, your mom told me about that. Ten inches.”

As if on cue, there was a loud banging on the front door of the store. The Holly Jolly wasn’t usually closed this time of day, and if someone had driven into town to pick up an order, they’d sit out front for hours if needed until someone opened.

Joe looked at his watch. “That’ll probably be Roger. Mom said he’d be stopping by this afternoon to pick up his order.”

Paris sighed, her smile fading as she stood. “Duty calls then, I guess.”

Her resigned tone caught him by surprise. His mother had assured him Lydia’s niece was coming to North Pole to take over the store. Now, as Paris stood and pulled her jacket back on, he took a good look at her. She really was beautiful, but it only took him two seconds to see the California girl did not fit in here with her high-heeled boots that no sane person would walk on ice in and that tiny cheetah coat that wouldn’t cover enough to keep her warm.

“I’m going to finish trying this on. Mom should be back soon. Once she gets here, we can get your bags, and I’ll take you over to Lydia’s house.”

Paris took two steps toward him, and Joe was surprised when she stopped right in front of him. With only a few inches between them, he could see the green specks in her rich-brown eyes and the pink spots of color on her cheeks that darkened when she reached up and played with the white ball at the end of his Santa cap. “You still owe me a big package,” she teased before turning and walking out front.

Joe dropped down on the couch, trying to shake some sense into his head. Paris was going to be trouble with a capital T. Women like her didn’t stay in North Pole.

Hell, it wasn’t just women like her. Apparently, it was any woman he was interested in.

He’d dated two women in his life, just two. Most of his friends who’d remained in North Pole after graduation had married their high school sweethearts, and Joe had expected to do the same.

Rose. Sweet Rose. His first love. They’d started dating during their sophomore year, and he constantly talked about their future, about marriage and kids, and Rose had been right there with him, dreaming the same dreams. It wasn’t until after they graduated that he realized Rose intended to live out those dreams somewhere—anywhere—else. He’d been blindsided, then devastated when he told her he intended to stay in North Pole, and she said she didn’t. She broke things off and moved to Chicago.

Joe had a rough few years after that, constantly questioning whether he’d been right to let Rose leave town without him. The problem was while Rose knew North Pole wasn’t where she belonged, he knew it was the only place he’d ever be happy. Besides, who the hell chose to live in Chicago?

Then he met Anna, who’d left her big city life in Indianapolis to set down roots in North Pole. She’d left a successful career in an HR department of a large corporation to open her own flower shop on Main Street because she longed for a simpler life.

Joe fell head over ass in love with her, and for one year, they were inseparable. Then he made the mistake of proposing to her at the holiday party.

Imagine his surprise when Anna broke down in tears and told him she was closing her shop and moving back to Indianapolis. She’d gotten her old job back because—and thiswas the part that really hurt—she could feel herself shriveling up in this dusty, nowhere town.

He’d come to life during the year they’d spent together, happier than he’d ever been, and she was “shriveling up.”

Leaning his head back against the couch, Joe closed his eyes, blew out a long breath, and willed his erection to go away.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t had sex in two years, so his dick wasn’t going down without a fight. Finally, he stood up, forcing himself to think about the Colts’s lousy season and the death of his beloved dog, Trixie.

Boner gone, he traded out the Santa suit for his jeans and flannel shirt and went out to resist the temptation of a petite brunette who had no idea just how big his package could get.

Paris closedthe door to the backroom to give Joe some privacy as he changed clothes, though that was the last thing she wanted to do. She’d seen some well-built, sexy-as-sin men in her life. After all, she lived in Los Angeles, where beauty was practically a prerequisite, but Joe was something else.

He was earthy and masculine, and he reminded her of a lumberjack. And while she wouldn’t have expected to find that so incredibly arousing, the truth was her nipples were tight, her stomach was twittery, and it took every ounce of strength she had not to turn around and go sit on Santa’s lap.

No.

Not sit.

Straddle.

She actually made a half turn to do just that when the man standing at the counter said, “I’m here to pick up my order.”

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