Page 17 of Falling for Santa

“Why don’t you come in?” Megan said suddenly, stepping back to let him inside.

Scott hesitated, then followed her into the warm bungalow. Ruby had already settled on the couch, flipping through her book and excitedly pointing out each page to Mr. Bear.

Megan gestured toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea?”

Scott shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.” He leaned against the doorway, taking in the cozy space. “You’ve made this place feel like home.”

Megan glanced around, her lips curving into a small smile. “It’s getting there. Slowly but surely.”

Scott nodded, watching as Ruby giggled at something in her book. “She’s settling in well.”

“She is,” Megan said, her voice softening. “Better than I expected, honestly. She loves the beach, and Gertrude’s been great with her. It’s been a relief.”

Scott met her gaze, his voice gentle. “You’re doing a great job, Megan. You’ve got a good thing going here.”

Megan tilted her head, studying him. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

The quiet stretched between them, warm and unhurried. Scott felt a pull to say more, to share the thoughts that had been circling in his mind all evening.

“I get why you came here,” he said finally. “Palmar Island has a way of growing on you. It’s peaceful. Simple.”

Megan nodded, her expression thoughtful. “It’s different from what I’m used to, but I think it’s what Ruby and I need right now.”

Scott smiled, the sincerity in her voice settling something inside him. “If there’s anything you need—advice, help with anything—don’t hesitate to ask.”

Megan’s guard seemed to lower just a fraction as she offered him a small, grateful smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Scott pushed off the doorway, glancing at Ruby, who was now curled up with her book and Mr. Bear. “I should let you get her to bed. Just wanted to drop these off.”

“Scott,” Megan said as he turned toward the door.

He paused, looking back.

“This means a lot,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his. “Thank you.”

Scott tipped his head slightly, a faint smile on his lips. “Anytime.”

As he walked back into the crisp night, the glow of Christmas lights lining the street, Scott felt a quiet sense of purpose. Megan and Ruby were still finding their footing, but he wanted to do whatever he could to help them feel at home.

“She deserves this,” he thought, picturing Ruby’s laughter and the soft gratitude in Megan’s eyes.

With his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, Scott smiled to himself, already thinking of what he might do next.

Chapter Seven

Megan hustled through the Santa’s Village gates, coffee in one hand and her elf hat dangling from her other. The warm December sun didn’t help her mood. It made her costume feel stifling before the day had even begun. Ruby had woken up cranky, clinging to her legs as if sensing Megan’s rush to get out the door. It had taken longer than usual to settle her with Gertrude, and Megan had barely managed to escape without tears—Ruby’s or her own.

Now she was running late, flustered, and acutely aware of how ridiculous she must look. A mother juggling coffee and work was nothing new, but doing it in striped tights and jingling bells added an extra layer of absurdity. She shoved her hat onto her head as she approached the crafts station, where a group of kids was already swarming, their laughter and shouts merging into a cacophony.

The holiday atmosphere at Santa’s Village felt more chaotic than usual. A school group had descended on the Village for a special field trip, and the sheer number of excited children seemed to multiply the usual noise and activity. Megan took a deep breath, plastering on her best elf smile as she stepped into the fray.

“All right, who’s ready to make some Christmas ornaments?” she called out, grabbing a bin of supplies. A few cheers erupted, but most of the kids were already diving into glitter, glue, and popsicle sticks without waiting for instructions. Megan quickly got to work, moving between tables, encouraging creativity while dodging glue-covered hands and the occasional spill.

By mid-afternoon, she was exhausted. Her hat sat crooked on her head, and glitter seemed permanently embedded in her costume. She glanced toward the snack table, contemplating a much-needed water break, when a sudden movement near Cupid’s pen caught her eye.

The reindeer stood proudly outside the open pen, his ears flicking as if he were relishing his newfound freedom.

“Oh no,” Megan muttered, setting down a stack of craft supplies.

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