by Pixie Chica
His Christmas Delivery
Love for the Holidays, Book Four
Pixie Chica
His Christmas Delivery
© Pixie Chica 2019
All Rights Reserved by the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark. This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.
ASIN: B081SCC9PW
Created with Vellum
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
1. Kent
2. John Alexander
3. Kent
4. John
5. Kent
Epilogue One - Kent
Epilogue Two - John Alexander
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by Author
There’s a yin to every yang.
An uptight to every free spirit.
Love knows no boundaries,
only emotions and what the heart wants.
Prologue
John Alexander
The week before Christmas…
I’m used to waking up by myself, but doing so during the holidays makes me feel more alone than usual, especially now that the Claus twins have found their ones. They left for a few weeks and came back with their respective soulmates, and I am happy for them, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous, too. I’ll be thirty in a few months, and while that’s still young, I’m losing hope each day of meeting my one.
Deciding not to worry as nothing can be done now, I get up and stride toward my closet where I choose from my suits, each a carbon copy of the other, then make my way to the bathroom. Turning the water on, I let the heat of it cascade over me, hoping it can warm my soul. I love it here, and remind myself I have a great life, so I shouldn’t be ungrateful, fully aware many have it worse.
My own mom, for example. Prior to coming to the North Pole, she struggled to raise me by herself. There were times we were practically homeless while she worked part-time as a gift wrapper. Thankfully, Genevieve Claus happened upon her and offered her a job then and there.
After that, I grew up surrounded by love and was given the opportunity to be someone because of their generosity. Moving here gave us so much, including Tony, the man who would not only become the only dad I ever knew, but he also treats my mom like a queen, their love so true anyone could see it a mile away. I want that, the yin to my yang, as my mom loves to say. She prefers structure, as do I life, and Tony is the exact opposite. He loves to do whatever it takes to make her laugh. They complement each other, and I refuse to settle for less than that.
Once I’ve finished my strict morning routine, I head toward the shop. Things are finally getting back to normal following the chaos that ensued while Joe and Brandie were gone. Well, except for my crew, of course.
Tony made it possible for my mom to fulfill her dream, so she now owns the local diner, The Lounge, though she still wraps at times to help out. I stop in, and am greeted by the patrons, some wanting a handshake, others a hug. I grin and bear it as they’ve become my extended family over the years, but I’m not good with affection…just another reason I’ll still be single when I’m eighty.
“John Alexander, come see your mom!” I hear her shout, and turn to see Crystal right behind her. They’ve taken a liking to each other since the latter came here with Joe, and I’m glad. My mom will never admit it as she wouldn’t want to risk hurting my feelings, but I know she wanted a daughter, too. She’s found the next best thing in Crystal, the soon-to-be Mrs. Santa Claus as Gregory and Genevieve retired.
“Hi, Mom, Crystal,” I say, giving my mom a peck on the cheek, and Crystal a nod. Dad, rarely far from my mom, gives me a hug and asks what I’m up to. I tell him I’m off to the shop to ensure the toys are ready to go.
He gives me a pat on the shoulder, saying how proud he is of me. It may sound strange, but he always does it, and it never fails to stay with me. I grab breakfast to go, and am subjected to another hug from my parents. They know how I feel about it, but refuse to let a day go by without letting me know I’m loved.
“Can I have a word with you?” Crystal asks as I walk to the door.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“My friend is moving here permanently, but I’m unable to help him do so. I spoke with Joe and his parents, and they said you’re the only one with a team on track. I was hoping I could ask a favor, but only if you want to. Also, I know I’ve been hanging around your mom a lot, and I hope that’s not a problem,” she blurts out, the spunky woman I met a few days ago seeming suddenly vulnerable. I’m sure there’s a story behind it, but I try to keep out of people's business.
“Not at all, she’s amazing. And it’s nice that she has you to spend time with since I’m at the shop all day.” I chuckle, adding, “I should thank you as she finally has someone who enjoys baking and cooking as much as she does. What exactly do you need me to do?”
“Grace and I are really the only family he has, and we’d like to get him here as soon as possible so he isn’t alone for Christmas,” she begins, her smile holding a hint of mischief to it, then asks, “How does a week in Florida sound? You can help him pack and bring him up here at the end of it.”
I don’t answer immediately, preferring to take a minute to weigh my options. First, I’m reluctant to accept as I don’t really trust my crew to keep on track without me because I’m a control freak and everyone knows it. The flip side to that is number two. What if they actually follow through while I’m gone? Then what’ll I do with myself? But the third is clawing its way forward, reminding me I could have time to myself, when I’m not helping some guy pack. I usually opt out taking my vacation, choosing to remain behind to clean up. I want to say yes, to do something so far out character, that I agree before I change my mind.
