Page 89 of Sleigh My Heart

That was Russ for you. And only he could make that statement and not have her cop meter peg the perv bar.

Santa wound through the crowd that lined up the sides of the lane. As he got closer, Michelle got a good look at the new Santa. Her eyes bulged. Nick?

No. She squinted at the man. A chuckle slipped from her lips. It was. Nick Jolley drove the sleigh in full Santa gear. Ho ho ho-ing his heart out. She never thought she’d see the day.

Ava tugged on her sleeve and winked. “That’s my dad, don’t tell anyone. It’s a family secret.”

Her little fingers linked with Michelle’s as she pulled her closer to the village.

It felt right, Ava’s little hand in hers. She pushed back the sting of tears as they walked closer to Nick. She didn’t know where their relationship was going, but when the festival was over, they needed to talk. Their timing was wrong twenty years ago, but now? She was still a cop, and the terror on his face when he cradled her on the floor of that club was locked in her mind. It was his nightmare come true. He never made a secret of his fear of her job, especially with his mother dying in the line of duty. She didn’t know if the incident this week wiped them away or solidified them.

As the first child climbed on his lap, Michelle’s heart swelled. He was a natural. The way his face lit and his cheeks formed perfect crinkles around his eyes. He was born to play this role.

She was transfixed as one child after another took their turn in Santa’s lap. A tightness coiled in her chest. Jealousy? No. Pride.

Rapid blinks held back her emotions. If anyone noticed, she could blame it on the dull ache in her arm. It was time for her next dose of pain medication.

As she turned toward the exit, Ava squeezed her hand. “It’s your turn.”

“What?” She stared at her blue eyes, so similar to Nick’s.

“He’s flagging you up.”

She turned back to the man himself. Sure enough. He winked at her and crooked a finger.

“Go.”

She shook her head. “I, no, this is for children.”

Little hands pushed at her back. “Please, just go up there.”

Man, who would have thought she could be bossed around by an eight-year-old? “Okay, okay.”

Michelle barely noticed the helper elves or the huge candy canes that flanked Santa’s chair as she made her way to the stage. She missed the garland completely until she tripped on it. Oh no! The ground was coming up fast.

In the blink of an eye, strong arms broke her fall. Her cheek landed on soft, red fabric. A choir of laughter echoed around her, but she didn’t care. Nick was holding her.

“Easy does it. Are you okay?” Worry crossed his face. What she could see of it behind the white curls.

“No, I’m good.” Heat flooded her face. “I like the beard.”

One bushy brow rose. “Maybe I’ll wear it for you later.”

A girl could only hope.

“Come here.” He led her to the chair and gingerly positioned her on his lap, careful not to jostle her injured arm. “Tell me what you want for Christmas.”

She locked eyes with him. What did she want? Him. And his daughter and their crazy pets. She wanted them all, but could she tell him? Here, in front of the whole town? “I, uh. I’m not sure.”

His gaze never wavered.

She could do this. She inhaled and centered her thoughts, but still didn’t speak.

“Tell you what, why don’t I tell you what I want for Christmas?”

Her heart thumped at his words. “Um, okay.”

He ran a hand lightly down her uninjured arm and locked fingers with hers. “I want you. Always.”