Page 2 of Sexted By Santa
My ex’s gifts had always been more about what he wanted than what I did—so his insensitivity shouldn’t have been a surprise. Fynn was bright, as his name suggested, but he was the kind of bright that blinded him to everyone else’s needs.
After Henry left, I eyed the dry-cleaning bag for a few more minutes before giving in with a sigh and unzipping it. Maybe the suit would be damaged, requiring we postpone the entire thing. I took it out, turning it this way and that, but for the life of me I couldn’t find a hole, burn mark, or irreparable stain.Damn.
I slipped it on, then snagged the Santa hat from the bag as well. I ignored the large, snowy beard. I had my own close-clipped beard, thank you very much. I would not put that monstrosity on my face.
My office door opened suddenly, and Barry froze halfway through the doorway, eyes wide.
“What the—Chris Kringle, you’ve been holding out on me. You reallyareSanta!”
My colleague and soon-to-be-former best friend laughed so hard he wheezed. He knew perfectly well that I did not enjoy the holiday season—or being called Chris Kringle.
“The name is Christian,” I growled. “Now shut the door before someone sees me.”
Barry glanced back over his shoulder toward the deserted hallway before closing the door. “Paranoid much?”
It was past office hours—and only a trickle of students made it down here even during busier times of day—but the building wasn’t empty.
“Paranoid just enough,” I grumbled. “I’ll never live it down if Martha sees me like this. You know she’ll tell everyone on campus.”
Barry eyed me up. “How do you know I won’t?”
“Because you want to keep your balls.”
He snorted. “Seriously, though, what’s up with the Santa outfit? You lose some kind of bet?”
“If by bet, you mean my Aunt Henry’s pleading eyes? Yeah, I was never going to win that one.”
Henry was the one person who could convince me to do anything. When I got outed as a young teen, it was a different time. My parents told me I could let them fix me, or I could leave. Even at fifteen, I’d known there was nofixingthe way I felt. I’d run to my grandmother—who also refused to help me.
Henry had been there, having tea with her mother, and she’d followed me outside and told me to come home with her. From that moment, she’d become my only family—along with the few friends I’d picked up over the years. Barry was one of them—though he was testing my patience today.
“This is all starting to make sense now.” Barry was well aware of the role Henry played in my life. “Why does she want you to dress up as Santa?”
“She’s involved in a lot of charitable foundations,” I said. “I can’t keep track of them all. But the Santa she lined up for some events is having surgery. He’ll be out of commission for weeks. So she asked me to take his place.”
Barry shook his head, chuckling a little. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
I turned, examining the back of the coat in the mirror affixed to the inside of my storage closet door before I shrugged it off. I hadn’t found any flaws with it that would stave off the inevitable. Come Saturday, I’d have to wear this coat in public. There was a fake belly I could wear beneath it, but I refused. I’d cinch the belt tight and say Santa was on a diet. Not that I minded the idea of looking bigger, but I couldn’t bring myself tofakesomething like that. If I had to play Santa, people were going to get a more authentic version.
May the Christmas spirit help us all.
“So what brought you here?” I asked, figuring Barry had a reason for visiting my office besides teasing me about the holiday.
“Oh! Uh, well…” He coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. Not a good sign.
“No,” I said.
“You don’t even know what I was about to say!”
“I can guess.”
“It’s not me,” he protested. “Teresa wanted me to ask.”
I whirled toward him, pointing a finger. “Aha! I knew it. The answer is no.”
His wife was the worst kind of matchmaker. She’d been trying to set me up off and on for the past two years. Apparently I got the first twelve months after my divorce to recover before I was fair game. I’d given in once—and experienced the worst blind date of my life with a guy who dragged me to a carnival and proceeded to ride the roller coaster five times in a row. I stood off to the side, bored, because I was too smart to get on a rickety machine destined to fall apart. When he’d finally barfed on ride number five, I’d known that true love was not in the cards.
Barry pursed his lips. “You know she means well. She hates the idea of you lonely. Her heart is in the right place.”
