Gabe looked over her shoulder. “I amaze myself at times. Look around you. The kids asked for it, and I delivered.”
Katherine pursed her lips skeptically. “You delivered, huh? Well, why don’t you explain to me just exactly what you delivered.”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Housley.” He held up the picture and pointed first to the drawing and then to each counterpart in turn. “Well, they wanted a house,” he began. “And here’s the house.”
“It isn’t in the forest,” she observed reasonably.
“No, but we do have a real Christmas tree, which we decorated ourselves.”
“And it does have real presents under it.”
“Yes, and there are some for you.”
“Really? Can I open them?”
“Later. Now, pay attention, this is important. There’s going to be a test.”
“Mmmm.” Clasping her hands behind her, she regarded the picture again with a tilt of her head. “What’s that?”
“I’ll give you a hint. It isn’t spaghetti.”
She inhaled deeply. “Smells like turkey.”
“That’s because it is.”
“And what’s this?”
He looked at the blue stick figure. “That’s me. The resemblance is quite extraordinary, you know.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Katherine frowned at the picture. “Oh, wait, I was looking at the turkey.”
He took the picture away from her. “That does it. No presents for you...until you’ve kissed me.”
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Okay, bring on those presents. You know, I can’t remember the last time I opened a present without knowing in advance what was inside. I may get to like this.”
“You’d better, because I intend to shower you with surprises.”
The twins shrieked as they discovered two five-dollar bills wrapped in clear plastic and labeled with their names. “Money!” Abby waved the gift through the air. “Mom, we got money.”
“Wonderful.” Katherine picked up the package Gabe had placed in her lap and turned it over in her hands.
“This is not your main present,” he said a little self-consciously. “In fact, it’s just something that reminded me of you.”
She leaned forward to kiss him, her mood turning wistful and reflective. “You asked me once what I had against Santa and I told you some nonsensical thing about a pony.”
“I remember,” he said, taking her hand.
“Well, now I want to tell you the truth. A long time ago, when I believed in Santa Claus, I asked him for a present, and when I didn’t get it that Christmas, I told myself I hadn’t really wanted it anyway and I said I didn’t believe anymore. I said I knew because of the gift I didn’t receive that he didn’t, couldn’t exist. How could he deny something so small to a child who’d just lost her father? But he did and I knew he wasn’t real.”
He comforted her with the soft caress of his hand at her temple. “What did you ask Santa to bring you?” he asked.
“It was nothing, really. Just something my dad said he would get for me and never did, something he said reminded him of me. So I asked Santa to get it for me. It was just a little ceramic angel with blond hair and a basket full of stars. But he said the thing about her that reminded him of me was that she was stretching out her hand, reaching for just one more star.”
Gabe swallowed hard, knowing that somewhere out there, Santa Claus really was watching. “I think it’s time you opened your presents, Kate.”
“Now?”
“Now.” He bent his head and kissed her tenderly, with all the passion of a kiss under the mistletoe and all the promise of a lifetime of Christmases to come.
* * * * *
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin ebook. Connect with us for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Subscribe to our newsletter: Harlequin.com/newsletters
Visit Harlequin.com
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
ISBN: 9781460300084
Copyright © 2012 by Karen Whittenburg Crane
Originally published as THE SANTA SUIT
Copyright © 1997 by Karen Whittenburg Crane
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Christmas Wishlist Page 20