“Um,” I asked Jim or Bob, whoever the man standing in front of me was. It was the scowling guy, unfortunately. “Do you know how Lydia’s system works? How do I check you out?”
His big meaty finger, with dirty nails, stretched out and tapped a notebook on the counter. “She writes it down.”
For a second I wasn’t even sure what the hell he was talking about. Then I realized with dawning horror that Lydia had no cash register. Nothing that would automatically tally her sales and receipts and give her an inventory.
Not wanting to insult my recently deceased relative, with great bravado I flipped open the book. There it was. Presumably it was Sandy who had penciled in the most recent orders. “Are you Jim, Bob, or Daniel?”
“Bob.” He handed me the exact amount of money in cash to match what it said in the ledger. Right down to the penny.
“Excellent. Thanks, Bob.” Where was I supposed to put the cash? I glanced around for something, anything. My eyes fell on a firebox. I flipped it open. Yep. There was the cash. I shoved the money in and was about to ask Bob what next when I realized he had already come around the counter and was grabbing a bag and tossing it over his shoulder.
Okay, then.
I repeated the process with Jim and Daniel, both of whom at least attempted to be friendly with questions like, “You ever seen any famous people?” and “What kind of dog is that?”
Once I was alone, I did a bad thing. I strode down the Great Divide to the front door and locked it. I couldn’t help it. I was exhausted to the point of swaying on my feet, and there were two more names marked down in that book.
Then I found the back room, which seemed to serve as an office and break room. There was a refrigerator, a dinette table, a desk, filing cabinets, and a TV. There was also, praise Great Aunt Lydia, a sofa. I did open the other door in the back room and discovered that it led to a warehouse, but I didn’t care enough to explore it fully. I just retreated to the couch, peeled off my coat to use as a blanket, and divested myself of my boots. I checked the heels for damage from the snow and discovered some sort of white film on them.
That sucked. I tried to wipe it off, and it sort of came off. I’d have to Google how to treat snow-damaged designer boots.
I was just going to close my eyes for five minutes. Okay, maybe twenty. A power nap, then I would unlock the door again.
I fell asleep instantly, Louis curled on my chest under my cheetah print coat.
I was woken up when my dog let out a rumbling growl. I jerked awake, panicked, knowing that was his warning bark for another person or animal.
Sitting up so fast I got light-headed, I tried to both assess the danger and remember where my purse containing mace was, when I suddenly realized what I was looking at.
Something that might resemble a squeak came out of my mouth.
Because inches from my face was a man’s very big, very hard cock. It was firmly outlined behind a pair of tight boxer briefs, though his muscular thighs were covered in a red poly-blend fur and his feet in black boots. What the hell? I raised my gaze, taking in bare skin above the briefs, solid abs, and a chest that just begged to be explored.
Once I took in a very good-looking guy, no older than early thirties, wearing a curious and possibly aroused expression, I saw he had a telltale red cap on his head. He seemed to be in the process of putting on the suit and God bless Louis, I’d woken up in time to see it.
I blame the sleep deprivation for what I did next.
“Hey, Santa,” I murmured, gazing up at him. “I see you have a big package for me.”
Two
Joe
I hitched my pants up, fastening them quickly as the sleeping brunette woke up. She had a small dog—though it wasn’t much bigger than a rabbit—crouched on her chest, teeth bared, growling threateningly. Which was laughable considering the tiny creature was actually dressed in a sweater.
Who put clothes on a dog?
I jerked my head toward the animal. “Wanna call off the well-dressed guard dog?” I asked.
The woman smiled and stroked the dog’s head. I was glad I’d had the foresight to pull my pants up. My cock had gone hard the second she’d asked if I had a big package for her. Because at the moment, the answer was yes. And she was more than welcome to unwrap it if she wanted.
She petted the tiny creature, cooing, “It’s okay, Louis. It’s only Santa Claus.”
