Page 3 of Santa Daddies
Feeling validated by her outrage, I watched Maurice, one of the room attendants, walk past us carrying a Santa suit. When he stopped and opened a door I hadn’t realized was there, my eyes went wide. So did Madeline’s.
Inside was a gorgeous man wearing nothing but a pair of skintight boxers with a Christmas present design right over his package. My face instantly heated. Thankfully the door closed, rescuing him from our impolite staring. My wide gaze moved to Madeline.
“Looks like someone’s getting a big present for Christmas,”my sister blurted, and I choked back a laugh, despite our awful conversation still hanging over my head.
“Was that Sexy Santa?” I whispered.
“It was.” She waggled her brows, staring at the door, but when she turned her full attention back to me, her expression became grumpy again. “Now back to the douche. How could he do this two weeks before Christmas,andyour brother’s wedding? Like hello, have some decency. It’s a two-thousand-dollar-a-plate event.”
I closed my eyes. “Not everything is about the wedding, Madly,” I snapped, lashing out even though I knew that’s not what she meant. “And it’s not that much, because David’s best man isn’t charging anyone for the rooms, since they’re in his private chalet. And he’s providing the catering and activities which he gets at cost since he owns the whole damn resort. Andbesides, when your sister gets cheated on, it affects way more than some seating chart and bottom line. And furthermore, it’s not like he was planning on getting caught, so if I hadn’t forgotten my laptop, he’d still be coming, and I’d be none the wiser.”
“Aw honey, you’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be insensitive. I just want this to go off without a hitch. Charlotte and David deserve a perfect day.”
“I know. And I’m probably being overly sensitive.” I sighed. “It’s just… I’m thirty.”
“You’re twenty-nine,” she corrected.
“I’malmostthirty,” I said, annoyed by her pointing out the technicality. “I wasted too many years with him. And as cliche as it sounds, my biological clock is ticking. I want to get married, have kids and not be an old cat lady.”
“You’re a dog person, Memmy,” she said pragmatically, giving me a flat look. “You don’t just automatically start liking cats when you hit menopause and are still single.”
I slumped, grumbling. “Shut up.”
“Sorry.” Her jaw clenched. “And you settled for him too.”
My eyes cut to hers. “I did not!”
She snorted. “What was it you told me when you moved him into your place, and I said I thought you could do better?”
I blew air out through my lips. “He’s decent-looking, nice enough, and has a good job.” I covered my face with my hands when she motioned for me to continue. “He doesn’t leave the toilet seat up, or forget our anniversary, and what he lacks in bedroom skills, he makes up for in the kitchen.”
I groaned, knowing everything I said proved her point.
“And what did I say?” she asked as if leading a mule to water.
I slumped further, letting my arms fall to my sides. “That I set the bar so low even a worm could crawl over it.”
“What else, Memmy?” she prompted.
“That I was playing it safe, dating someone like him because he was nothing like my ex who’d crushed me.”
“Exactly!” She snapped her fingers and then took me by the shoulders, guiding me toward the party. She got me to the wide double doors, but I suddenly dug in my heels so as not to go all the way inside.
“Oh, my god, I did settle.” I threw up my hands, my mouth drooping in anguish. “And I still got dumped.”
My sister’s eyes slid to the right as a well-endowed elf danced by doorway, but then they were back on mine, sparkling with mischief. “Just another elf, Memmy, you gotta kiss a few of those, before you find your Santa Claus.”
“Madly!” I moaned. “Why you never let that go, I’ll never know. I was five! Every five-year-old loves Santa Claus.”
“Yeah, but you said you were going tomarryhim. What kind of a sister would I be if I didn’t remind you of that?”
“Can we just get back to the party please?” I asked, looking back toward the Christmas lights and sexy elves dancing around. “I don’t want to miss the dancing elf strippers.”
“They’re not strippers. They’reentertainers,and by the way, Sexy Santa Inc donates all the proceeds of these events to children’s Christmas charities every year.”
My brows rose. “Really?”
“Every penny, yes. And these guys are all regular dudes, with regular jobs, who donate their time…” She paused, smirking. “And their skills, out of the goodness of their hearts.” She waves her hand at the dancers. “Or maybe their dicks.”
