by JoAnn Ross
He drew her into his arms. Kissed her long and deep. Then drew back. “Every time I look at you, every time I kiss you, I fall in love all over again.”
She smiled. Touched her hand to his cheek. “Then don’t stop looking,” she suggested. “Or kissing.”
“Don’t worry. I plan to keep on doing it for the next fifty years.”
“And then?”
“And then we’ll just continue kissing our way to our centennial anniversary.”
“Oh, I do like how you think,” she said on a breathless laugh.
She was about to suggest they move into his bedroom where they could move beyond the kissing part of the evening, when he drew back.
“That’s funny.”
“What?” She followed his gaze to beneath the tree.
“That box wasn’t there when I arranged all the packages before the party.”
He left the couch again and picked it up. It was wrapped in green paper with Santa’s smiling face. The same paper Rachel had wrapped Emma’s elephant in.
“The tag says ‘To Holly. From Santa,’ ” he read.
“Good try.” She smiled even as she shook her head.
“I swear.” He lifted his right hand. “I’ve never seen this box before.”
Holly didn’t believe him. But, because she loved him, she played along with the game, opening the package.
Inside, lying on a bed of red satin, was a yellowed envelope, addressed in red pencil to Santa Claus, postmarked twenty-one years earlier, from Los Angeles, California.
“It can’t be,” she said. When her fingers began trembling too much to open the envelope, she held it out to Gabe, who pulled out a folded piece of lined filler paper.
“ ‘Dear Santa.’ ” He read the all too familiar childish printing out loud. “ ‘My mama cries all the time since Daddy died. She says you can’t bring him back to life. But this year, the only thing I want is a happy family. Like I used to have. Thank you and Merry Christmas to you and Mrs. Claus and all the elves and reindeers. Especially Blitzen.’ ”
“He was always my favorite,” Holly murmured.
“Helluva coincidence,” Gabe said.
“That’s one word for it.”
Gabe continued reading. “ ‘Love, Your friend, Holly Berry.’ There’s a P.S. ‘In case you didn’t notice, being so busy with your toy factory and all, I’m living in California now.’ ”
“How on earth?” Her mind was spinning with possibilities. Dazzling, gilt-edge possibilities that were as wonderful as they were impossible.
“There’s more. I think you’d better read this for yourself.” Gabe handed her the letter.
Below the careful printing Holly remembered laboring over was a note, written in a big, bold, masculine scrawl. My Dearest Holly. Please forgive the delay in answering your letter. Some Christmas wishes just take a bit longer to fulfill. Merry Christmas back to you and, of course, your own special happy family, Gabriel and Emma. Love, Santa Claus.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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Compilation copyright © 2012 by JoAnn Ross
“Cajun Heat” copyright © 2005 by JoAnn Ross
“Love Potion #9” copyright © 2006 by JoAnn Ross
“Dear Santa” copyright © 2008 by JoAnn Ross
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-3085-0