I glanced down at myself and sighed. I’d come back here to try on the new Santa suit my mother had made. The one I’d donned for the annual Christmas party for more years than I cared to admit had been ruined last year when little Tommy Clarkson threw up on me while informing me—Santa—that he wanted some stunt plane rocket thing that would soar a million miles into space when he stomped on it. Unfortunately, he’d decided to demonstrate, and that was when things took a bad turn. Rather than attempt to scrub out the sticky candy cane, sugar cookie, hot cocoa mess that seemed to cover every inch of me, Mom declared it was time for a new suit.
Of course, at the time, I’d told her to find another Santa. That I’d more than done my part. I should have known that wouldn’t stick. My mother was incapable of hearing the word no.
So when she said the suit was ready, and she needed me to try it on in case it needed alterations, I didn’t even waste my breath reiterating my desire to hang up my Santa hat.
I hadn’t expected to find a woman sacked out on the couch under some animal print jacket, and I hadn’t seen the dog at all until I’d gotten closer. Not that that was surprising. I’d seen bigger bugs than this little mutt.
I just don’t get people with small dogs. I mean if you want a pet to sit on your lap and play dress-up, get a cat. Give me a black lab or German shepherd any day of the week. Those are real dogs.
“You’re Paris?” I asked, though I already knew that was who I was talking to. Mom had gone to pick up Lydia’s niece this morning, though why the woman had chosen to nap in the back workroom rather than sleep in the comfortable bed waiting for her in Lydia’s house was beyond me.
“Yes,” she said, sitting up and running a hand through her long dark hair.
She placed the dog on the floor, and he instantly came over to sniff my boots. I eyeballed him for a second in case the little bastard decided to lift his leg and treat me like a fire hydrant.
Paris tugged one bare foot under her, drawing my attention to her long legs in her skinny jeans. I was a sucker for a girl with long legs. “I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised to run into Santa. It is the North Pole after all.”
I chuckled, glad she wasn’t the type to spook easy. After all, she’d just woken up to find a stranger in his boxer briefs standing over her. “I’m Joe.”
“Oh yeah. Sandy said you’d be stopping by.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, then stretched, arching her back and drawing my attention to her breasts. Damn. I was a sucker for nice tits too.
Lydia’s niece was hot. Fucking gorgeous.
And I...was goddamn Santa Claus sporting a boner.
I reached for the red jacket with white trim and held it in front of me when her eyes drifted to the South Pole, her smile growing as she winked at me.
“Aren’t you a little young to be Santa?” she asked.
“The kids around here aren’t fussy as long as they can rattle off their long lists of dream toys to someone. Plus, the fake white beard and wig help age me enough to fool the youngest ones. The rest probably know it’s me, but they play along anyway. You realize Lydia’s house is close, right? You could have gone there to rest.”
Paris shrugged. “Sandy was in a hurry to get to the dentist, and I get the sense she needed someone to run the store while she was gone. I took the red-eye flight here. Got a little woozy, so I thought I’d grab a quick power nap.” She glanced at her watch, her eyes widening. “Shit. Three hours ago.” She hopped up quickly, somewhat disoriented and panicked.
“It’s okay. Mom called me a little while ago to say it was taking longer than
she thought. She asked me to come check up on you.”
“But what if someone needed to come in?”
I shrugged. “The world’s not going to stop spinning just because the Holly Jolly Feed and Seed was closed for a few hours. Though I suspect the afternoon business is going to pick up because of the snowstorm coming.”
“Yeah, your mom told me about that. Ten inches.”
As if on cue, there was a loud banging on the front door of the store. The Holly Jolly wasn’t usually closed this time of day, and if someone had driven into town to pick up an order, they’d sit out front for hours if needed until someone opened up.
Paris sighed, her smile fading as she stood. “Duty calls.”
