All I Want For Christmas: Holiday Romance

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All I Want For Christmas: Holiday Romance Page 2

by Catelyn Meadows


  “Who said it’s just for kids?” He smirked. The bells on his hat jangled. “I won’t tell.”

  She laughed at this. “I’m glad to know you can keep secrets. But no, thanks. I’m a little old to sit on Santa’s lap.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, leaving the coupon on the table.

  The phone in her purse rang as he walked back toward the life-sized hodgepodge of snow-covered trees and the makeshift-but-charming Santa hut. Saylor hurried to answer the instant she saw who it was from.

  Parker’s face took up the screen, shadowed in the dim backseat. He was using FaceTime, his favorite way to call. Her heart squeezed at the sight of him.

  “Parker!”

  “Hi, Mommy!” Noises from the car surrounded him, and despite the shadows, she could make out the pout of his lower lip. Uh oh. He was upset already? Granted, it was a fairly long drive to Orofino. Maybe he was bored in the car.

  The same fears resurfaced, worries over Amanda not being patient with him, over not loving him like Saylor did. He tended to whine sometimes, especially if he was going be with a lot of people he didn’t know. David wasn’t always the most patient with him, either. Saylor wondered what had happened.

  “Hey, bud, how's your drive?”

  “We aren’t there yet,” he said, his voice breaking. “What if Santa forgets? What if he comes and I’m not there?”

  Her heart stuttered, but at least it wasn’t worse. Saylor caught sight of the elf who handed her the flier waving off the last of the stragglers waiting in line. “I’m at the mall, Parks, and guess what? Santa’s still here. He’s getting ready to go out in just a few minutes, actually. His elf just came and told me.”

  Parker’s face lit up. He gave her a goofy, gap-toothed grin. “He did? Talk to him, Mommy! Tell him where I am.”

  “What? I can’t—he’s leaving.” Saylor stared at the North Pole, mouth agape, trying to think of a solution.

  “Please?”

  She snatched the coupon, still on the storefront table she’d placed it on a moment ago. “Hang on.”

  She hurried through the crowds, accidentally knocking into a woman who bent over to pick something up. After a hasty apology, she darted to the line, but the elves were turning people away, leading Santa toward the back part of the mall’s North Pole.

  They were closing. They couldn’t be closing, not now.

  “Mommy?”

  “Hang on, bud.”

  Saylor rushed through more people, circling around to the back of the North Pole. Checking both ways—and grateful she wore leggings with her new dress—Saylor hopped the fence, landing on the faux green flooring bordered by fluffy snow.

  Several elves stared in surprise. One elf called out, “Hey!”

  Saylor ignored them and caught the phony Santa by the arm.

  Chapter Two

  This was not how Cole imagined spending Christmas Eve. Yet, here he was, seated in a velvet chair, surrounded by fake snow stapled on the side of a makeshift set of boards painted to look like a house. Not only that, but he was wearing a scratchy white beard and fur-trimmed hat to match his festive, red suit.

  Cole knew this was how his friend Jack supplemented the holiday lay-off hours. As a contractor, Cole scheduled as much business as he could manage, but things always hit a crawl whenever the snow fell, and this winter was no different. While he had enough to get by installing Christmas lights for the occasional family, or clearing people’s sidewalks of packed white snow, Cole kept many of his workers on call. That way, if jobs came up, they could still work for him through the slower months. Many of them took part time jobs to stay busy in between.

  For Cole’s neighbor, Jack, it was playing the mall Santa Claus every year. When Jack’s family had come into Twin Falls for an unexpected visit, Cole couldn’t help but step in to give his old friend a hand. Jack and his wife had welcomed Cole into their lives with open arms after his rocky divorce, and he was all too eager to return the favor when he could.

  While Jack fit the part, with his pleasantly rotund midsection, rosy cheeks, friendly manner, and white hair, it took an adequate amount of stuffing to keep the surprisingly warm red suit from drowning Cole. He couldn’t wait to get out of it, but he had to admit, he was enjoying the experience.

