Page 2 of Shy Santa

The girl was tiny compared to him. Her ponytail was all poofy and huge, but she looked so fragile. My heart ached to rush over and hug her, too.

“So… Are you going to Sadie’s bachelorette party next week?” Maya asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Nope.” I wouldn’t go if someone paid me a million dollars and promised a lifetime publishing contract that guaranteed me an eternity on the New York Times bestsellers lists.

“Come on, it’s supposed to be great. Everyone will get smashed and they’re hiring strippers.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

My eyes rolled so hard I think I pulled a muscle. “Strippers? Yeah, not gonna happen.”

“Terry was four years ago. And she’s not even marrying the damn douche.” Maya complained. We had this same argument many times since the news broke about Terry and Sadie were sleeping together—it wasn’t just a onetime ‘oops, my bad’. “You can’t hold a grudge forever.”

“Wanna bet? I don’t care if she dumped his ass two years ago after he cheated on her, too. It’s the principle of the thing. Friends don’t sleep with friends’ boyfriends.” I slapped the Formica table. “She broke the sister code.”

“And got hers in the end, and a kid ta boot.” Maya crossed her arms over her flat chest. The one thing mother nature decided was good to do, not give her huge knockers. If she had those, men wouldn’t give a lick what she said or did.

“Look, go if you want but I. Am. Not. Going.” I poked her arm to punctuate my point.

Maya held up her hands. “Got it. You aren’t going. Even if I begged and offered to be the DD for the next year every time we go out, you would not be interested.”

“Even if you promised me that man over there would come over here, sweep me off my feet and give me a HEA and a million orgasms.” A girl could dream right, and if we played this game, I’d go for broke.

“Well, that is oddly specific.” Maya smiled, her eyes going wide.

“It’s been a long time. Give me a break.” I admitted, rolling my eyes again, knowing I wouldn’t win with her.

“Maybe that lumbersnack of a man will help you out.” She eyed said man before flagging Aunt Shirley over to the table.

CHAPTER2

Bear

It was weird sitting here again. Gran and I came to the diner every other week for Hope Burgers. Those burgers are still the best I've ever had.

“Do you like your chicken fingers?” I asked as I dug into my burger.Mmm… Perfection.

Ace shrugged her shoulders again.

We needed to find a way to talk. I didn’t mind people being quiet, preferred it, but this kid weirded me out. I never knew a girl could be so silent. And polite. Not that I knew a thing about kids, but I remembered all the girls were chatter boxes growing up. Even the women I served with liked to talk.

One thing I remembered about Ace’s mom, she knew how to be still. Probably why we lasted the year we were together. We might have made a go of it if she hadn’t been transferred to another base on the West Coast.

“Ace, come on, I’m trying here. Give me something.” I placed my burger in the red basket it came in.

Ace focused on picking at the chicken in front of her. “They’re fine.” She finally mumbled, shrinking in on herself.

Maybe once we’re settled into the house and she was back in school, things would get better.

“I think you’ll like Gran’s house. A rental company’s taken care of it for the last decade. Renting it out and stuff. Lucky for us, they were between tenants so we could get right in.” I tried a new tactic when she didn’t look up. “There’s a great tree in the backyard we can build a tree house in.” I always wanted one as a kid.

“Okay.” She still wouldn’t look at me.

The social worker said to give her time to settle in, but we’d been living together for over a month now. Ace still wouldn’t talk to me like a normal kid and only wanted to read or color. Didn’t children want to run around and play outside anymore? I knew kids loved their electronics—enough of the guys I served with bitched about the amount of screen time their kids had—but the social worker said Dianna didn’t allow Ace on them. At this point, I would buy her whatever game system, tablet, or phone she wanted to get her out of the head space she was in.

“Are you looking forward to starting school? The social worker said you were in second grade and a gifted program.” I rambled on, shoving a fry into my mouth. “Tomorrow we can tour the elementary school and get you signed up. I have the records from your old school, so it should be easy, right?”

Not for the first time, it crossed my mind that maybe this was a big mistake. How was I supposed to raise a kid? I might be good at keeping men alive in the field, but there were rules and protocols and basically a manual we followed. Kids never came with a manual.

I should know; I asked the social worker for one after I took responsibility for Ace. She laughed in my face when she realized I wasn’t joking.

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