Her resigned tone caught me by surprise. My mother had assured me Lydia’s niece was coming to North Pole to take over the store. Now, as Paris stood and pulled her jacket back on, I took a good look at her. She really was beautiful, but it only took me two seconds to see the California girl did not fit in here with her high-heeled boots that no sane person would walk on ice in and that tiny cheetah coat that wouldn’t cover enough to keep her warm.
“I’m going to finish trying this on. My mom should be back soon. Once she gets here, we can get your bags, and I’ll take you over to Lydia’s house.”
Paris took two steps toward me, and I was surprised when she stopped right in front of me. With only a few inches between us, I could see the green specks in her rich-brown eyes and the pink spots of color on her cheeks that darkened when she reached up and played with the white ball at the end of my Santa cap. “You still owe me a big package,” she teased before turning and walking out front.
I dropped down on the couch, trying to shake some sense into my head. Paris was going to be trouble with a capital T. Women like her didn’t stay in North Pole. Hell, it wasn’t just women like her. Apparently, it was any woman I was interested in.
I’d dated two women in my life, just two. Most of my friends who’d remained in North Pole after graduation had married their high school sweethearts, and I had expected to do the same.
Rose. Sweet Rose. My first love. We’d started dating during our sophomore year, and I constantly talked about our future, about marriage and kids, and Rose had been right there with me, dreaming the same dreams. It wasn’t until after we graduated that I realized Rose intended to live out those dreams somewhere—anywhere—else. I’d been blindsided, then devastated when I told her I intended to stay in North Pole, and she said she didn’t. She broke things off and moved to Chicago.
I had a rough few years after that, constantly questioning whether or not I’d been right to let Rose leave town without me. The problem was while Rose knew North Pole wasn’t where she belonged, I knew it was the only place I’d ever be happy. Besides, who the hell chose to live in Chicago?
Then I met Anna, who’d left her big city life in Indianapolis to set down roots in North Pole. She’d left a successful career in an HR department of a large corporation to open her own flower shop on Main Street because she longed for a simpler life.
I fell head over ass in love with her, and for one year, we were inseparable. Then I made the mistake of proposing to her at the holiday party.
Imagine my surprise when Anna broke down in tears and told me she was closing up her shop and moving back to Indianapolis. She told me she’d gotten her old job back because—and this was the part that really hurt—she could feel herself shriveling up in this dusty, nowhere town.
I’d come to life during the year we’d spent together, happier than I’d ever been, and she was “shriveling up.”
Leaning my head back against the couch, I closed my eyes, blew out a long breath, and willed my erection to go away.
Unfortunately, when you haven’t had sex in two years a dick won’t go down without a fight. I stood up, forcing myself to think about the Colts’ lousy season and the death of my dog, Trixie.
Boner gone, I traded out the Santa suit for my jeans and flannel shirt and went out to resist the temptation of a petite brunette who had no idea how big my package could get.
Paris
I closed the door to the back room to give Joe some privacy as he changed clothes, though that was the last thing I wanted to do. I’d seen some well-built, sexy-as-sin men in my life. After all, I lived in Los Angeles, where beauty was practically a prerequisite, but Joe was...something else.
He was earthy and masculine, and he reminded me of a lumberjack. And while I wouldn’t have expected to find that so incredibly arousing, the truth was my nipples were tight, my stomach was twittery, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to turn around and go sit on Santa’s lap. No. Not sit. Straddle.
I actually made a half turn to do that when the man standing at the counter said, “I’m here to pick up my order.”
I walked toward the counter, surprised to find a little boy, who couldn’t have been more than seven or eight, chowing down on a Lunchable.
I was even more surprised when I realized the man—Roger, Joe had called him—was actually talking to the kid, not me.
“Sure thing, Roger,” the little boy said, hopping down from the stool where he’d been perched. He looked up at me when I didn’t step aside, and I realized I was in his way.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, taking one step to the right to allow him to pass.
The little boy led Roger to two bags of feed and said, “These are yours.”
