Page 46 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

Cold.

Controlling.

Silky hands.

Soft, luscious lips.

Fuck.

Dad passes Bubbles off to an assistant. “But today, I’m going to show you some tricks with the biggest gator we’ve got. Say hi to Brutus!”

As Dad launches into his spiel, I start giving Chase the play-by-play. “Watch, he’s gonna make a Christmas joke.”

“If Brutus wrote to Santa, his list would be short: ‘Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is… more snacks!’”

The crowd laughs and then cheers as Dad tosses a fish to Brutus, who catches it mid-air. His powerful jaws close around it in milliseconds, showcasing remarkable speed and accuracy.

“Alligators have exceptional sensory abilities. Their integumentary sense organs can detect the slightest changes in water pressure. They track prey in the murkiest waters, and the best part? They never lose their car keys.”

Chase snorts, a sound that should be unattractive, but on her is somehow endearing.

“You know, growing up, I wanted to be my dad—an alligator wrangler. It’s why I love being called the King of Christmas. I get to bring joy to people like he does.” I turn to her, curiosity getting the better of me. “What was your dad like when you were little? Was he your hero?”

Chase’s expression droops like a wilting flower, her eyes reflecting a hint of sadness. “Let’s just focus on the show,” she snaps.

I sense there’s more to this story, a depth of feeling she’s trying to hide. I want to pull her close, to unravel the mystery that is Chase Pemberton, but—

The crowd’s collective gasp yanks my attention back to the show. Dad’s got his hand in Brutus’ mouth, playing a game of “Will I Keep All My Fingers?” It’s nerve-wracking the first time you see it…Okay, maybe even the one thousandth time.

The second my father pulls his hand out, Brutus chomps down hard, his jaws closing with an audible snap. The audience lets out a mix of relieved sighs and excited squeals.

Dad, ever the showman, beams at the spectators. “Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for my next stunt. The face-off! This ain’t your everyday trick. No, this one is extra dangerous. Get those cameras ready. If I mess up, Iwilllose my face!”

Chase pivots, facing me with wide-eyed horror. “Oh my God, what the hell’s he gonna do?”

“He’s sticking his head into the jaws of the alligator. It’s awesome!”

My dad’s voice booms, building up tension. “Do you know what kind of pressure Brutus’ jaws can exert? A bone-crushing, mind-blowing two thousand pounds per square inch! That’s like having a car dropped on your face!”

Dad takes a deep breath and dramatically opens the alligator’s gnarly jaws. He steadies himself and peers inside. Then, in one swift motion, he places his head into Brutus’ mouth. The group holds its collective breath. For a moment, it’s so quiet you could hear a mosquito fart. Then Dad removes his head, and Brutus’ jaws snap shut. The amphitheater erupts in cheers and camera flashes.

He raises his hands for silence. “Show’s not over yet, folks. We have two special guests in the audience, and they’ll be helping me with an extra trick today.” He pauses, amplifying the suspense. “Now, I’m proud as Gator Punch of my son. You know him as the King of Christmas. Let’s welcome him and his beautiful girlfriend, Chase, to the stage. Because they’ll be giving Brutus here a big ole sloppy kiss!”

The crowd cheers, but all I can focus on is Chase’s sharp intake of breath. Her hand finds mine, gripping tight.

“I’m gonna be sick,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

A fierce, overwhelming, all-consuming need to protect her surges through me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

“I won’t let you get hurt. Trust me,” I say, surprised by the intensity in my voice.

She meets my gaze, and her vulnerability tugs at my heart.Who knew the Ice Queen could melt?She gives a subtle nod, and we step forward together, fingers intertwined.

Dad locks Brutus’s jaws with a special strap, but it does nothing to untie the knot in my gut—not for my safety, but for Chase’s. I trace her knuckles with my thumb, trying to calm her nerves. The excited chatter of the crowd turns into white noise as my focus goes entirely to this woman.

Despite her fear, fire flashes in her eyes. “If my face gets chomped off, I’m going to haunt you every day, not just Christmas,” she says.

A chuckle rumbles in my chest. Even terrified, she’s all spark and sass. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.”

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