Page 32 of Wrong Number, Right Santa

“He’s kind,” was her reply. A quick wave and they were gone.

I marveled at her reaction. “Does she know who you are?”

“More senses than knows. And it’s a shame that as the years advance, people forget about what Santa represents.”

“Kindness, generosity, forgiveness, and happiness,” I added.

More children waved to Chris, a few teens asked if they’d met previously, and from a distance, we caught sight of Jonas with his uncle. His broad smile and the bounce in his step had my heart constricting. There was more joy in his life than when we’d met at the Christmas Spectacular, and I liked to think Chris had played a part in that.

We strolled into the kids’ section of a department store, and I picked up the smallest size onesie. “White? Green? Yellow? Plain or with bunnies?”

Chris took one. “Okay, I admit they are very cute.” He rummaged in the large pile. “Are there any with reindeer?”

A sales assistant approached, saying they only had the reindeer and Santa ones closer to Christmas. “But I think we have some of the reindeer in the smallest size in the storeroom.”

The guy raced back, out of breath, waving tiny pieces of fabric above his head. “I found some.” He was more excited than I was. “I have two, but we’ll have more by early October.”

We bought both, and as he was wrapping them, he eyed Chris. “Have you been here before? You look familiar.”

“I don’t think so, but I do get around, so you might have seen me.” My mate gave the guy an extra-large grin.

“Awww, he dredged up memories of Santa.” I took my mate’s arm as we headed for lunch. “I love that. Made me warm and squishy inside.”

“Can we get the food to go?” he asked as we stood in line in the food court.

“You want to eat in the car?” I usually dropped food over myself and the floor, and there was nowhere to wash my hands or dab at the stain on my shirt.

My mate leaned in close, putting his mouth on my ear. “I am hungry for food and other things, and the sooner we get home, the sooner I can satisfy that craving.”

“Food to go it is.”

Chapter 24

Santa

Working while my mate was pregnant was hard.

All I wanted to do was be home, take care of him, indulge all his cravings, rub his feet, and make sure he didn’t do too much. I called it being a good mate. He called it suffocating, though—and he was right. I was being ridiculous.

Most days, I struggled with leaving him, but once I got to the workshop, all was well. There was plenty here to distract me, and I could be back home in a blink.

But today? Today was different.

When I left, I kissed him goodbye like I always did, and he said, “See you later, Santa.”

NotChris, which was what he had come to call me pretty much exclusively in private—Santa.And something about that had me thinking that maybe today was the day.

And the more I tried to distract myself from that notion, the less work I got done. Try as I did, I was unable to let go of that thought.

It wasn’t that being called Santa was outside the norm—everybody called me that. It was my job. It was who I was. But to Dario, I was Chris during our private time.

Until today.

“Santa, you’re gonna break the cup.”

I looked up to see Ryfon there, tablet in hand, pencil ready to go.

“The cup.” He pointed to my hands, which were clutching my demitasse. That wasn’t good. “Your cocoa… you’re squeezing it too hard. It’s going to break.”

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