Page 22 of The Santa of the Mountain

“It brought me to your door.”

I swallow, staring at those holly berry red fingernails as they toy with the fringe of the blanket on her lap. I wonder how they’d look digging into my back. Wrapped around my—I clear my throat as I readjust my position. “So fate’s been good to both of us today.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she says smiling. And then: “Kidding. You’re right.” The wind slams against the cabin and Kate jumps. “I’d almost forgotten about the storm,” she says, turning her head toward the front door. Flecks of white movepast the exterior lights so fast that they look like string. A white wall. I thought we were over the worst of it but I guessed wrong.

“We’ll be safe here, right?”

“Couldn’t think of a safer place.”

Except in my arms. In our bed. Clinging to each other beneath the sheets.

“I’ve never been through a storm like this before.”

“Baptism by fire.”

“I’d say so.”

She stares at me, and I stare back at her. I could look at her all night. All day.Forever, and I’d never get my fill.

“I can’t even remember what we were talking about.”

“Your match made in hell.”

She snorts. “That’s a way of putting it. He’s the one who gifted me that sweater.”

“The one you can see from space?”

She nods. “Hear too. Well, I’ll save you the full run-down but we went on a sleigh ride and it didn’t go as planned. He drank some of his homemade, spoiled eggnog and emptied his stomach into pristine snow.” She swallows. “I think his bowels too but Rudolph was already taking off into the forest with me.”

I sputter, choking on my tea. After a few moments and another couple of sips, I recover.

“Not expecting that.”

“That makes two of us.”

I shake my head as I stare at Kate. She’s gorgeous. Like no woman I’ve ever met.

“He brought a CD of his own Christmas music. He told me it wasn’t the second time eggnog made him violently ill. He owns his own year-round Christmas store. He ran the last woman in his life out by trying to bring The Twelve Days of Christmas to life… in July.”

I laugh. “Has he seenThe Office?”

Her eyes flare as she jabs a finger at me. “That’s what I said! He had no idea what I was talking about.”

“Sounds like Mr. Christmas wasn’t a perfect match.”

She stares at me. “That’s what I nicknamed him.”

I motion between us. “Same wavelength.”

“Guess so.” And then a few moments later, she adds, “So you can understand why I was a little freaked out to find Santa Claus opening that door. I wantednothingto do with Christmas after that.”

“Well, you’ve got your Christmas miracle. There won’t be a Christmas tree. Won’t be eggnog either,” I add with a wink. “Today was my last day as Santa and I’m hanging up the hat and suit.”

She shakes her head. “A Santa who hates Christmas. I thought I’d seen it all.”

“I wouldn’t say I hate it. I’d say it’s complicated.”

“More complicated than my day.”

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