  The light in the children’s eyes, their eagerness as they yanked on their parents’ sleeves and pant legs, prying for their attention to ask if it was their turn yet. It brought the excitement of Christmas skyrocketing back for Cole, a feeling he hadn’t had since he was a child himself.

  To be the center of it all for these children, even for just a few hours, warmed him with satisfaction. He couldn’t help responding to their requests with a cheery laugh and encouraging words.

  This was what he’d always wanted. To sit with a child on his lap. Call him crazy, but Cole had always wanted a family of his own.

  “Don’t tell my mom this,” said the young girl on his knee, “but I really want an iPod. She says I’m too little, but she never lets me listen to the music I want.”

  Cole smiled with what he hoped was understanding at the girl’s predicament. She couldn’t be older than eight. Did he even have an opinion on music when he was eight?

  “I won’t tell her, Charley, I promise,” he whispered back to her. “But I do have a secret for you.”

  Charley’s eyes glittered. “You do?”

  Cole added a smile to the words. “Santa works pretty closely with moms and dads. Sometimes I know your mom has good reason for not wanting you to get certain things.” Her face slowly fell. Way to go, Cole, crush the girl’s hopes and dreams. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to promise her something he knew she wouldn’t get—not if her mom didn’t want her to have an iPod.

  He brushed her nose with a white-gloved finger. “But I can tell you that you’re absolutely going to love your presents this Christmas.”

  There. The spark beamed in the young girl’s brown eyes. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  She leaned in, one eyebrow raised. Strange, that someone so young could already have the sleuth look mastered. “You going to tell me what they are?”

  Cole laughed and lifted her from his lap. Clint, the elf directing traffic near the mall’s North Pole entrance, signaled Cole and pointed to his watch. They’d made it extremely clear when Cole arrived that the North Pole closed at ten sharp so they had time to get the suit rental turned back in before the shop closed and they were charged for another day. Seems like Christmas cheer only spread so far sometimes.

  Cole gave Clint a slight nod before turning his smile to the pigtailed, anxious girl awaiting an answer. He handed her a candy cane from the basket beside his seat. “It won’t be long now until you find out for yourself. Merry Christmas, Charley.”

  She beamed at him. “Merry Christmas, Santa!” With a quick hug, she skipped off to her awaiting parents.

  Cole stood as well, waving to passing shoppers. Their curious looks had been unnerving when he’d first arrived a few hours before, but he was used to them now. Of course he didn’t look the part of a normal Santa. Fortunately, children were easy to please.

  Clint closed off the low gate, rushing to tuck away the fliers he’d been distributing in the counter below the iPad they’d been using to charge customers for the pictures. The bells on his pointed shoes jingled with each of his steps.

  Cole turned toward the barn’s secret entrance, where he could change his clothes and leave the suit for the other elves to return. He was growing far too warm in the stuff between him and the suit, and he couldn’t wait to get out of it. The beard especially.

  A woman in a black and white checkered dress with yellow leggings hurdled over the fence beside him, stopping him in his tracks. She gained her bearings after such an abrupt, almost clumsy entrance, and then, without a word, she snagged him by the arm.

  “Hello,” Cole said. He was taken aback until he got a full view of the woman’s face.

  She was beautiful, with a
thin nose, pleasantly plump mouth, bright chocolate brown eyes, and hair the shade of buttercream. Her cheeks were flushed. She panted as if she’d been running. Then again, she did just leap over the fence.

  She ignored the curious glances from onlookers and met his gaze.

  Something flickered in her eyes. They analyzed every inch of him in moments, from the beard on his chin, to the puffy stuffing, to the shiny black boots complete with gold buckles. He recognized the same surprise he’d received all evening when people—parents, mostly—realized he wasn’t their typical stand-in for the jolly man in red.

  Cole was twenty-eight. He worked out regularly at a CrossFit gym, and his face was tanned even in winter from working outside.

  The woman brushed off her surprise and leaned in. Cole took in the sweet scent of berries and lime wafting from her hair.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I know this is crazy, but my son wants to talk to you. Can you just tell him you won’t forget to stop by the cabin he’s at? Santa, I mean. You. As Santa. Ahem.”

