Page 8 of Kit
“I’ve said no to that question all night long, but for you, Kit, I’ll say yes. But only if you are very gentle.”
I reached up and petted the soft white hair that rippled over the front of his suit.
“Aren’t you awful hot wearing all this, Santa?” I asked.
His head leaned forward. His breath brushed my cheek. “I’m from the north where it’s always cold. I welcome a little heat.”
His voice was beautiful, completely revving up my heart rate. It was also lovely that he stayed in character.
I glanced to my side, seeing there was no one else in line yet. That made me happy because I wanted to sit in this guy’s lap for as long as I could.
I decided to flirt. Just a little. “Santa, is there a Mr. Claus or are you single?”
His laugh rumbled up, making me a little hard. “You’re a bold little one.”
“I’m sorry, Santa. I just wondered.”
“Christmas should be full of wonder,” he said. He leaned forward again, voice almost a whisper. “For the record, there is no Mr. Claus at the moment, but please don’t tell anyone I told you. It’ll be our secret.”
“I promise. I’m good at secrets.”
“Now,” he began. “Are you going to tell me what you want for Christmas?”
“Hmm. Is it okay if I think about my answer for a minute?”
“Sure. There’s no one waiting. Take your time, sweet Kit.”
I leaned my cheek against his soft beard as I spoke. “I already have a lot of toys. And peace on Earth seems like an impossibility when we’re dealing with humans.”
Santa huffed out a low, startled laugh.
“What I really need—want—” I cleared my throat. “I just can’t seem to find the right daddy. I need guidance but I haven’t found that yet. Not rough, but not easy, either. I got into trouble because my daddy at the time left me alone. He had other partners, which I knew about, but I’m pretty little, like five at most, and I needed more attention.”
“Yes, little ones get into trouble when they’re not properly watched. But Santa knows it’s not always their fault. Santa knows baby boys need guidance. Not to cage them, but to protect them.”
“You understand, Santa. That’s what I need. But I don’t think I’ll find that in my stocking this year.”
“No?”
I bowed my head. “I just hope I don’t get coal.”
“Coal? Oh my. We cut out coal in stockings at the North Pole at the turn of the twentieth century.”
“What?” I couldn’t hold back a grin.
“And did you know that legend comes from something very different than the meaning people know today? Back in time, winters were hard. Some people didn’t have enough fuel towarm their homes, and not enough money to buy it. Coal was considered a good gift. A rich gift. Coal meant many people could have warmth in their bellies and hearts.”
“Wow. That’s a great story, Santa. I never heard that before.”
“But the elves and I don’t give out coal anymore. So don’t you worry.” He lifted his hand, which had a large gold band on the middle finger and bopped me on the nose.
My face heated. “I’m glad. I was worried.”
Who was this guy behind the beard? I needed to know. I also realized it would be rude to keep asking. Santa was everything I’d dreamed of. I would have loved to have met him outside of his job.
“And now, unfortunately, our time is up.”
I looked over my shoulder and saw a couple of guys standing in line.
