Page 2 of Celebrating the Season

I sidled up to the bar, my fingers tapping an erratic rhythm on the sticky surface. It took a while before it was my turn, but I didn’t mind. Watching the bartender work was a pleasure in itself. Probably around my father’s age, he was a mountain of a man, built like a goddamn wall, and his muscles rippled every time he moved. His shirt was so tight that I feared one good flex would rip it, but I wasn’t complaining.

Was he straight? I prided myself on a near-perfect gaydar, but I couldn’t get a good read on him. Because seriously, if he was into men and liked twinks, I would happily let him pound me against a wall. Or over the edge of a table. Or even a restroom sink. I wasn’t particular about these things.

My eye fell on his ring. Of course he was married. The good ones always were. Sigh.

I waved to get his attention, and he came over.

“Hi, I’m Boaz.” I batted my eyes at him in case it wasn’t a wedding ring.

He flashed me a grin. “Jack.”

I pointed at his ring. “You taken?”

His face lit up with the goofiest, lovesick smile ever. Dammit. “Very much so. Sorry, kid.” He pointed at the guy rinsing glasses. “That’s my man, Sawyer.”

The dude was equally good-looking, though with a very different build. Damn, they grew ’em hot in this little town. “It’s a little unfair that two super-hot guys are together,” I complained. “Leave some for the rest of us, would ya?”

Jack laughed, a sexy, low rumble. “I’m way too old for you, kid.”

“Nah. I like my men well-seasoned.” I sighed dramatically. “Well, if you’re ever in the mood for some fun with a third, hit me up, okay? I do a mean spitroast.”

His eyes widened. “You’re direct.”

I shrugged. “No sense in beating around the bush when you know what you want, right? Anyway, can I get something sweet, fruity, and with plenty of alcohol?”

“Sure. Bahama Mama sound good?”

“Make it a Bahama Daddy, and it sounds perfect.”

He was still laughing when he handed me my drink two minutes later. “Here ya go, kid. Try to stay out of trouble.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“Boaz! There you are, you little troublemaker,” a familiar voice rang out. I turned to see Uncle Desmond—not really my uncle, but as Jesse’s father, he might as well be—waving enthusiastically. He was local to this little town of Forestville and was the reason my father and Hawk met. Which he reminded them of every chance he got.

“Hey, Uncle Desmond.” I leaned in for a hug. “How’s life treating you? Still terrorizing the Bingo hall?”

He swatted my arm playfully. “Watch it, you. I’ll have you know I’m the reigning champion six weeks running.”

I laughed, the sound mingling with the cacophony of voices and clinking glasses around us. At least everyone seemed to be having fun.

“So…” Uncle Desmond leaned in conspiratorially. “Any handsome fellas caught your eye lately?”

I groaned internally. He always asked. “Uncle Desmond, you know I’m?—”

The words died in my throat as the door swung open, a hush falling over the room. My jaw dropped, my drink forgotten as I took in the sight before me.

“Oh, Santa is here,” Jesse said.

Santa had arrived, all right. But this was no jolly old man with a belly like a bowl full of jelly. No, this Santa was tall, built like a linebacker, with biceps straining against the red velvet of his suit. The white trim accentuated broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, and the beard—which was real and thus shorter and more salt and pepper than white—couldn’t hide the sharp line of his jaw.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, my heart doing a weird flutter. Was it hot in here, or was it me?

As Santa’s piercing blue eyes scanned the room, they locked on mine for a brief, electrifying moment. A jolt of excitement shot through me, mixed with a healthy dose of curiosity and…something else I couldn’t quite name.

I licked my suddenly dry lips, my mind racing. Who was this guy? And, more importantly, how the hell was I going to get him out of that suit?

Santa’s deep, resonant voice filled the room as he greeted everyone with a “Ho, ho, ho!” that sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he made his way through the crowd, his movements confident and purposeful as he greeted the two grooms, wishing them well, before moving on to the other guests.

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