Page 30 of Not Another Christmas Movie

“You need me to fill in as Santa Claus?” Nick asked, like he had been fully expecting this twist.

“Yes!” Noelle cried. “You’re our only hope!”

“Nick’s the only hope? What about all those older dudes over there?” Annie said, gesturing to a group of older men who were double-fisting doughnuts decorated with red and green sprinkles and holding steaming cups of what Annie could only sadly assume was hot chocolate.

“We need Nick,” Noelle said resolutely.

“Sure, makes perfect sense. Okay, Nick, have a blast cosplaying Santa. I’ll see you when you’re done,” Annie said, patting Nick’s back and stepping toward the doughnut table, ready to fill her own two hands with whatever sugary concoctions were available.

“Not so fast, young lady,” Noelle said.

“Who, me?” Annie asked innocently, still slowly creeping closer to the food and beverage station.

“Yes, you. I certainly can’t play Mrs. Claus now; that wouldn’t be appropriate. We’ll need you to take on that role.”

“Wait, huh?” Annie asked, her mouth stuck in an open, shocked expression.

“You heard her, you’re going to be my Mrs. Claus,” Nick said rather smugly.

“I’m sorry, are you happy about this?” Annie snapped to Nick. “Why on earth am I needed? No one is here for Mrs. Claus. Let’s let Nick be the star of this show—” But Noelle cut her off and steered her and Nick toward the small equipment shed.

“The costumes are hanging inside on hooks. Get a move on changing, would you? The kids will be arriving any moment!” Noelle gushed before retreating to Felix.

“Nick,” Annie said. “We don’t have to actually do this, right? This is way out of my comfort zone here. Noelle must be joking; there’s no way I’m necessary to this whole thing.”

“C’mon, Annie, it could be fun. Plus, I want to see what you look like as an old woman!” Nick said, grabbing the costume bag marked “Santa” and gently handing her the one marked “Mrs. Claus.” “Pretend it’s a Halloween costume?”

“Imagine doing a walk of shame dressed as a hungover Mrs. Claus,” Annie said.

“See, that can be something you can aspire to,” Nick said, heading to a small stall inside the shed. “I’ll go in there and you can change out here. Let me know when you’re done and I’ll come out, or like, zip you up or whatever.” Nick let the stall door close, and Annie let out a groan. She angrily unzipped the bag and pulled out the heavy red velvet dress cuffed with white fur. Upon first glance, she had to admit, it was nicer than she had expected. Huh, maybe I’ll be a hot Mrs. Claus, Annie thought hopefully. Perhaps I’ll be the best “ho-ho ho” in town. When Nick stepped out of his stall, Annie shrieked in amusement.

“Oh. My. Gosh. You look like Felix! Like Santa!” Annie marveled, walking closer to Nick and tugging on his white beard. “It’s so soft! Like a wolf.”

Annie stepped back to further inspect Nick’s costume. She had another unusual flush of feeling aroused by Nick in his red velvet pants and black suspenders until she reminded herself that being attracted to Santa in clothes that Felix last wore went against all laws of nature. But Nick looked good. Really good. Like, hold the “o” in good for longer than necessary, gooood. He was still wearing a basic white T-shirt, his look awaiting the big, signature jacket, and his face was mostly covered by a white beard and a pair of glasses. “I like you in glasses,” Annie said, her voice a bit huskier than she intended. She cleared her throat. “I mean, you look good in glasses,” she said, trying to cover her obvious drooling.

“And you look … pretty. Like, so pretty,” Nick told her honestly.

“Good thing you can’t get hard here,” Annie joked, finger gunning toward his crotch. She instantly regretted it. Nick’s eyes widened. “I mean, because I’m an old lady, and that would be weird—” Annie stammered.

“Yeah, that’s the weird part,” Nick cracked a smile. Annie let out a relieved breath, hoping to quickly move past her awkwardness.

From what she could tell, the Mrs. Claus dress was surprisingly flattering. The tailored bodice hugged her curves, the skirt flowed out, and although it was toasty, it didn’t feel unbearably heavy. The costume included a small pair of spectacles and a white wig of curly hair, complete with a red bonnet on the top. The neckline of her dress was flattering and showcased her collarbone in an almost, dare she say, mildly sensual fashion. Lastly, Annie had a small cape covering her shoulders, and all in all, she didn’t hate the look.

“Do you need help buttoning that?” Nick asked, voice gruff and low. It was painfully sexy, sounding like it could bruise her if it wanted to, and Annie thought she might beg it to.

“Yes, thank you, I can’t reach,” Annie admitted. Her heart quickened as Nick stepped closer, and her breath hitched when his fingers found the line of buttons, beginning to work the first one. They moved with such precision and power her brain couldn’t help imagine what else those fingers could do to her body, her thighs already squeezing together at the thought. Annie tried to block it out, but as Nick moved up the dress, she found herself desperate for him to fist her hair with one hand and rip the dress off her with the other, pressing himself firmly behind her so her own hands could reach back to explore everything under his Santa pants until he was panting her name with each stroke—

Wow. She had to get herself under control and get back on track. This event was an opportunity to connect with Chris, not Nick. She was supposed to be game-planning how to almost kiss him, not daydreaming about getting railed by Santa in a supply shed.

As he was finishing fastening the last thick black button, Annie turned back, facing Nick again, who was standing tall, eyes locked on her. Their heads were only inches apart now, and Annie could feel Nick’s candy cane breath. It made all the hairs on the back of her neck stand erect, and Annie could feel her pulse racing. Her body clearly had a plan immune to anything rational, and she was sure Nick could read every dirty idea that Annie was trying to hide. When a breath skimmed her lips, she had to restrain herself from backing him against the wall and grinding her body against his, desperate for the heat and friction. Annie didn’t want to just kiss Nick, she wanted to devour him. But before she could move, the shed door banged open with a thud, shattering the moment.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Noelle tutted with the smallest hint of mischief in her voice. “Let’s get going, kids. We need you out there ASAP. Why aren’t you wearing your skates?” Noelle scolded.

“What’s that?” Annie asked; she was sure the record-scratching sound from her head was loud enough to be heard all the way to the real North Pole, instantly killing the lustful desires still heating her skin.

“Your skates,” Noelle explained. “We have Santa’s chair already placed on the ice.”