Page 44 of Holly Ever After

“Alright, but only if we can avoid the Santa shots. I heard they're made with peppermint schnapps and regret.”

She guffaws, clutching her gumdrop-buttoned belly. “Peppermint schnapps and regret are my middle names, darling.”

We push our way through the sea of ridiculous outfits, toward the bar, feeling both utterly absurd and perfectly at home.

Standing at the bar, Jackie and I are approached by a couple of guys wearing what can only be described as haphazardly-assembled elf costumes. Both are attractive, but in that vanilla way—great for a Christmas party hookup but not necessarily life-changing.

“Hey, Mrs. Claus, can we be your elves for the night?” One of them winks, oozing confidence.

Before I can even muster a polite rejection, a deep voice cuts through the din of the crowded bar. “Hands off my wife. That’s my Mrs. Claus.”

I turn around and lock eyes with—Santa? No, wait, it's Sean. I'd recognize those piercing eyes anywhere. He's in a full Santa outfit, complete with the bushy white beard hanging around his neck, looking both ridiculous and strangely sexy at the same time.

Mark then appears next to him, wearing what appears to be a Christmas tree costume? He's got tinsel wrapped around his torso and an actual star headband. I can't decide if it's stupid or endearing, so I settle for stupidly endearing.

“Hey,” Mark says to the would-be elf suitors, “how about you find another sleigh to hitch to, eh? This one's family-only.”

The two guys size up Mark and Sean for a moment before nodding and slipping away into the crowd, looking deflated.

I roll my eyes so hard they nearly get stuck. “Really? What are you guys, my Christmas chaperones? I'm not sixteen.”

Jackie, never one to miss an entrance, just grins at them. “Hey, boys.”

I shoot my brother a quizzical look. “What are you even doing here? Don't you have a pregnant wife at home?”

“She kicked me out. Said she wanted a night off from my overbearing holiday cheer. Can you believe that?”

Overbearing is an understatement when it comes to my brother during Christmas, so yes, I can absolutely believe it.

Even in this crowd, I can't shake the sensation of Sean's eyes on me. Burning into me, more like. I risk a sideways glance and find him grinding his jaw so tightly I'm surprised it doesn't snap.

I glare at him as if to say,What's your problem?

The laser-focused sweep he gives me, from my red boots to my fur-trimmed hat, answers the question without a single word. It's the outfit.

Frustrated, I extend my middle finger discreetly toward him—just enough to let him know what I think of his silent criticism. “Mark doesn't seem to have a problem with my outfit, and last time I checked, I'm twenty-seven, not seventeen. So, you can stuff your judgment in a stocking.”

Sean's eyes glint mischievously at the challenge, and there's a moment of electric tension that even Mark picks up on.

“Whoa, I'm not sure if I should leave you two alone or make sure you don't kill each other,” Mark says, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Sean takes a step closer to me. “No chance of the former happening, and as for the latter... well, 'tis the season for giving, not murdering, right?”

I seize the opportunity and grab at the fake white beard dangling around his neck. “Alright, if you're going to play Santa, then act like it. Why don't you be a good Santa and get these girls some drinks?”

The grin that creeps onto his lips is part devilish, part delighted. “Yes, Ma'am.” He winks, pulling the beard back into place and heading toward the bar, giving me a lingering look that promises this battle of wills is far from over.

As Sean saunters off, the red velvet of his Santa suit clinging to him in all the right places, Jackie nudges me. “You're drooling, girl. That's my job.”

“I'm not drooling, I'm evaluating,” I retort, pulling my gaze away from Sean's retreating form.

“Evaluating what exactly? How well that Santa suit would look on your bedroom floor?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of how ridiculous we all look. It's like Christmas threw up in here.”

“Speak for yourself. I look fabulous.” She twirls, showing off her outfit.

“Only you could make green and red sequins work.”

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