Page 21 of Sexy Claus
She didn’t look up when he sat, evidently entranced by the package of sliced apples. The wrapper crinkled in her grasp—fingers that were decidedly not those of an eighty-something-year-old woman.
Mrs. Barber hadn’t missed Claus for a Cause since she’d been given the role at least thirty years ago, so having a replacement was a big deal.
He tried and failed to get a look at her stand-in’s face to see who had replaced his sixth grade English teacher this year. The imposter wore a snowy white wig, something her predecessor had never needed. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose and the ruffly collar of her dress came up to her chin.
She swapped the apples for another package about the same size, but she didn’t open it.
She has to look up sometime.
Stifling his curiosity, he lifted both flaps on the top of the box and pulled out his sandwich. As he loosened the wrapper, his lunch companion finally shifted enough for him to catch a glimpse of a rosy cheek. The color seemed unnatural, like she’d used some sort of makeup to create the pink glow that matched her down-turned lips. Considering how she was ignoring him, the chances of her being one of the previous schemers were slim. They’d all flaunted their bodies and flirted within an inch of their lives, in hopes of bagging the bachelor who they thought liked to play hard to get.
Not interested is more like it.
The woman he wanted was making him work for it—with no guaranteed prize at the end.
He bit his sandwich, chewing a little more vigorously than necessary. Christy hadn’t answered her phone this morning when he’d called to make arrangements for her car to be towed and repaired. However, no transportation meant she couldn’t leave town yet.
I need more time.
To do what?
He had no secret weapon to convince her to stay. Asking her had gotten him nowhere. Promising to fight for her hadn’t done any good. Telling her he loved her—in writing—had sent her fleeing into the dark.
Mrs. Claus scraped her chair away from the table as she returned most of her wrap, the package of apples, and the mini bag of pretzels to the box. Without a word, she turned her back to him and scurried out of the room, her candy-cane print dress swishing around her ankles. Murmurs from the hallway suggested she’d spoken to his daughter during her quick exit.
This afternoon’s activities should be loads of fun. The woman can’t even say hello to the guy she’s pretending to be married to.
Ho.
Ho.
Ho.
He finished his meal with eight minutes to spare and set off for the closest restroom to check his beard for crumbs and prepare for a three-hour shift at the center of attention with no break. After an adjustment to his padding and belt and a last check in the mirror, he marched to the gymnasium.
The crowd of kids and adults Brenna had told him to expect waited outside the set of double doors at the far end of the space, their laughter and chatter carrying to the throne-like seat reserved for him. A fake fir tree about twice his height stood behind it, its lights reflecting off the silver bells scattered throughout the branches.Enter HereandExit Heresigns hung from chains on either side of the roped off area, but he was less concerned about crowd control than women on the prowl.
As he sat in the chair, his less-than-talkative other half walked through the same side door he’d used a few paces behind a pair of burly teenagers. Each boy hefted a large basket and blocked most of his view of Mrs. Claus. Only her low-heeled boots that clicked in a steady clip-clop, clip-clop on the polished floor were visible except the lower part of her full skirt.
He braced for the cold shoulder again when her overgrown elves set down their loads near the tree. Wasn’t she supposed to be a nice lady who loved kids, the holiday season, and cookies?
“Thank you so much for helping. Stop by the cider booth later for one on me.” Her sickening sweet voice grated on his nerves.
The taller of the two guys grinned. “Cool. Thanks, Mrs. C.”
His partner nodded. “Yeah, thanks. Let us know if you need more help carrying stuff.”
“I will. Thanks again.” When the boys tromped off toward the same door they’d come in, she straightened the ribbons on the baskets and then faked being busy by straightening the wrappedgifts for each kid who shared a wish list or was brave enough to try.
Completely ignoring me.
Whatever.
Sven scratched at the elastic beneath his hat, ready for this day to be done so he could focus on wooing Christy. She hadn’t returned his call, not that he’d left a voicemail message or thought she would. The emotional overload and his handling of it had obviously scared the hell out of her, but last night’s reunion had been like waking up after dying. Their connection was still there, soul-deep and stronger than ever.
I know she felt it too.
The thundering footsteps and excited voices of a huge herd of kids and parents entering the gym put an end to his ruminating. A line formed, starting at the entrance to his makeshift cage and ending somewhere beyond the double doors. The elf positioned at the chain reached for the clip and raised her eyebrows at him.