by Dawn Temple
Careful not to upset her fancy hairdo, Shayna slipped into her new red dress. The back zipper gave her a bit of trouble, but once she’d conquered that, she had to admit the costume fit like a dream. Mrs. Hollister, her old home ec teacher, would be proud.
If only they’d learned to make shoes in school. Then perhaps she’d have been able to come up with an alternative to the white, knee-high disco boots Ms. Noel had been sporting for the past four decades.
Cautiously, she approached the mirror in the corner. The woman standing there took Shayna’s breath away. Between the tousled hairdo and the snug red dress, she actually looked…sexy. In a “Secret Nightlife of Small Town Librarians” kind of way.
The new costume flattered her hourglass figure without making her look like a harlot, and the faux fur that outlined the scooped neck, cuffs and A-line skirt gave the garment a sophisticated yet playful look.
She still thought the boots were ridiculous but paired with the new dress, they actually looked okay. Sexy even. She’d feared they would make her look even shorter, but somehow, the opposite was true.
In the corner, the phone rang, and a niggle of déjà vu raised goose pimples on her arms. She breathed a sigh to see the caller ID showed city hall.
“Hey, Shayna. It’s Martha. I just wanted to let you know the bridge is clear. You should be good to go.”
She checked the clock. As long as nothing else unexpected popped up, she should make it on time. “Thanks, Martha.”
“No problem. Break a leg tonight.”
“Way things are going today, I’m afraid I might.” Laughing, she hung up and started to gather her things.
Grabbing the bag with her change of clothes, she hotfooted it out the door. As she drove toward the bridge, she was shocked to discover Kyle’s car had already been towed away. Boy, he sure didn’t waste any time.
Shiner’s Gulch bridge still had a few lingering patches of ice clinging to its edges, but she made it across without incident. Just as she pulled into the KC Hall parking lot—thirty minutes ahead of schedule, thank you very much—her cell phone rang. The number was local but not one she recognized.
She cleared her throat and forced a smile into her voice before answering. “Hello?”
“Shayna, thank God. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning.” The frantic voice belonged to Joe Kincaid, whose father had volunteered to play Santa this year.
“Is something wrong with Elmer’s costume?” Goodness, after the disaster with her costume, she should have thought to double-check his.
“No, the costume’s fine, but—” Joe paused, a tense breath vibrating across the phone line “—Dad’s in the hospital.”
“Oh, God, Joe. What happened?” She listened as Joe recounted the story of his elderly father slipping on a patch of ice this morning while picking up the paper.
“The good news is nothing’s broken, but his back is out. Doc’s ordered him to bed.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not unless you have a cure for orneriness.”
“‘Fraid not.” She snickered softly, glad to know Joe’s sense of humor remained intact. “Guess I’m going to need a new Santa, huh?”
“Yep. I’d volunteer, but—”
“Nonsense,” she interrupted. “You take care of your dad. I’ll find someone else to pose for pictures with the kids.”
“I think you’re getting the easier end of that bargain.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
After finding out Joe had already dropped the Santa costume at the KC hall, Shayna reminded him to call if he needed anything and hung up.
Poor Elmer, she thought, glancing at the car’s clock. Poor me. How in the world am I going to find a replacement volunteer at the last minute?
Her first thought was Danny, who was always ready to help out, but he was six-six. The red wool pants wouldn’t cover a man that tall. Fortunately, the jacket was designed for a “jolly” tummy, so almost any upper body would work.
She considered asking Travis, but he was in charge of the carnival, and that was too important of a job to hand off to a last-minute replacement.
Mentally scrolling through the men in town, Shayna could think of only three other men who’d fit the suit and would possibly be willing and able to help out at the last minute. As she dug through her center console, looking for a list of committee members and their phone numbers, she saw the duplicate set of documents Kyle had left her.
Kyle. He’d certainly fit the suit, assuming there was enough padding in the state of Tennessee to turn his hard, flat stomach into a “bowl full of jelly.” But would he be willing? More importantly, could she bring herself to ask him, considering everything between them?
