Page 74 of Sexted By Santa
Jaxson nudged me with his shoulder as we began walking again. “I’ll warm you up later.”
My core temperature rose a little at the thought of intimacy with Jaxson, even as I wondered how he could make good on that statement. But even if he only meant cuddling on the couch, I’d gladly take it.
Tori skipped ahead to peek into shop windows and admire the Christmas trees positioned in front of several businesses, decorated in a theme that matched the shop. A tree made entirely of books stood before the bookstore, while another hung with multi-colored lollipops marked the candy shop entrance.
We moved from block to block, each with its own theme, on our way to the Christmas sleigh pickup zone and North Pole Village, where the activities of the day were staged.
Candy Cane Lane featured an installment of six-foot tall candy cane art bearing a variety of designs, and businesses giving out free candy canes with every purchase. On Mistletoe Drive, business doors were hung with mistletoe, and there was a “kiss cam” positioned to allow for festive pictures. I hung back while Jaxson and Tori posed for photos with reindeer antlers, cheeks and noses red from the cold but eyes bright and happy.
I watched them wistfully, wishing to be a part of their happy family and reluctant to intrude. It was like standing outside the window of a restaurant, seeing the amazing meals on a table right on the other side of the glass. It was within reach, but I had to find my way inside first.
Tori was the one who waved me over. “Christian, take a photo with us!”
I hesitated, glancing at Jaxson. He grinned. “Tori wants a photo with you in the Santa hat.”
Of course.A year ago I might have refused. Hell, little more than a month ago I might have scowled and walked away. But after dressing up in full Santa costume, a hat seemed like nothing. And I wasn’t sure I had the power to say no in the face of Tori’s shining smile. She could ask me to join the dreadful carolers, and I might very well do it.
As I traded hats, I asked Jaxson, “How on earth do you ever tell her no?”
He chuckled. “Don’t tell me she has you under her spell already?”
“Thoroughly.”
We posed for a photo, then moved on to the next block, Christmas Card Avenue, where massive greeting card decorations took the place of the candy cane art.
By the time we reached the sleigh pickup zone, I was ready to sit down—even if the seating was a series of scratchy hay bales. Tori sat toward the front, Jaxson beside her, and me on the end. A rather large family squished in beside me, forcing me to glue myself to Jaxson’s side. Not much of a hardship, though his bulky coat kept me from fully enjoying the experience.
Jaxson slipped an arm around my shoulders, surprising me, but given our tight quarters, it made sense. I leaned in against him, resisting the urge to put my hand on his thigh. As far as Tori knew, we were friends, and I wouldn’t risk blowing our cover until Jaxson was ready to tell her more. I knew he was concerned about the impact our relationship might have on Tori—especially if it didn’t last.
I wanted, desperately, for him to trust in us. But I understood he’d been burned before, and I’d told him repeatedly that I had a terrible track record with men. But the more time I spent in his and Tori’s company, the more certain I was thatthisrelationship would be unlike anything that had come before.
Somethingmorethan I ever could have imagined.
Because being with Jaxson wouldn’t mean having a boyfriend again. It meant having a family.
A family who sang terribly out of tune and laughed when they stumbled over the words and looked at one another as if they were the north point on a compass that would always guide them home.
I wanted to be that home too. So when Tori turned to me, ordering me to sing along, I didn’t even flinch.
I joined in, shouting the lyrics to “Jingle Bells” with everyone else.
* * *
North Pole Village was something to see.
We climbed down from our makeshift sleigh to pass through two massive, inflatable candy canes marking the entrance to the park. Beyond, a series of white and red tents spread out, some with cute signs like “Elves’ Workshop”—where children could do arts and crafts, such as making their own ornaments or decorating a Christmas stocking—and “Mrs. Claus’s Kitchen,” which included the food vendors.
The hours slipped by as we explored the vendor booths in the “village”—browsing everything from holiday décor to informational brochures about charitable organizations—and Tori got her fill of games, crafts, and a visit with another Santa.
“That’s her third Santa this year,” Jaxson said with amusement.
“And she still believes there’s a real one?”
He snorted. “Who knows? Shewantsto believe. That’s all that matters, I guess.”
Tori appeared to be chattering up a storm as Santa nodded and smiled. His eyes glazed over a bit, but he was trying. A line began to form behind her.
“Good lord, what do you think she’s saying?” I asked after a while.
