Page 170 of Santa Daddies
“What if this is a sign?” I ask.
Jolene takes the paper from my hands and holds it up. “It is a sign. Read it.”
When I stare blankly, she points to her name and says, “Jolene, that’s me.” Pointing to Starla, she reads her name. Then sliding her finger back and forth under my name, she says, “Bellamie, that’s you.”
“I know, but–”
“And then, Molly.” She moves her finger down. “There are four of us now. It’s a sign. You helped make sure she wasincluded, the same way as you made sure I was. Now we’re going to return the favor.”
They give me a second, then Starla says, “Dating’s a crapshoot, Bellamie. You don’t even know if Krampus will show up on Sunday.”
“Or why he won’t tell you his name.” Jolene steps toward the door.
They’re right. After all, Krampus was a little too perfect. Probably nothing more than a smooth- talker who knows exactly what to say to get into a woman’s pants.
Starla hugs me. “Ready to give the auction a chance?”
“Yes,” I say, trusting that everything will work out.
“She’s in, Laz,” Jolene calls through the open door.
“Oh shoot, I have to meet the babysitter for the woobie handoff.” Slipping my shoes on and grabbing my keys, I rush out of the dressing room.
Laz does a double take as I rush past him. I give him a thumbs up and head outside. The cold evening air is a shock but the babysitter should be here any minute so I rush to my car. The dress is designed for sex appeal, not warmth, barely covering from my breasts to my butt.
Grabbing the blanket out of the backseat, I hear my name from the person I least want to see right now.
Loren.
Closing the door, I turn to find him rushing toward me.
His face is as red as his Santa costume, minus the facial hair. “I thought it was a fucking rumor.”
“What?” There was a point when I would have been ecstatic to see him at the auction, but I’m not in the mood for his meddling. Now I worry that if he was here to buy me, it would only be to prevent anyone else from doing so.
“You’re in the auction?” His gaze travels slowly over my exposed skin. All the times I paraded myself in front of himuselessly pale in comparison to the reality that if he buys me, he has to have sex with me and give me an orgasm. I’d be even more on board if I could have the Santa-Krampus duo, but that’s even less likely.
“I’m not here to bid on anyone. What about you?” Who would he pick? Jolene? Starla? He couldn’t have known about Molly.
“I was on my way to a private party when I heard. You can’t do this, Bellamie.” He’s angry, to be sure, but there’s more to his tone. He’s pleading with me.
“You don’t get to control me, Loren. Go back to your party.”
“I got someone else to fill in.”
The babysitter pulls up beside me and rolls down her window. Picking up on the tense vibe, she takes the woobie, thanks me, and leaves quickly.
“Why would you do something like this?” Loren asks.
“Because I want to.”
He rubs his temples, presumably recognizing there’s nothing he can do to stop me.
As if my situation wasn’t complicated enough, the possibility of Loren winning me feeds my long-time fantasy–as long as he does what winners are supposed to do, even if it is just a grudge fuck. And since he would never tell our parents, that would leave me free to meet Krampus on Sunday.
Has it been like this for other winners and they just kept the complications quiet?
Rubbing my arms, I say, “I’m freezing. I’m going inside. And I’m going through with this.”
