Page 9 of Baby It's Cold Outside

Unbelievable.

She was practically a stranger and here he was, spilling his guts to her.

Big mistake. He needed to get going. Like now.

And yet there was no pity in her face when she looked at him. Just warmth and understanding. “I apologize for being pushy and nosy. Come in and have some coffee and warm up.”

He should say no. Make an excuse. Drive away as fast as the snow would let him.

But there was something about her he couldn’t resist, and he found himself saying thank you, locking his car, and following her into the house.

She ushered him through to the kitchen, put the kettle on, and started preheating the oven. Then she rummaged in the fridge, took out a roll of gingerbread dough, and in a flash she’d cut a few slices off and put them on a tray and they were baking in the oven.

“Given that you’re a pastry chef, I’m not going to be rude and suggest that’s store-bought dough you keep in there,” Mitch said lightly.

“No, I made it this morning. That’s part of the batch I’m planning to cook tomorrow before I visit Aunt Betty—something for the nurses on duty.” She shook coffee grounds into a French press and made two mugs of coffee. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Neither, thanks.”

She added a lot of milk to one mug, and handed him the other. “Would you excuse me for a moment while I change out of the elf costume?”

“Sure.”

“Take a seat in the living room. I’ll bring the gingerbread through when I’m dressed.”

Mitch wandered into the hallway and sipped his coffee while Ellie headed up the stairs. A mistletoe ball hung from the ceiling on a red ribbon, and he was tempted to linger there, so the Chief Elf might take the hint and kiss Santa underneath the mistletoe.

He smiled wryly. That would be pushing her too far. And hadn’t she suggested that he wait for her in the living room? He went through the doorway to the living room and discovered that it faced onto the street. The huge Christmas tree in one corner was a real one rather than artificial, and the decorations on the branches were perfectly arranged. Mitch was pretty sure they were homemade rather than store-bought, just as he was sure that either Ellie or Betty had made the evergreen garland draped along the mantelpiece. There were dozens of cards on display, too.

How different from his own flat. He never bothered with Christmas trimmings, and he left the cards in a bowl on the sideboard.

The contrast made him feel odd, though he couldn’t put his finger on why.

A few minutes later, Ellie came in wearing faded jeans and a thin sweater. Santa’s Chief Elf definitely had curves, he thought.

She put the plate of gingerbread on the coffee table. “Help yourself,” she said.

Funny how he suddenly felt nervous.

At least eating gingerbread meant that he wouldn’t have to talk. “Thanks,” he said, and took one. It was still warm from the oven, and as he took a bite he discovered that he hadn’t eaten anything this good in a long while.

“These are seriously good,” he said, taking a second.

“Thanks. So did you enjoy the party in the end?” she asked.

No. It had brought some uncomfortable truths home. Not that he wanted to tell her that. “It brings home how lucky we are.”

“But you didn’t enjoy being Santa.”

She obviously wasn’t fooled. “No. But I agreed to do it and I wasn’t going to let C.J. down.”

“Is he your friend as well as your boss?”

He didn’t really have friends. Acquaintances, yes, but he didn’t let people get that close to him. “I guess,” he said, as neutrally as he could.

She went over to the window and looked outside. “The snow’s slowing.”

He joined her. True, the blizzard appeared to be on its way out—but in the few minutes since they’d left his car, the snow was much deeper. And, more to the point, there was no sign of a snowplow having passed.

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