“I’ll do it."
Chapter One
Kent
I wiped the sweat off my brow, fuck it was hot in here. I was packing my stuff, along with the rest of Crystal’s. I had a week and this was only the beginning, as I had also been tasked with closing both Crystal’s and Grace’s businesses for the winter. That meant boxing everything those two little witches left behind. Apparently confusing me with a miracle worker, they thought this was going to be an easy process. Pfft. I wasn’t the one who had hooked up with a Claus, they were. Nonetheless, I was going to do it.
Just yesterday, Crystal had called to give me a detailed list that was at least three pages long of things that I had to get done. Not only that, I still had to ship all the orders they had left behind, and work my last couple shifts at the club I DJ at. The worst part was that I couldn’t tell anyone where I was going.
Not that I had anyone to really miss me, other than the few drag queens I worked with who had become good friends
. My parents and I had stopped talking years ago. They, being only children themselves, did not give me any uncles or aunts who would miss me. Which meant, I only had the girls. Crystal and Grace, my two best friends that I met three years ago. Since then, we had been inseparable and now I was making the ultimate move for them. The North fucking Pole, with Santa, reindeers, and Lord knows what else, elves yes definitely elves. In fact, Crystal was sending me one of the workers this way.
Images of an elf, with pointy ears and a ridiculous outfit come to mind. I knew all about ridiculous outfits, I wore them year-round at Frost’s Christmas Emporium, as a uniform. I chuckled to myself, at all the memories of the things I had worn. Not today though, today I went in with shorts and I was shirtless. It was absolutely way too hot to wear anything else, especially when I was doing such heavy lifting. With Florida deciding to have a tantrum, 2 days of rain followed by the biggest heat wave of the season, everywhere was muggy. I was wondering if somehow, we had ended up in some hell chamber.
When you add to that, all the angry clients that were just not understanding that the girls had found love and left, having to answer the door every few minutes. I was gonna kill them in the most painful of ways. As if I had jinxed myself, I hear the knock on the door, and I decide to ignore it. There’s a perfectly good sign on it saying We're Closed, and I actually have to get a move on. If I keep stopping, I’ll be here until next year. I lift the heaviest box move it toward the hallway, when I hear the incessant knock again. A few more times this happens until I am pissed. Whomever that is, they are a pain in my fucking ass.
I squeeze my way through the small spaces and finally make it to the front. Without thinking twice I open the door ready to go off. “Do you not see the fucking closed sign, it’s closed. As in not here, not gonna be here today, or tomorrow and not the next day....” I’m mid rant when I take in the man on the other side of the door. He’s a few inches taller than my own 5 '11 and he looks like a million bucks. From the tailored suit, to that neat brown hair that’s cut so short and perfectly trimmed beard to match, he reeks of business executive to a T. I usually can’t stand men like him, always so full of prudish attitudes, looking down on others. The perfect example was Crystal’s family and I wanted nothing to do with people like that. Just seeing how that whole thing went down between them I was glad I stayed away from men like this one. Which is why the fact that his clear blue eyes were affecting me was pissing me off.
“Sorry, I ah… I didn’t mean to bother you. I was sent here by Crystal, maybe I’m in the wrong place.” He says in a gravelly low voice stepping back to look at the number on the door. Fuck this was my helper. Since when did tall, devastatingly handsome men, who looked like they belonged on the cover of GQ become Santa’s elves. The stories had all fooled us.
“No, you’re in the right place, um… come in. I wasn’t expecting you just yet, and not anyone that looks like you, that’s for sure.” I mumble the last part. “I open the door to let him through, and his subtle cologne hits me. Holy fuck, yeah, this man is not a damn elf.
“What exactly were you expecting?” He says turning towards me, and I almost smack right into him.
“I ah… well you know. Pointy ears, pointy shoes, dressed in a green, or red felt outfit.” I admit, and I can feel the blush creep up. I’m not embarrassed easily, but I had just stereotyped Mr. Gorgeous-and-knows-it.
The jerk has the nerve to chuckle, and the sound is so rich it has me wanting to bask in it. “Sorry to disappoint, but if it helps you can consider me Lead Inspector of Toy Quality Elf. Having gone to the university and all, I can own up to the name. And the ears well they retract when I’m out in public.”
“Really? Can I see? And is it like a real elf university?”
This time it’s not a chuckle but a full-blown laugh, and I realize he’s pulling my chain. Pissed off I walk away not bothering to tell him to follow me. Of course he’s hot on my trail and I want to punch him in the throat, or maybe his face, so he could be less attractive. Or more, considering he might look like a badass.
