Page 2 of The Naughty List Agreement

Nick glanced up to see Jack Frost leaning indolently against the frame of the portal gateway. His friend’s sudden arrival was a result of the immediate travel that was possible between the North Pole and all of the realms, thanks to the portal.

His best friend was slim and taller than Nick by a few inches. He was rarely seen in anything but bespoke suits, and the state of his hair, which was usually styled, suggested he’d stepped out of a windstorm.

“I wanted to have, at least, an updated profile finished before the meeting.”

“Let me see it.”

Turning his laptop toward Jack, Nick waited.

“‘CEO of a family-owned seasonal business.’ That’s good.”

“Yeah? Figured it got the job done without being obvious.”

“It works. This bit’s not bad: ‘Likes quiet, romantic evenings in front of the fire and long walks in snowy forests.’ But, ‘must love ice hockey?’”

“I can’t spend eternity with someone who doesn’t love the game,” Nick said.

“Fair enough.”

When Jack laughed, Nick knew he was reading the bit about Nick, age ten, getting stuck in a chimney when he was pretending to be Santa. Everyone thought that was a good one.

“You were pathetic when you were trapped in there.”

“You dared me to do it,” Nick said. But the memory was a good one, eliciting a laugh from Nick as he remembered the look on his dad’s face when he’d fished him out.

“Surely someone will click on my profile.”

“Maybe if you weren’t wearing that sweater?”

“What’s wrong? It’s my favorite.”

Jack eyed him. “Let’s get Martha in here. We need a woman’s opinion.”

Nick called Martha, who joined them.

“Mm,” Martha said. “I recommended something more lumbersexual than whatever that is.”

“What even is lumbersexual?”

“Jeans and a plaid shirt,” Jack said. “I think that will work. Go get changed.”

“The Legendaries are due⁠—”

“They’ll understand,” Martha assured him.

Jack just smirked.

Grumbling, he went into his bedroom and changed into his favorite jeans. The denim was worn and showed off his ass perfectly. He added a red and black flannel shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal his tattoos. His hair, mustache, and neatly trimmed beard were still chestnut brown—it was only on Christmas Eve that they turned white, and his belly grew big so he could become the image of every child’s storybook Santa Claus.

When he walked back into his office, Jack nodded then glanced at Martha. “Better, right?”

“Definitely. Now you’re hot Santa,” she said.

“Words I never want to hear again,” Nick muttered, but he posed so Jack could take a photo of him.

Jack handed the phone back to Nick. That’s actually … not bad.

As Martha uploaded the photo to his dating profile, Nick noticed that she had … “edited” the text while he was changing, making him sound more enthusiastic about trying new things than he was.