Page 27 of Ewan

“Can we do something about that?”

“Do your thing. You’re not bothering me. But it won’t work. I tried. That’s why I was late.”

I pull at the sides and try to button down his jacket.

No luck.

Plus, the moment he makes the slightest move, the buttons threaten to pop. I leave it as is and work with his long beard to hide the display of skin.

His body is rock hard, and I refuse to look down.

I truly don’t want to do it, but even so, my eyes get snagged by the big bulge moving in his pants.

“It’s only a semi. And it’s only half because of you.”

“What’s responsible for the other half?” I murmur, playing along, not flinching.

“Being pissed gets me hard.”

He winks at me again.

Half annoyed, half not-so-annoyed.

“Okay, Mr. Santa. You need to watch your language when you talk to the kids.”

He shakes his head impatiently, about to argue with me.

“I’m not talking to anyone besides you. This is how this thing will go down. You hand me those packages, one by one, and tell me their names and a thing or two about theirpersonalities so I can make it special. They stand next to me for pictures. And that’s that. We move quickly since I don’t have the entire evening. All right?”

I look at him, speechless.

“Okay,” I finally say, and then my eyes slide down. “You need to lose your semi, though, or there won’t be any work for you tonight.”

He slides down, places his empty sack of gifts on his lap, and signals to a table.

“Bring me a cold bottle of water and give me five minutes. And then, we’ll be dispensing gifts.”

6

EWAN

Knock me over with a feather.

Off all the things that happened tonight.

The time wasted at the bar.

The blonde hitting on me.

The bad news about my son.

The conversation I had with him.

The favor I was asked.

The room filled with kids with sparkling eyes and parents sipping on their drinks.

I’m now hard because of this woman’s little ass?

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