“Hey, hey, wait. Listen I was just messing around, I don’t get to meet a lot of people who know about us that isn’t us. It was cute to see you believe my bullshit.”
That stops me in my tracks. He stumbles into me and has to take a few quick steps back not to fall over. “Cute, you’re trying to tell me that I’m cute. I’m a fucking thirty-year-old man who can more than likely kick your ass. There’s nothing cute about me. I don’t enjoy getting made fun off by men like you. Men who think they are better than everyone else in the room and belittle everyone. I know your kind.”
My words shock him, and I instantly feel bad when I see his demeanor change. He goes quiet and starts to stare at the ground. “I apologize, I… I shouldn’t have done that. I’m not great with people and I don’t even know why I let Crystal convince me to come. I’m better off in my office where people are used to my awkwardness. Fucking knew this would happen, the one up in smoke.” He whispers the last part and I’m trying to decipher what exactly he said.
“It’s fine, I’m sorry I blew up. I’m not great reading people either, Crystal’s family are suits, as my own father was. Both weren’t great examples, but we’ll have to co-exist, so let’s start over. I’m Kent Kayson.” I extend my hand for a handshake and he takes it.
“John Alexander Jones.”
Fuck this was the single guy Brandie had talked about. The current of electricity that courses through me has me dropping his hand abruptly, and we both look at each other. Did he feel that too?
Chapter Two
John Alexander
I surely wasn’t expecting my future when I knocked on the address Crystal had given me, but now that I have, I’m not sure how to get this man to understand it. I already messed up the first impression because I was so amused at how adorable he was in what he thought I would look like. Now he’s been pretty much barking orders at me, and avoiding all unnecessary contact with me.
Just as I had predicted, when I met the one, I was going to fuck it up royally. The man already had a predetermined hatred of all men who wore suits, and I wore them ninety-nine percent of the time. First thing I was doing was getting a new outfit, one that didn’t remind him of how much he wanted to eliminate me from his life. Then I needed to learn how to actually talk to people. I was horrible at it, but the one thing I found amazing was my need to actually touch him.
Since he shook my hand it was like I had a magnet pulling me to do it again. I wanted to know what it felt to hold him in my arms and walk down the street his hand in mine. Both things I never had the urge to do. The few boyfriends I had in the past always told me I was cold, or distant. Which was true looking back, not a single one had caused me these feelings even after dating them for months.
Looking over to him, trying to sneak a look, I feel my pants start to strangle me. I adjust myself, hoping my jacket can cover the damn hard on I’m sporting. Now I’m going to have to wear this all day and look more like a loon.
The man belongs as a model with his tanned skin and caramel eyes. I watch as he lifts another box and a drop of sweat runs down his broad back and not for the first time today, I wonder what it would feel like to lick it off him. That should have all kinds of warning bells going off about the state of my mind, but it doesn't. He’s strong but not built like some men that are all bulgy muscles. He’s more athletic and leaner, and again my mind wanders to pushing him against a wall as I pull on his ponytail, and bite his neck. The feel of his scruffy beard against my own. Fuck me, I’m going to be sporting a wet spot.
He turns around with a questioning look, and I realize I’ve said the words out loud. I can only hope he didn’t hear me and get back to work. Hours go by where we get most of everything packed, and I get him to loosen up enough to where he accepts having dinner with me. Well not quite, he accepts picking up pizza and bringing it back to the shop. But I’m counting it as a date, I got to take all the little advantages I can.
“Ok so tell me, what is the worst thing about you?” He asks me, and there’s a glint of honest curiosity in his eyes.
“I don’t ‘people’ well,” I admit. “I often say things that people don’t take quite right, case in point, our earlier interaction. I also struggle with being affectionate.”
“That can’t be good for your boyfriend.” He tells me, having already established we were both gay.
“No boyfriend, it’s been a while unless you consider work my man. It keeps me up at all hours of the night.” I laugh, but there’s so much truth in that statement.
“Oh so you’re one of those workaholics.” He says and the words sound like poison coming out of his mouth. His eyes darken and there’s something there. Needing to see him happy again, I lie and hope I can deliver on it when the time comes.
“It’s just something I do to pass the time. There’s nothing and no one at home waiting for me.” I shrug.
“Ok, I guess I get that.”
Deciding I need to put myself out there, I bite my lip, second guessing myself. I could feel myself start to get anxious. Would I be ok with him rejecting me? No, I wouldn’t, but I still had to try. If he said no, I would keep trying until he realized that we were meant to be. We just had to be, because I hadn’t felt like this just looking at someone before.