  Cole found himself watching the shape of her lips as she spoke, her wide, vulnerable eyes, and the length of her eyelashes with each blink. Not only that, but she was standing close enough to him he could sense every breath she took.

  He didn’t know many women who would leap a fence just to talk to Santa on Christmas Eve. He couldn’t help but wonder why she was here, apparently alone, and not with her son at this cabin instead.

  He forced away all the wandering, questions circling in his brain. This woman was a mother. She was married. She was off limits.

  Cole ignored Clint’s mad gestures toward the barn where he knew he needed to head to change. “You bet,” he said, adjusting his hat so the fluffy ball at the point was visible on his shoulder.

  The woman lifted her phone to display the image of a small boy with blond hair and freckles sprayed across his nose and cheeks. Cole’s smile naturally lifted, as it had done at the sight of kids all evening.

  “He’s right here,” she told the boy. Then she leaned in again, tightening Cole’s awareness of her. “His name is Parker.”

  Cole got another whiff of her berry perfume. His interest piqued, but he pushed it back down. She’s probably married, he told himself again. And you’re playing Santa Claus. Keep it together.

  She tilted toward him, holding the phone until their image popped up in the little square in the corner of the screen. Pieces of his beard tickled the woman’s cheek, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she splashed on her own smile. Something told Cole the gesture was much harder for her than it was for him.

  Parker’s face lit up. “Oh my gosh, Mom. You’re with Santa!”

  “Hey, Parker,” said the fake. He took the woman’s phone from her with a white-gloved hand. “I hear you’re heading to a cabin tonight.”

  Parker nodded enthusiastically. “In Orfinario. Are you coming?”

  Again, Cole wondered why the boy’s mother wasn’t with him. He hid his curiosity with as genuine a grin as he could manage. Not hard, considering how cute it sounded when the boy tried to pronounce Orofino. Cole had gone camping there a few times—it wasn’t a bad place for a cabin.

  “You bet I’ll be there,” he said, his voice low and welcoming. “Just make sure you go to sleep in time. I can’t come until you’re asleep.”

  “I will.”” Parker grinned from ear to ear, displaying what appeared to be a recent gap in his teeth. “And don’t forget to bring the tooth fairy. Bye, Santa!”

  The woman took her phone back, ending the call and hugging the device to her chest. Several blinks later, she glanced over.

  Cole smirked at her. A small crowd of people peered at them from outside the low, white fence blocking off the fake trees and snow. Cole watched as the reality of what she’d done hit at once.

  “Oh—”

  She straightened her skirt and raked around the confined space, a striking blush painting her cheeks.

  “Cute kid,” Cole said.

  “Thank you so much," she said, retreating, her foot smashing a pile of snow. "I think you just made his night. Not many kids get to talk to Santa on the phone.”

  “Happy to help.” Though he didn’t push the issue, the question hovered between them: Why aren’t you with him?

  “He’s with his dad for Christmas this year,” she said as if sensing the inquiry.

  “And you’re overjoyed.”

  “Bouncing off the walls.” Her voice was bone dry. “How’d you guess?”

  He gestured to the suit, which clearly drowned him. The padding puffing out his chest and stomach wasn’t going to last much longer. It was beginning to turn sideways. “I’m all knowing.”

  This won him a laugh. “Sure you are.”

  He readjusted the stuffing beneath his jacket. If the boy was with his father for Christmas, and she wasn’t there, that must mean they were divorced, like he was. He suddenly didn’t want her to leave. “Now that you have me here, are you going to tell me?”

  Her brows pinched. “Tell you what?”

  “What you want for Christmas.”

  Another laugh burst from her. “You just said you were all knowing.”

  He opened his mouth to join her banter when Clint popped his head out of the side of the small red barn behind them.

  “Cole,” the elf ordered. “Get moving.”

  Cole gestured to him before turning back to the woman. He tugged on the bottom of the red coat. “I’ve got to get out of this suit,” he said. “They need to return it before ten.”

