Page 36 of Santa's Wish
"Until you finish your report, I'll be waiting for you outside your office every night," he said. "I'll ask Colette to adjust your work hours if you must."
"Adjust my work hours?"
"It won't always be dark at five," he said. "I don't trust your safety with anyone but Colette, or theempress herself. Don't let your coworkers take you home."
"I work with mostly shifters," I reminded him.
"They should be safe, but a shifter's speed is no match for a vampire's cunning. I don't want you to get hurt." He didn't say it, but the word hung heavy in the air between us.Again.
Santa blamed himself for my broken leg and my new craving for vampire blood. His blood. Despite his fear, I didn't associate my desire with the taste of his blood alone. I wanted all of him, any way he wanted to give it to me.
After all my promises, I was already falling for him. I never imagined I would fall in love with a sex worker. That was Santa's job description, but that wasn't who he was. He was so much more. I'd barely scratched the surface of his brilliant facade, and I wanted to know everything about him, even the scary parts, such as why he was so worried about giving me his blood.
Cleaningup before the witch arrived must have involved the giant garage across the parking lot. Santa knocked on my door an hour later with box after box of Christmas decorations.
"Everything we're not using for Fanglory this year," he said. "If you can't find a use for it, leave it in theboxes. I'll take them to the thrift store tomorrow before work."
I thanked him for his generosity. He replied with another kiss that left me breathless and aching. I'd never had a boyfriend, but I understood the appeal. Whenever we parted, Santa kissed me like he couldn't wait to see me again. It felt fucking amazing.
He left me alone with a living room full of boxes. My plan to veg out in front of the television could wait until later. For one, I couldn't see it over the six-foot by three-foot box on top of my coffee table. I found an artificial Christmas tree inside with green branches and built-in white lights. At first glance, it looked like a bunch of pipe cleaners held together with wire, but the more I adjusted the branches to fill the gaps, the more tree-like it looked.
Some of the other boxes held two-foot statues of garden gnomes painted or dressed as Santa's elves. I'd seen a few others in the VIP lounge at Fanglory, but these were older and more grotesque.
Another box contained gargoyle statues wearing pointy elf hats made of stone. I left them in the boxes. I loved Halloween, but the time for gargoyles was almost two months ago. Still, I could imagine Santa using the gargoyles in place of the creepy-looking gnomes to stand in as his elves. I bet his Halloween shows at Fanglory were magnificent.
My throat hurt when I swallowed, almost like I waschoking on glass. I'd set myself up for heartache with Santa. As much as I'd tried to avoid having feelings for him, I was already too far gone. I liked him. A lot. I hadn't known him a month yet, and already I looked forward to next year. Would we even be lovers by then, or reduced to acquaintances who lived in the same apartment building?
I'd heard him talking to his other renters in the hallway. I wondered if they had a gathering place around here, somewhere we could all grab coffee and share our sad stories about how we met Santa, and he brought us home like strays.
Nonetheless, I appreciated his help. He'd rented me a great apartment close to work. He'd shown me the confidence I needed to attract hookups in the city. He'd done exactly what he'd promised, and I should have been grateful. Instead, I was angry, with myself and with him.
I hated to spend the holidays angry, though. I'd done that often enough when I couldn't find a suitable hookup around my parents' place during the winter break. Now, I was in a much better location. I didn't have to worry about everyone in a five-mile radius knowing the color of my underwear the day I split my pants in gym class in fifth grade.
Christmas was supposed to be a joyous time of year. I needed an attitude adjustment, without the alcohol this time. With my music app, I downloaded aChristmas playlist and started listening. I teared up at the first few traditional songs, but then I landed on a comedy Christmas loop.
Searching through the boxes went much faster after that. I found the tree ornaments and a box of miscellaneous decor. Strings of lights twisted with garland went across the top of the television and beneath the kitchen island. I left the tree for later.
Hungry, I made myself a peanut butter sandwich for dinner and fell asleep on the couch listening to Christmas tunes. When I came to, my apartment still looked like a disaster zone. I'd stacked the broken-down boxes neatly in the corner, but the boxes of rejects were strewn about the floor with their flaps partially open so I could remember why I'd rejected them, exactly.
I heard the lock turn, and then Santa entered my apartment. "You should go to bed," he said.
"I was on my way until I heard your key in the door. Do you always make unannounced house calls?"
"I told you I'd be back for the decorations you don't want."
"I thought you meant tomorrow."
"It is tomorrow." He laughed. "For you, anyway."
He rushed me, kissing me again and making me forget how angry I was. Yes, Santa put on a good show at Fanglory, but what was the point of continuing the act here, where no one could see it? Hekissed me on the mouth, something he didn't do with clients.
"Admit it," I whispered in his ear. "You like me a little."
"I like you a lot," he said. "Too much."
My spine tingled when he kissed down the side of my neck and licked along the throbbing vein in my throat.
"I drove the van home from Fanglory. I need to pack this stuff up." He motioned toward the tree. "Were you planning on decorating that?"
