Page 95 of Never Sleigh Never
When I slam the truck to a stop near Santa’s Workshop and jump out, Sloane rounds the corner. She freezes. “I thought Santa drove a sleigh, not an F-250.”
I glance over my shoulder at my truck. “Times have changed. Where’s Brie?”
“Probably hyperventilating into a paper bag.” Her eyes sweep over me. “What’s with the suit?”
“I’m Santa. The hat and beard don’t give it away?”
She snorts. “Oh, I got that. I meant—what are you doing here dressed as Santa?”
“I heard Brie needs one.”
She lets out a laugh so loud a passing elf startles. “She’s going to lose her mind when she finds out it’s you.”
“About that. Do me a favor? Don’t tell her. Not yet, anyway.”
Her grin turns sly. “Okay. But I’m going to tell her she doesn’t need to look for a new job yet.”
“Deal. Do you know where I can finish getting ready?”
“Follow me.”
Sloane leads us to another building adjacent to Santa’s Workshop. After I wriggle into the rest of the suit, and adjust the beard, I’m ready to be the best damn Santa this festival has ever seen. As we stroll into Santa’s Workshop, Josie is skipping alongside me, handing out candy canes like she’s running for mayor. I ho ho ho at the kids, trying not to think about how just last week Brie was spread out on a table beneath me, my face between her legs while she moaned my name. Not exactly Santa-appropriate. Focus. I need to channel my inner Santa. In the far corner, I plant myself in the big red chair. Josie leaves to venture around the festival with her friends, plus her being here would give away the surprise. A few seconds later, Brie bursts in. My heart pounds wildly in my chest. I divert my gaze and focus on the wrapped presents scattered around the room. Luckily, she mistakes me for a guy named Scott and is too distracted by the line of eager kids to notice who’s really in the chair.
All afternoon, kids sit on my lap, get their picture taken, and tell me all the toys, gadgets, and electronics on their wish list. Brie hovers nearby, running the show like the pro she is. When the last kid leaves, she collapses onto the edge of the table and exhales a deep breath.
I clear my throat and deepen my voice. “It’s your turn.”
Brie spins around to see who else is here, but it’s empty. “Me?” She points to herself.
“Ho ho ho! Why don’t you tell Santa what you want for Christmas?”
She lets out a laugh, crossing her arms. “What I want and what I got are two very different things.”
“Santa didn’t ask you what you got but what you want.”
“Does Santa always refer to himself in the third person?” She lifts an eyebrow.
I nod. “Santa does.”
She shakes her head, smiling despite herself. “What do I want…” She taps her chin but stays rooted.
I pat my knee.
She freezes and glances at my leg. “Oh. I’m not sitting on your lap.”
“Your wish only comes true if you sit on Santa’s lap.”
Her expression flickers, then falters. “Doesn’t matter. My wish can’t come true anyway.”
“Why not?”
She moves across the room, fiddling with fake presents. “Because I’m falling in love with a man who still loves someone else. I shouldn’t even love him. I spent my entire life hating him. It was much easier to do that than deal with him not being in my life now. But I can’t be with someone who doesn’t see me as first place. I can’t do that to myself.” She stops on the other side of the small room. “Sorry to unload all that on you.”
My chest twists. Enough pretending. “What if he does see you as first place?” My real voice slips out.
Her head whips toward me.
The air crackles as she strides over to me. Her fingers grasp the white strands of my fake beard and yank, exposing my face.