  She took a few more retreating steps. The flush still hadn’t left her cheeks. “Right. Sure. Thanks again. You have no idea how much.”

  A hitch tacked onto her voice now. Cole’s interest in her deepened, but Clint was doing the Macarena beside the barn, and Cole sighed.

  He didn’t want another relationship, he reminded himself, not after the last one he dodged out of. This was a chance encounter, nothing more. She was just a nice woman doing something for her son, though he had to say, if he bumped into her again he wouldn’t ignore her. His interest hadn’t been kindled in a woman the way it had with her in a long time, and he found he was eager to see where it might lead.

  “Merry Christmas,” he told her, before going in to change.

  Chapter Three

  Relief spilled through Saylor, lifting a weight from her chest and allowing a wish to seep through in its place. Though she didn’t answer the fake Santa’s question, she realized she already got what she wanted for Christmas. Partially, anyway.

  Parker was happy.

  Saylor smiled at the elf workers, waving at their confused glances and scurrying away as quickly as she could. She kept her hands raised so they could see she hadn’t stolen anything—though she wasn’t sure what they might think she would steal. She glanced up at the wreaths, the bright, glittering ornaments big enough to be seen across the mall, and smoothed a hand over her new dress and leggings.

  She clung to the satisfied, sparkling feeling inside of her, trying to keep it for as long as she could. Someday, she would snap out of this. Someday, she would be content just because.

  "This calls for some chocolate," she said under her breath, still smiling. "Something warm, and something chocolate."

  Her feet guided her to The Cocoa Bean, the adjoining coffee shop at the end of the food court, which stayed open later than the rest of the mall, it turned out. She waited in line, drinking in new smells, cozy smells, of cocoa and coffee. She was never one to drink a lot of coffee. Steamers, on the other hand, were different. She could get any flavor she wanted in steamed milk.

  Saylor placed her order, and it was only minutes before the barista called her name. She took the warm mug, her cold hand instantly feeling soothed and matching the rest of her. When she turned, she nearly collided with a man in a gray sweater, jeans, and a blue ski jacket.

  His lips quirked upward.

  “Excuse me,” she said, cursing herself for being so klutzy tonight. She
ducked her head and hurried past him.

  “How’s Parker?”

  Saylor stopped.

  Her mind ticked through the encounters she’d had this evening. Families shopping, the elf man beckoning her to visit Santa, Santa himself. No handsome men with dark hair, blue eyes as vibrant as sea glass, chiseled chin, or great teeth.

  A dormant part of her heart began pumping faster. “What? How did you—?”

  He bunched his lips and toyed with the zipper of his jacket. “I know. I’m not such a chick magnet without the red coat and beard.”

  Young, hot, and thin—not the usual traits attributed to the jolly man in red. Saylor chuckled as reality hit, and she forced herself to keep from raking him over again.

  Who was she kidding? She totally raked him over again. Gorgeous, from head to toe.

  “That was you?”

  “It’s a good thing kids don’t look too closely. The hat, beard, and pillow in the chest are enough to fool them.”

  A smoking hot Santa Claus. Suddenly, her cheeks were as warm as the cup in her hand.

  “I’m Cole, by the way.”

  “Yeah, I heard your elf,” she managed, still stunned.

  “And you are?”

  She pointed with a thumb to her name hastily scribbled on her steamer. “That’s me.”

  He took a sip from his cup. “What are you drinking tonight, Saylor?”

  The name, her name, spoken by someone who wasn’t a coworker, someone who wasn’t her mother or her ex. She couldn’t believe the effect it had on her. She took a shuddering breath.

  “White chocolate peppermint steamer,” she finally stammered out.

  Saylor waited for a minute, expecting him to leave. To walk out or meet whoever he was here with. When he didn’t, she took a seat at the nearest table.

  “Sounds delicious. Mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all.” Her voice broke. She worked to clear it.

  With a smirk, he slid in across from her. Her mouth parted. This was really happening. He was really sitting with her. She smacked sense into her brain. “And you?”

 

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