by H. M. Ward
A LITTLE
CHRISTMAS
ROMANCE
H.M. Ward
www.SexyAwesomeBooks.com
Laree Bailey Press
COPYRIGHT
This book 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, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by H.M. Ward
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.
Laree Bailey Press
First Edition: Dec 2013
TABLE OF CONTENTS
COPYRIGHT
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
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A LITTLE
CHRISTMAS
ROMANCE
CHAPTER 1
The elf working next to me is going to get bitch-slapped. It’s bad enough that I’m stuck working with chimney-scented Santa, but they also have to pair me up with her? Brittani grins at me in her glittering green elf outfit, and wiggles the tips of her fingers in a cutesy-style wave. She looks like something a unicorn barfed up, and I don’t look much better. We’re both decked out in Christmas tree-colored polyester green uniforms, green tights, and green elf shoes—which means the toes curl and have a bell, because what elf would be caught dead without a set of bells on their toes—along with make-up to make the tip of my nose and my cheeks look rosy.
If someone I know spots me, they’ll laugh their ass off, which is why I’m at the mall in Massapequa instead of the one by my house. I’ve always been the chick that perky girls run away from. But, my normal dark attire is at home collecting dust. I’ve been stuck wearing this tight, itchy, thing for the past month, filling in for girls who couldn’t bother (or were too ashamed) to show up.
To sum things up—this is the worst job ever. I’d rather be a pooper scooper for reindeers, because this is hell. Imagine dressing up like a slutty elf and being forced to stand in the middle of the mall all day long with a passive aggressive Santa and a perky chick who thinks she really is an elf. This is my life.
Ignoring Brittani, I walk over and kneel down in front of the next little kid that’s in line to have her picture taken with Smokey Santa. “Hey, sweetie. Are you ready to see Santa?” Her eyes go wide when I talk to her, and then her gaze lifts to my bright red hair and pointy little cap. Then she sees them—the elf ears.
Her little hand lifts hesitantly and she points, “Your ears look pointy.”
I smile at her. She’s cute, maybe four or five, with a big red ribbon on the side of her chestnut hair. “It’s because I’m an elf.”
“And you sparkle.” Her awe is palpable.
“I’m a Vegas elf. We’re all about the glitter. Come on and see Santa. He’s the real deal.”
The little girl takes my hand as we walk up to the gingerbread house with Santa sitting on his throne, or whatever the hell it’s supposed to be. We walk slowly toward him since Brittani is letting a kid linger longer than she should.
The little girl’s grip on my hand tightens. “How do you know he’s the real Santa? My mom said the real Santa is working tonight.” He should be. NORAD has Santa’s ass in China right now, but the guy is sitting here taking gift orders. Go figure.
Smiling at her, I say, “When you get up there, take a sniff. The old guy smells like smoke. He was out earlier tonight, delivering presents and got stuck in a chimney. True story.” The little girl’s eyes light up and the second Santa’s lap is free, she races over.
Brittani scoffs and heads over to the next group, which contains one preteen boy who looks completely pissed off, and clearly does not want to be standing in line to see Santa. His arms are folded over his chest and he keeps shaking his head. Brittani can’t get him onto the red carpet where he’s supposed to wait his turn, and his little sister is starting to tear up. Not another screamer. Rushing over, I tell Brit to get the next one and lean in close to the older kid. “See Santa’s throne?” The little boy glances at me out of the corner of his eye, suspiciously. I know he doesn’t want to be caught dead anywhere near Santa’s Workshop. That stuff’s for little kids. So I hold up my hand to my mouth and lean in, whispering, “It’s made out of reindeer bones.”
“No way?” He glances over at me with wonder in his eyes. Yeah, too much Minecraft for this one.
“Way. Touch it when you walk over. The armrest on the right is made from Prancer’s left leg.”
The little boy takes his sister’s hand and pulls her onto the red carpet. His mom mouths thank you and I turn around. Only a bazillion kids to go.
After work, the night isn’t even over. I have to show my face at a family Christmas party, and act like I’m fine, before I can head home. Whatever. For the next few hours I work myself to the bone, not wanting to think about the dreaded family festivities that await me. I help little kids get their picture with Santa that all their parents want. They slap down money and shove their child at a stranger in a costume without a second thought. It’s utterly weird when you stop to think about it.
Toward the end of the night, the line shrinks until there are only a few people remaining. I’m dead on my feet, and not really paying attention when I walk over to the dwindling line. My gaze doesn’t lift from the floor and neither do my shoulders. I’m ready to do a face plant and eat carpet. I’m twenty-two, my body isn’t supposed to ache like this until I’m thirty. Somehow, I got shortchanged a few years. Mother Nature is a bitch.
The guy is placing his order with the cashier, and for the first time I zero in on his voice over the crowd noise. My heart shudders as the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
No. It can’t be him.
