Page 18 of Here Comes Santa Paws

“Anything.” My voice was breathy. I licked my lips.

“You’re my handler. Not some random volunteer.”

He wanted me there with him? Maybe I wasn’t the only one thinking there was some chemistry here. “You got it.” I leaned in. Not intentionally, but I felt compelled, like there was a magnet between us. I needed to know what he tasted like.

The coffee machine dinged, and Roman dropped his arm and stepped back.

Now that I’d felt how my body fit against his, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop thinking about it. Fantasizing about my sexy neighbor from my side of the duplex was one thing, butknowingthe grip of his arm around my waist was another.

I knew that taking photos for my event was likely the absolute last way he wanted to spend a Sunday morning, but he’d agreed anyway. To help me, to help the shelter animals, to mix things up on his Sunday—it didn’t matter. He was like a hedgehog with his prickly exterior and soft underbelly. I could feel my crush taking a more solid shape.

He moved to pour our coffees. Instead of hopping on the counter and inviting him to ravish me, I accepted the drink and talked him through what to expect from the event.

Kissing my neighbor probably wasn’t the best idea, but now that I’d started thinking about it, I knew I’d obsess over the prospect until it happened. If it did.

Chapter 10

Roman

The singerof the live band performing at Sugar Plum Park during the pet photos and adoption event crooned “Jingle Bell Rock”like he was Mick Jagger belting out a hit song at Madison Square Garden. I might not enjoy the song, but I respected the dedication to his craft.

As I rested my finger on the shutter of my camera, I tried to muster the same dedication for pet photography as I had for landscape pictures.

“Can you take one more? I want to fix his reindeer antlers.” The woman wearing matching ones to her flat-faced dog shifted the animal’s headband mere millimeters to one side, then stepped back and gave me a go-ahead gesture.

The guy in the Santa suit had the patience of a saint. He simply ho-ho-ho’d through all the anxious animals and fussy owners.

I snapped another photo of the dog trying to squirm out of Santa’s grip. Santa had a good hold though. Otherwise, the dog had a long fall from the sleigh Elias had borrowed from somewhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had connections at the North Pole. I nearly smiled at the thought.

Some of these people acted like they’d spent hundreds of dollars for a private pet photo session instead of standing in line at a busy park among a dozen other people waiting for their free photos.

Why the hell did I agree to this?

I glanced at Elias, who looked ridiculous in the elf hat tugged low over his ears as he led more pets and people to Santa. As though he sensed my attention, he turned toward me and flashed a bright smile. Without my permission, my lips lifted slightly in a closed-mouth smile. His enthusiasm was as contagious as a yawn, and his presence was as distracting as a tap-dancing reindeer.

I kept looking over at him and remembering what he felt like in my arms. I’d spent half the night tossing and turning while imagining he tasted like gingerbread. When I finally did fall sleep, my brain conjured filthy dreams. Getting a glimpse of his fierce protectiveness over the animals had messed with my brain—smashing the image I’d had of him as someone with more positivity than substance. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to like the guy. God, he’d love that too. Winning over the neighborhood Grinch.

I had to give him credit—he’d fulfilled his promise of minimizing my interaction with people.

“Thanks for stopping by.” Elias led the picky woman to a table where a volunteer named Nancy sold calendars.

I eavesdropped on Elias’s well-practiced spiel as the next pet parents Velcroed a Santa hat over their squirming cat’s head.

“This has information about where to collect the photos online. There’s also a donation link in case you’d like to help us pay for the construction work to repair damage from a massive leak in our shelter. Nancy also has wall calendars available for sale. The photos are of animals we had in the shelter this year. They’re adorable! And if you’re ever interested in adoptinganother cutie patootie into your home, there’s info about that as well.”

The woman looked dazed by the avalanche of information as she clutched her wheezing dog.

“The QR code is how I can donate?”

Elias nodded at her. “Anything you can spare would help immensely. Thanks for coming by.”

The woman thanked Elias before marching to Nancy and asking for three calendars.

Elias winked at me before telling the party at the front of the line to pick out any accessories they’d like to use from the table.

I chuckled and shook my head as I prepared to snap more photos.

It wasn’t the most thrilling photography I’d done, but I had to admit I didn’t hate it. Landscape photography was satisfying, and I loved the final product, but it was kind of entertaining to see all the goofy animals in their absurd costumes. It made people happy, and I didn’t hate it. I couldn’t have a dog of my own with how often I moved, but I liked being around them.

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