Page 23 of Sexy Claus
Technically, he should ask her for permission, but they’d gone beyond a simple lip-lock last night—and it had shaken him awake. If he didn’t do his damnedest to resurrect their relationship, regrets would dog him for the rest of his life.
She stopped, stiff-spined and tense-jawed, at the arbor outside the roped-off area and pivoted toward the woman with the camera. Her hands were clutched in front of her. She might not know for sure that he’d recognized her, but she knew for sure he was playing Santa today.
As soon as he stood beside her, the photographer motioned for them to move toward the center. “You need to squeeze close together inside the arch. Back just a little farther. Angle in a bit, but not quite face to face. Right there. Santa, hold Mrs. Claus’s hands in yours. Now look at each other with that magic Christmas sparkle in your eyes. Smiles. Perfect. Don’t move.”
A familiar electrical current charged through him with the first contact and amped up when she finally looked at him. The surrounding noise faded away and only the two of them existed. Unable to resist, he caressed her cheek and leaned in. A tentative brush of his lips against her softer ones became a gentle caress and then a firm press when she whimpered loud enough for only him to hear. Her lips parted, inviting him inside, and he didn’t hesitate to take their kiss to the next level with a slow stroke of his tongue.
At the clearing of a throat, he reluctantly eased back, taking in the undeniable desire in her stare. The beginnings of fear started to show through the lusty haze, urging him into action. “I love you, Christy. Please stay. Marry me.”
CHAPTER NINE
Sven’sbushy white eyebrows dipped low and his beard-framed mouth flattened into a thin line. “I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you to stay and I’m not changing my mind about the marriage proposal, so say you’ll think about it. Or you could just say yes.”
Every cell in Christy’s body ceased functioning for what seemed like an eternity. Despite the warmth of his skin around her fingers, she seemed to have lost all feeling. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move—except her knees, which decided to give out.
“You need to breathe.”
When she couldn’t force out a response, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the chair he’d used during the visit-with-Santa segment. He sat, still cradling her to his chest and looking like he was contemplating a call to the on-site emergency crew.
She finally managed to suck in a slow breath. “I—”
“Do I need to alert the EMTs? Is she okay?” Brenna’s concerned voice cut through the weird buzzing in Christy’s ears. “What happened?”
His slightly rosy cheeks grew redder. “She was feeling woozy. Can you have somebody get her something to drink?”
The photographer reached past Brenna in her wheelchair, holding out a bottled water. “They started kissing under the mistletoe while I was taking pictures and then she looked like she was going to faint.”
“You werekissing?” His daughter’s half whispered question rose an octave with every word.
Sven grabbed the bottle and twisted off the cap. “Here. Take a few sips.”
The worry in his eyes faded a little as she drank two swallows, but the shock inspired by his unexpected request lingered in her confused brain.
Brenna rolled closer and spoke low enough not to be overheard by the crowd still gathered in the gym. “Are you planning to answer my question? Not that I have a problem with it. I’d just kind of like to know if you’re dating my OT.”
He capped the bottle without looking at his daughter. His gaze seemed permanently locked on hers, setting off that lightheaded feeling again. “I’ll date her if I have to, but I’d rather marry her. Maybe you could put in a good word for me since she likes you, Bee?”
“Wha— Oh my god. Of course!” Brenna sounded more excited than any of the kids who’d sat on Santa’s lap. “Christy, listen to me. I know he’s a little grumpy sometimes, but I promise he’s loyal and kind and reliable and he loves with his whole heart.”
The fake beard wiggled, as did his hat, when he shook his head. “I’m not a dog.”
“Hush, Dad. I’m not finished. Now, where was I?” His daughter frowned for a moment before forging ahead. “Oh yeah. And you must be incredibly special to him, because he’s neverasked anybody to marry him before. I don’t think he’s even been on a date in years. Or maybe my entire life.”
Christy didn’t believe the last speculation, but the fact that Brenna hadn’t met any of his dates meant something.
“Oh, something else. My dad is definitely not a love-at-first-sight kind of person, which means the two of you have a history—probably from when you lived here. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you’ve known each other since kindergarten and were high school sweethearts. You might not have grown up in the digital age, but information is pretty easy to find on the internet if you know where to look.” A smug grin created a pair of shallow but visible dimples in the young woman’s cheeks. “Am I right?”
Sven grunted, clearly unwilling to confirm her guesses with an outright yes.
“And, Dad, did you actuallyaskChristy to marry you? Or did you do that thing where you make it sound like an exasperated command? A ring would probably make your proposal more sincere too. I’m going to check in with the ticket committee. Text me when you’re officially engaged.” Brenna wheeled away, evidently finished with her insightful guesses and unsolicited advice.
He tightened his hold around Christy’s waist and sighed. “I swear she’s a bigger know-it-all now than she ever was as a teenager. Sadly, she’s also almost always right. I should’ve asked you instead of sounding desperate and bossy. Do you mind if we get out of here so we can have a little privacy?”
Hope tried to take root again, but she smothered it. If she told him the secret that had sent her fleeing years ago, maybe he would understand why she wasn’t cut out for relationships.
The seaof Creekside residents parted as Sven escorted Christy to the gymnasium’s double doors. Their smirks and winks told him word of the very public mistletoe kiss and Mrs. Claus’s subsequent swooning had spread like wildfire.
He tangled his fingers with hers to keep her from making a break for the teachers’ lounge or the parking lot without him. Carrying her had been his first choice, but she probably would’ve strangled him if he’d tried. Thankfully, his hard-on from holding her on his lap hid behind the hem of his fur-trimmed red coat.