CHAPTER 2
I’m almost too afraid to look up. I haven’t seen Chris since high school. He was two years older than me and completely off limits. Well, I could have had him, assuming I wanted to be roadkill. Chris was the kind of guy that’s never serious about anything. I ended up in the friend zone with him, which wasn’t a bad place to be. It was a safe place to be.
Nearly four years have passed since I last saw him, but I’d recognize his voice anywhere. My stomach sinks as I look up. Holy hell, he’s hotter than I remember. Icy blue eyes meet mine as his sexy mouth twists into a timid smirk.
“Yeah, I want the Santa’s Sleigh Bells Package, but I want my picture with her.” He says to the cashier as he points at me with a sexy smile on his face.
Gwen is a middle-aged Mom with frizzy brown hair and a bad dye job. She blinks like she’s been sleeping and looks up from the cash register. “Excuse me? Did you say you wanted your picture with an elf?”
“Not any elf,” he points at me, “that elf.” Chris is grinning wickedly, licking his lips and staring at me like I’m the next yummy thing he plans to eat.
For a second, I forget everything and just stand there, shocked, with my pulse racing. He finally speaks to me, which snaps me out of it. “Hey, Brooke.”
I walk over to the cashier and look up at him. Chris is all man now, hard muscle, and a jaw that’s per
fectly sculpted, with the body of a Greek god. Yeah, so four years have done him well, but me—not so much. My hips are fuller and I swear to God that I shrunk, because he seems taller. I find my voice and try to hide my shock. “Hey, Chris. Long time.”
There’s a playful grin on his lips. “A little too long. Imagine how delighted I was when I wandered by and saw you were a hot elf. All this time you were hiding out at the North Pole. No wonder why I haven’t seen you around.”
I give him a crooked smile and look away. “Yeah, well you know how it is.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve never really talked to an elf before, and the fact that you’re the surliest person I’ve ever met isn’t lost on me, either. How many people did you beat with a penguin today?”
“Just the one.” I laugh, and shake my head as I try to avoid those piercing blue eyes.
He smirks. “So, I’ll be number two.”
“That’s not something I’d go around saying out loud.”
Chris offers me that smile of his. It’s purely sexual with promises of carnal acts that will make my heart skip a beat and explode. Chris’s gaze dips to the carpet and then back up. “I probably shouldn’t tell people that I was standing in line all night to see you, either, but I did.”
Crap. He did not. The pit of my stomach drops as I think about Chris shooting pictures of me all over the internet. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
Tilting his head back, he narrows his gaze and slips his hands into his pockets. “Well, I didn’t hit tweet yet, but I could.” There it is. This beautiful man wants something from me.
Frack. “What’ll it cost me?”
“A picture with me, and maybe dinner.”
I look at him like he’s insane and point out the obvious. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Yes, I realize that. If it wasn’t, we’d need to do an intervention, because you look like you recently escaped from the Keebler factory, Brooke.”
I roll my eyes and tell the cashier to let him through. “Fine, but I’m not sitting on your lap.”
“Like I’d offer,” he retorts, dryly.
Santa quietly vacates his seat and goes to stand by Brit. Chris and I stand shoulder to shoulder and look straight ahead at the camera. They all watch us with knowing smiles, but they don’t know reindeer turds. Chris isn’t Mr. Relationship and I’m not looking for a one-nighter. As it is, life is hard. I don’t need another person who’ll use me and run. Besides, Chris doesn’t think of me like that. The entire time I knew him, he never put a move on me. We’re the definition of platonic.
As the photographer gets the camera ready, I mention, “I bet that’s one you haven’t done yet. Sex with an elf.” A satisfied smile lines my lips, as Blane, the camera guy, tells us to smile.
Chris chooses that moment to whisper in my ear, “Actually, I’d hoped to add an elf to my list tonight.”
My jaw drops as the shutter snaps. Turning quickly, I punch his arm and laugh. “Jackass.”
Still smiling, Chris watches me as I walk away, waiting to be rewarded for paying fifty bucks for the worst picture of us in existence. But, he doesn’t say anything. Chris just smiles at me, and waits for his prints on the other side of Santa’s Workshop.
CHAPTER 3
A few more stragglers bring in their sleepy kids right before we close. When the last one is finished, I glance around for Chris, but he’s gone. The smile slips off my face and I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed. Either way, that’s that. Chris is gone and I can head to the Christmas party from hell.
“Who was that?” Brittani finally asks as we clean up and get ready to close.
“Someone from high school.”
“He was so hot. Do you think he was serious?” Okay, this conversation just crossed into Uncomfortable Land. I avoid her gaze as I bend over and unplug a reindeer. “Brooke, are you going to sleep with him?”
Before I stand up, I answer, “Of course not. He was only kidding, besides, he’s long gone.”
“No, he’s not. He’s sitting right over there, waiting for you.” What? Brittani points, and I follow her finger to a bench across the corridor. Chris is sitting there with his long legs kicked out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. “You go ahead. I’ll close up.” She smiles at me.