So Lydia’s staff consisted of Sandy and a small child? What the hell had I gotten myself into? Was I going to get sued for child labor law violations? The kid was wearing a name tag though I couldn’t read what it said.
Roger stepped back up to the counter and looked at me like I was six eggs short of a dozen when I failed to move.
“Oh, sorry,” I said again, feeling like an idiot. I opened the notebook and marked off Roger’s order, taking his money.
“Thanks for shopping here,” I said, trying to recover from my previous missteps.
Roger wrinkled his nose, shaking his head as if confused. “Where else would I buy my feed?”
Clearly, he didn’t need an answer to that as he slung the two bags over his shoulders and walked out.
The little boy slid behind me and reclaimed his stool and his Lunchable.
“And who might you be?” I asked.
“I’m Jaden.”
Ooookay. That answered nothing. “Do you work here, Jaden?”
Jaden giggled. “No. I get off the bus here. My grandma Sandy works here.” He tapped his name badge. “But I help out because I know where everything is, and I’m super strong.”
And now it all made sense. “I see. You’ve got all kinds of muscles there.” He was actually scrawny and lanky, but I didn’t want to burst his bubble. Living in California had taught me how fragile the male ego was.
Then I put the rest of the pieces together. If Sandy was Jaden’s grandmother, then Jaden must be…I glanced toward the back room.
Damn. Was Joe married with a kid? I’d been so distracted by the man’s six-pack abs, I’d made the rookie mistake of not looking for a wedding ring.
Jaden finished up his after-school snack and hopped back down from the stool. “Are you Paris?”
I nodded. “Yes. I am.”
“Miss Lydia told me about you. She said you were coming to run the store when she was gone.” From the sad expression on Jaden’s face, it was clear he’d loved my Aunt Lydia. I considered asking him if he’d gotten the same birthday cards with five dollars in them as well.
Jaden walked over to the middle of the building, his feet straddling the line between the Christmas shop and the Feed and Seed. He started swaying slightly. What an odd kid.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Jaden waved me over. “This is the best spot in the whole store.”
I moved until I was next to him, glancing around, wondering what made it so special. “Looks the same here as it does over there.”
Jaden shook his head. “No. You h
ave to listen.”
I focused on the music and realized there were two different stations playing. “Deck the Halls” was ringing out on the Christmas side, while Kenny Rogers’ voice filled the Feed and Seed side with the sad tale of “The Gambler.”
Incredibly enough, Aunt Lydia had somehow fixed the volume on both so that unless I was standing where Jaden was, I only heard one or the other, not both. It seemed almost magical.
“That’s incredible,” I murmured, finding myself charmed by it.
“Did you meet the reindeer yet?” Jaden asked.
I shook my head. I didn’t do farm animals. I wasn’t touching anything that had antlers, alive or dead. Sorry. Paris out.
“They’re the second-best thing in the store,” the little boy informed me.
I was relieved. If they were in the store, they were probably decorations, not living animals. As we crossed into the Christmas shop, I started to feel guilty about my plans to sell the store. It was obvious Sandy and Jaden loved it. I wondered if I could find buyers who would agree to let Sandy continue working here. Or maybe Sandy could afford to buy it herself.
We passed a wide array of blow-up yard decorations. It appeared Lydia had been the one supplying her neighbors. Then Jaden stopped in front of a display of life-size reindeer statues.
Wow. They were all there. Rudolph and Donner and Blitzen and...
Jaden patted the nose of the lead one. “Hiya, Clint.”
“Clint?”
Jaden looked at me and nodded earnestly. “Yeah. This one is Clint Black. He’s the leader.”
I pointed to the red-nosed reindeer. “Rudolph isn’t the leader?”
Jaden rolled his eyes as if I’d lost my mind. “That’s not Rudolph. That’s Tim McGraw. He’s got a cold.”
“Did you name the reindeer?” I asked, amused by his departure from the traditional reindeer stories.
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