Page 27 of Sexted By Santa
She looked confused. “What does that mean? Don’t you like them?”
I could hardly explain that I didn’t yet know my date. Not like she expected, anyway.
“I do like him,” I said. “But it’s just a first date. I don’t know if we’ll ever have a second date. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because sometimes, I have a date, and it doesn’t go anywhere.”
“Oh.” She looked put out. “That’s no fun. If you got a girlfriend or boyfriend, I might get more presents.”
“You greedy little monster!”
I scooped her up and tickled her ribs. “No!” she squealed and laughed. “Daddy, stop! I’m sorry! I was just kidding. I don’t need more presents.”
“No?” I asked, lowering her to the floor. “Are you sure? I’ve got a few more tickles left in me.”
“I’m sure!” she said. “I’m sure whatever I get will be fine! Plenty. Santa said I’m on the nice list.”
My gut twisted a little at that. Once again, I wished I could give her more. I teased her for being greedy and wanting more presents, but she likely received fewer things than most kids. Had she seen piles of gifts under Madison’s tree in the pictures her friend had shared with her? When she spent the night with her, she was sure to see all the things Madison had that she didn’t. I’d never been one to believe in keeping up with the Joneses—and I’d tried to instill those values in Tori—but she was just a kid, and one who’d been through the wringer.
I wanted her to have a great Christmas.
Maybe, despite my difficulty leaving Tori—soon to be even more difficult when Shirley left to visit her family for the holidays—I should look for extra work again. There wasn’t much time until Christmas, but I might be able to earn enough for an extra gift or two.
It felt as if time was running out. Both to prepare for a Christmas that Tori would remember, and to figure out what on earth I was going to do with Tori when winter break started and she was out of school for two weeks.
I shoved the worries aside, and ushered Tori to her room to get her coat. I’d come up with solutions later. Tonight was about me. Tonight, I would only think about my own Santa, one I hoped would live up to my expectations.
All he had to do was be handsome, charming, andnotChristian Kringle. Easy, right?
After Tori scurried to her room as requested, I looked down. My shirt was wrinkled.
Great.
“Ready, Daddy!” she called from the living room.
Well, there was no time to change now. I smoothed the fabric the best I could, then grabbed my leather jacket from a hook by the front door. “Let’s go.”
* * *
I entered the tapas bar where I was to meet my date after dropping Tori by Shirley’s with a promise to return in no more than two hours. My eyes strained to pick him out in the low lighting, but he’d promised he’d bring the Santa hat so I could find him.
The room was a collection of glass-topped tables and metal stools that looked more stylish than comfortable, Latin art, and wine-red tapestries. I finally spotted the hat on the edge of a table in the corner, behind a large, noisy party seated around a buffet-length table that held three nearly empty pitchers of sangria.
I waved off the hostess approaching to seat me and made my way toward the table, eager to finally learn Santa’s identity. His back was to me. He had great posture, a little rigid maybe, but there was something elegant about the way his charcoal gray suit jacket clung to his shoulders. This was a man who knew how to dress. A little formal for my usual tastes, but I liked it on him.
“I still think you should have worn the hat,” I said as I strolled up.
He looked at me. “I told you, I…”
I took in the salt-and-pepper hair and matching beard, the flare of recognition in his eyes, and smiled ruefully at my luck.
“Professor. We meet again.”
He flicked out his tongue to wet his lips, and I watched a little too closely for my comfort. Yes, the professor was handsome. Distinguished.
Stern, though. Judgmental.
Christian finally found his voice, sputtering, “Jaxson. What are—You can’t be…This isn’t poss—” He huffed. “You’re not thirty-five!”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m twenty-six.”