I want to protest, but I also want to talk to him some more. Maybe she’s not an evil elf, after all. “Thanks, Brit. Merry Christmas.”
“You too.”
I grab my purse and saunter across the mall to where he’s sitting. Folding my arms across my chest, I stick out my hip, and glare at him. “Why are you still here?”
“Why do you look so hot?” I roll my eyes and turn to leave. Chris jumps up and is next to me before I’m two steps down the hallway that leads to my car. “Brooke, wait.” He touches my elbow and sends a current straight through my heart. I don’t mean to, but I shake him off. What the hell was that? His blue eyes slip over my face, like he’s worried that he won’t see me again. “Let me take you to dinner. We can catch up. You can tell me about the one ring to rule them all, and I can tell you how much I’ve missed you.” He was always charming, but this is a bit much. It feels like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t.
I laugh, but it’s of the nervous, defensive, variety. Chris looks at me like he can tell. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
His fingers brush my arm, hesitantly, and a shiver rips through me again, making me feel like I licked a socket. “Which part are you contesting? That you’re dressed like an elf or that I missed you, because I think both points are pretty clear.”
Pressing my lips together, I stop walking just before the glass doors to the parking lot. The PA system in the mall announces that it’s closing time and tells people to get out. A few shoppers rush past us with big bags. I bet their lucky kids get tape and rubber band balls because every store has been picked clean. The only things left are office supplies. Happy Christmas, here’s a stapler.
I bite back what I want to say and just push through the doors. It’s snowing. Great. My coat is in the car, so I sprint for it. Chris is on my heels, manages to catch up, and snatches my wrist before I can get the door open. He yanks it hard, making me spin around to face him. He takes a step toward me and uses his body to pin me in place. Sparks shoot through each point of contact and short out my brain.
He lowers his face so that his lips are right by mine. “Have dinner with me.”
“No.” My voice is gone. It comes out in a breath of frozen air.
“Have dinner with me.” He says it again, but his voice sounds different. Chris tips his head to the side and inches closer to my lips, but he still lingers too far away to kiss me.
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I shake my head once, slightly.
Chris presses his forehead to mine. “Have dinner with me.”
A shiver darts down my spine, but it has nothing to do with the weather. My eyes dart between his mouth and the ground. “Say what you really want, Chris.”
The smile fades from his lips. “I want you, Brooke.”
My heart flutters. He said exactly what I wanted to hear, but he’s said those words to lots of other girls too. “Thanks, but no.” Pressing my hands onto his chest, I push him away, and turn to unlock my door.
“You’re really going to drive away and leave me here?” He gives me a puppy dog face as snowflakes land in his dark hair.
After unlocking the door, I look up at him. “You really want to come with me?”
He nods. “Anywhere. Take me, baby.” He grins and then forces a serious face. “I mean it. Let’s go. Anywhere you want.”
Sucker. I point at the passenger door of my beat up old car. “Get in.”
CHAPTER 4
Aunt Maureen nearly rips off Chris’ cheek when she pinches his face. “He’s so cute! Where’d you find him?”
“At the mall. They had a dozen other models exactly like him.” Grinning, I wink at Chris.
He extracts his face from Aunt Maureen’s grip. “Oh, burn
. I’m hurt. Seriously. You think this could be mass produced?” He presses his hand to his chest, like he’s a sight to behold, and he is, but Chris doesn’t need a bigger ego, so I don’t bother looking at him.
“You won’t have a face left after this. All these old ladies are going to pinch it off. Oh, and stay away from Nick and Aunt Chrissy.” I start to walk away, but Chris reaches out for me, grabbing my wrist.
Nervously he asks, “Where are you going?”
I gesture to my outfit. “Elf, hello? Santa needs me.” I wink and disappear through the crowd of crazy people who happen to be my family. They’re loud and most of them are intoxicated. Add in the hyper children and the falling snow, and it’s a scary sight.
My cousin, Rachel, grabs my arm. “Is that—”
“No.” I cut her off before Chris hears and grab her arm, walking away from him as fast as possible.
“But it looks like that guy you used to have a crush on. And he’s totally drooling over you.” Rach follows me back to Aunt Maureen’s bedroom. I’m supposed to help Santa in through the window. Hopefully no one will shoot his ass before I can pull him through. We aren’t in the best neighborhood.
I unlock the window and push it open. My cousin Jimmy is standing outside, wearing a santa costume. “Brookie! Nice elf ears.”
“Bite me.”
Rachel is still needling me. “So, are you guys a thing? Have you seen his thing?” She giggles and sloshes the contents of her red plastic cup, as I try to push the screen out of the window. Jimmy makes a face and the screen falls.
“Nope and no plans to, but if he’s lucky Nick is probably hitting on him right now.”
Rachel giggles, “Or Aunt Chrissy. God, she’s a slut and he’s fresh meat. Both of them are going to be all over him since you walked away.”