There had to be someone else who could fill Santa’s boots. And she would find him. The photo booth was one of the festival’s biggest moneymakers.
She headed inside and began her search. A few minutes later, she’d exhausted her short list of right-sized men.
“Darn, darn, darn.” She buried her face in her hands. Time to either call the pageant director and let her know there’d be no Santa this year or somehow convince Kyle Anderson to do her a major favor.
Reminding herself it was all for the kids, Shayna snatched up the Santa wig and suit and raced back out to her car. So far, the only bright spot was knowing exactly where to find Kyle. The Sheltering Arms was only three blocks over. So finding her man wouldn’t be the big struggle tonight. Convincing him to don a padded belly, a fake beard and an itchy wool costume was the true challenge.
Was it too early for a Christmas miracle?
Kyle stared at the familiar-looking stranger staring back at him in the mirror. The guy had his face, his build, but the wardrobe was a shocker. At least his new clothes fit. And he had to admit, in comparison to the baggy coveralls he’d worn at Shayna’s home, the stiff jeans and soft flannel shirt didn’t look half-bad.
Laughter drifted up from downstairs where his fellow boarders were enjoying an early supper so they could make it to the Junior Miss Noel Pageant on time. Kyle had declined supper, but he certainly intended to make the pageant.
Shayna might be able to ban him from her home, but she couldn’t keep him from attending public events. No matter how badly he’d screwed things up with her, he still had a job to do, and with Walker threatening to intervene, Kyle couldn’t afford to waste a second.
After slipping his cell phone and wallet into his pocket, Kyle strode to the door. When he opened it, Shayna stood in the dimly lit hallway, her hand raised to knock.
His heart nearly stopped. He couldn’t drag air in or out, couldn’t speak, hell, couldn’t even think. He’d never seen anything so alluring in all his life.
She looked like the cover model for Playboy’s December edition. Wild brown curls cascaded around a flushed face. Kewpie doll lips formed a perfect O. Amber eyes widened with surprise.
The bundle of red material she’d been sewing now covered her body, coating her lush curves like a coat of paint. White fur brushed against her breasts and thighs. Go-go boots sheathed her legs. Kyle had a momentary flash of those boots wrapped around his waist.
All his vital organs flared to life.
“Wow! You look amazing.” He felt, and sounded, like a gawky, horny teenager.
“Tonight’s my big debut.” Her lips curled slightly, but with the tension in her voice, he wouldn’t exactly call it a friendly expression.
“So I’ve heard.” Once he felt sure his tongue could handle compound sentences, he spoke into the awkward silence filling the hall. “I’m surprised to see you here after the way you marched me down that mountain yesterday.”
“Yeah, well, you may have caught a lucky break. Mind if I come in for a minute?”
Kyle would take all the luck he could get dealing with this woman. He stepped aside. “Sure.”
She didn’t even bother to survey her surroundings. “I need a favor.”
“A favo
r? From me? Considering how mad you were yesterday, you must be desperate to ask me for anything.” Desperate was good. It gave him the edge.
“You’re right. And in this case, you are the last possible candidate I can think of. Trust me, if there were anyone else, I wouldn’t be here.”
Damn. That stung. “I believe it. So what do you need? A kidney? My heart?”
“No, just your body.”
Anytime, any place, he thought, but out loud, he simply said, “Count me in.”
“Great.” She pulled her hand from behind her back. A large pile of red wool and white fuzz dangled from her fingers. “Hurry and change. We need to be at the KC hall in twenty-one minutes.”
She waved the red outfit at him. The white fuzz was a fake beard, and the pointy red hat was unmistakable.
“You want me to dress up as Santa Claus?”
“Yep.”
“What happened to the last guy?”
“He slipped on the ice and threw out his back. Please, Kyle. I’m desperate.”
“Hold on a sec. It’s bad enough I was thinking about going out dressed like Joe Country, but this is ludicrous.”
