Page 53 of Jam and Jingle Bells
Holly clapped excitedly. “The Nightingale Diner! He works there.”
“Right! The Nightingale Diner. He was flipping hotcakes and he looked right at me, but it was like he didn’t see me. He put the hotcakes in the window and turned right around.”
“Maybe he just didn’t see you.”
“I was leaning on the window. Everyone else who believes in me saw me standing there, but not Mason.”
“Why, Santa? Why couldn’t he see you?’
Santa shrugged and sipped from his hot cocoa again. “If you want to know my guess, I think it’s because he doesn’t feel the Christmas magic this year. You have to be filled with Christmas magic to see me.”
Holly frowned and scratched her head. “But I can see you, and Mom and Addie can see you, so we must have Christmas magic in us?”
He nodded, solemnly, but with genuine dedication. “You do. It’s hiding in there somewhere,” he said, tickling her belly. “I think it’s because of your name. Your name is Holly, so you always carry the Christmas magic with you, even when you aren’t feeling the jolliest. Maybe you can share some of it with Mason.” He glanced up at Mel. “If you see Mason, tell him I’m checking my inbox.” He winked and Mel played along.
“I sure will, Santa!” she called, waving.
Santa patted Holly’s shoulder. “I must dash now. Be a good girl and I’ll see you real soon.”
Santa waved and strolled off down the path hummingSanta Claus is Coming to Town. I watched him disappear through the woods and Mel put her arm around me, her lips near my ear.
“Seriously, Addie, don’t let that Santa get away.”
Chapter Fifteen
I was parked behind the yoga studio when Santa’s sleigh pulled in, jingle bells swaying from the rearview mirror. He saw me, and his eyes strayed to the travel trailer parked next to the building, electric hooked into the wall. He climbed out of the truck, his Santa coat open, the big belly gone, but the pants and boots still in place. He’d lost the beard and wig, which was probably in the duffel bag he’d grabbed and tossed over his shoulder.
I climbed from my car and walked right into him, pushing him up against the truck and holding him tightly. “You’re the best Santa ever,” I whispered.
His arm came around me and he nuzzled my neck, his breath warm against my skin. “I’ve missed you.”
“We just saw each other yesterday,” I said, still holding him tightly to me and rubbing his back.
“With an eight-year-old in tow,” he teased, kissing my neck. “Let’s go inside where it’s warmer.”
I released him and followed him to the studio door where he unlocked it and pushed it open for me. I followed him in and he tossed his bag in the office. “If you want to wait a minute, I’ll change my clothes and then we can grab some dinner, or maybe go to your place and watch a Christmas movie on that giant TV screen?”
I sidled up to him, determined to get the truth about his living situation. “We could go to my place and have dinner and a movie. I have to stop eating out or I’ll look like Mrs. Claus,” I said, patting my tummy.
He smiled and kissed me, with tongue, until I couldn’t breathe and my arms were wrapped around his neck. “You can be my Mrs. Claus, no matter your size,” he promised, when he ended the kiss. He nipped my lip again and then released me to rub his chest.
“You okay?” I asked when he grimaced, but he nodded.
“Yeah, I’ve had heartburn since we ate that pizza last night. I’ll be fine.”
“All those kids climbing up and down today probably didn’t help,” I teased, running my hand up and down his scar through his shirt. “Imagine my surprise when I realized I’d been kissing Santa Claus.”
He laughed, his lips on mine instantly and he pushed me up against the wall, hidden from the window by the office. His hands were everywhere, and mine were under his shirt, planted firmly on his chest, which quivered with pent up passion. He broke the kiss and bent over, his breath coming in slow bursts while he rubbed his chest.
“Okay, something is wrong,” I said, my hand on his back, but he waved his hand at me.
“My ICD just kicked. Apparently, kissing you is hard on Santa’s heart,” he joked, pecking my lips again when he stood up.
“Does it hurt?” I asked, following him to his office where he took a bottle of pills from a drawer and swallowed one, dry.
“It doesn’t feel great, but I’m used to it. I get shocked a lot, it comes with the disease. These are pills to regulate my heart. I was late taking it since I stayed longer at the park than I planned.”
I made him sit and sat across from him, planting a hand on each leg. “To make sure a little girl discovered the magic of Santa.”