“Don’t make me beg. I’m in a tight spot. If I don’t get a replacement Santa in the next—” she consulted the bedside clock “—nineteen minutes, the festival will lose tons of revenue and the kids will be horribly disappointed.”
“How does Santa bring in revenue?”
“Every year, the festival has a photo booth where parents make a donation in exchange for having their kids’ pictures taken with Santa. They use their own cameras, and most parents send the pictures out as Christmas cards.”
It was a great concept. Families got affordable snapshots, and the community raised money and fostered the Christmas spirit.
“This is important, Kyle,” she insisted. “The money goes to buy Christmas presents for our local foster kids, and no one else can do it at the last minute like this.”
“What about your buddy Danny?”
“He doesn’t fit the costume. Plus, his youngest daughter is competing in the pageant. He needs to be backstage with Tina.” She didn’t fidget and her eyes remained steady on his, but he couldn’t help noticing the slight tremor in her fingers. “Please. I really need your help.”
She sucked her lower lip between her teeth, and he realized she expected him to say no. Lord knew, any rational man would, but the weird thing was, he didn’t want to be just another person who’d disappointed her. How she’d managed to work her way around his normal boundaries he didn’t know, and honestly, at the moment, he didn’t care. Right now, tonight, helping her, finding a way to put the smile back on her face became his number one priority.
“Okay. I’ll do it.” He took the costume from her limp fingers. Actually, after the stress of the past couple of days, playing Santa sounded like a blast. Growing up in and out of foster care himself, he’d developed a natural ease with kids, but lately, he’d been so focused on his career, it had been years since he’d been around anyone under the age of eighteen.
“You will?” The stunned look on her face was priceless. “Really? Just like that? No strings attached?” Obviously, she’d expected him to make her really beg, or worse yet, take advantage of the situation. And honestly, either scenario would have been a better career move, but at the moment, advancing his career took a backseat to raising money for needy kids—and making Shayna happy.
“Sure. Like you said, it’s important.” Since his room didn’t have a bathroom, he tossed the costume on the bed and started unbuttoning his shirt. “Are you going to stay and help me dress, or would you like to wait in the hall?”
The bemused look on her face was the sweetest victory Kyle could remember winning. “Hall,” she mumbled as she backpedaled for the door. “Oh.” She stuck her head back in, her gaze sliding over his exposed chest before quickly becoming fascinated with the room’s rose-patterned rug. “I left the stuffing at the hall. And Kyle—” her eyes meet his, her smile turned to full blast “—thanks.”
Since the clock was ticking, he changed quickly. The suit hung even looser than the coveralls, but this time, the poor fit didn’t bother him in the least. Honestly, this Santa thing actually sounded like fun, and after missing his shift at the soup kitchen Thursday, he felt overdue for a bit of giving back.
Best of all, playing Santa meant Shayna would owe him one, and after the way he’d botched things Thursday night, he needed every advantage he could get.
Several hours later, Shayna finally allowed herself to relax. So far, Kyle seemed to be pulling it off. Amazing.
Getting him to play Santa had taken a lot less arm twisting than Shayna had expected. She’d hoped, deep in the far corner of her heart, that he would step up and help out because it was the decent thing to do. When he did, she’d been unprepared for the joy that tingled through her.
And once he’d agreed, he’d done everything asked of him and done it enthusiastically.
While Kyle was excelling as Santa, Shayna was doing a bang-up job as Ms. Noel. Hostessing the pageant hadn’t been nearly as scary as she’d feared. All the girls—and their parents—had behaved themselves. No major meltdowns, no catfights or upset tummies.
Danny’s daughter Tina followed in her big sister’s footsteps and won this year’s Junior Miss Noel title. Of course, everyone received a trophy and a ribbon. All in all, it was a very successful start to the festival.
Now, with her hostess duties complete, Shayna stood backstage and watched the activity still buzzing around the hall. Several elves, aka the county foster kids, raced through the crowd, expertly avoiding the caseworkers trying to round them up. The Women’s Auxiliary League’s hot chocolate stand was doing a booming business, as was the Girl Scouts’ bake sale.
Someone nudged Shayna’s elbow. Startled, she turned to see Lindy’s grinning face. “We need to talk.” Her friend nodded toward the costumed Kyle.
“I know, but now’s not the time or the place.”
“You’re coming over for brunch tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question or an invitation. It was a command.
“Yes, ma’am. How are Travis and the carnival doing?”
“I don’t know. I was so anxious to talk to you that I haven’t even been out there yet.”
She bumped her hip against Lindy’s. “Go support your husband. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As Lindy wandered off, Shayna returned to watching the action. This year’s most popular attraction by far was the Santa photo booth. Even though it was after eight, dozens of kids still waited to share their holiday wishes.
All evening, Kyle had sat in the oversized chair, patiently listening to the children’s wishes while frazzled parents called out, “Say cheese!” For the ones who needed extra coaxing, he talked and chatted until they relaxed and began enjoying themselves. After each picture, he’d send the kids off with a candy cane and a jolly “Merry Christmas.”
Seeing Kyle relate so well to the children had been another of the night’s many shocks. She couldn’t help but wonder what piece of his puzzle provided that ease.
Shayna acknowledged the stab of jealousy she felt watching a recently divorced mother of two rub her cheek against Kyle’s, insisting they pose for a second picture, just to be safe. Not that she had any right—or reason—to be jealous. If one of those women wanted an unethical lawyer who would sleep with a gal for the sake of his career, then they were welcome to him.
Now, if she could trust the glimpses of good she’d seen in him, she might not be so quick to throw him to the hordes.
As the crowd began to thin out, Shayna checked to make sure the hair she’d meticulously arranged to look carelessly tousled was still pinned in place. She wanted to help gather together the “Fostered Elves” as they’d dubbed themselves, and make sure they all got their pictures taken with jolly young St. Nick.
She spied Tommy Hunter, looking like a truly mischievous elf, tucked behind a giant Christmas tree. Even though he was only eigh
t, Tommy was a born leader. Once he was corralled, the other kids would be much easier to round up.
Tiptoeing as quietly as she could in her clunky white boots, Shayna snuck up behind the skinny boy and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” she whispered. “I’m looking for the elf king. Do you know where he is?”
A round face poked out from between the branches. His front teeth were missing, ragged brown bangs hung over his forehead and several large freckles covered his nose. He smelled like little boy sweat and hot chocolate.
Tommy pointed toward Kyle and the dwindling line of photo-seekers. “The elf king sits over yonder, fair lady.”
She shook her head and grasped his sticky hand. “That one’s an imposter. I believe you are the real elf king, my lord.”
She tugged and Tommy came without protest. “You’ve discovered my secret, lassie.” He laughed, adopting a leprechaun brogue. “Guess you’ll be wantin’ me gold.”
What she wanted was a hug but knew it would embarrass him. “No gold, sire. ’Tis a photo I be wanting.”
Together, they took their place at the end of the line. As predicted, the other children soon stood clustered around them, curious to see what fun and excitement Tommy was stirring up.
When they finally reached the front of the line, Santa’s sparkling blue eyes hit her with a hot look she prayed the children were all too young to understand. Her nerves fired to roaring, ecstatic life.
After smoothing her damp palms over her hips, she waved Tommy toward Kyle’s lap, but the boy stepped aside and let the little girl standing behind him go ahead. As Shayna stood in the proud parents spot taking pictures of the kiddos, Tommy, the self-appointed big brother, made sure all the others got a turn.
There were no requests for bikes or dolls from this group. Some of the under-fivers asked for a new family, but mostly the kids mugged for the camera, refusing to tell “Santa” what they wanted for Christmas. These kids had stopped believing in magic years ago. If not for James Miller, she would have become just as jaded and hardened as these kids.