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I listen as she talks about regrets and mistakes. When she’s got it all out of her system, and seems to feel better, she asks, “What are you going to do about Kane?”
Ugh. “I don’t know. He told me he thinks he loves me.”
My mother’s face brightens. “That’s wonderful, dear. He’d be an idiot not to love you.”
“I’m sorry for giving you a hard time about the three-week thing, because that’s exactly what I’ve done.”
“Irony at its finest,” she says.
I give her another hug. “What a mess we are.”
After the hug, I rush off to do my duties as Santa’s little helper.
I don’t know what I’m going to say to Kane. All I know is I need to tell him something.
Eight
KANE
There are a few things one needs to know to play Santa successfully.
Always laugh and make sure your fake belly shakes while doing it.
Never promise a kid anything.
And never hook up with an elf and then tell them you might love them.
When I told Winter I might be falling for her, I wasn’t lying. The only thing I messed up on was saying I might. Because I know now, I’m one hundred percent in love with her. What I’m not in love with is the reaction she gave me when I said the words to her.
I half-expected, ok, fully expected her to leap into my arms and say the words right back to me. I definitely didn’t expect her to run from the cabin like it was on fire and I was the arsonist.
Someone places another kid on my lap, who tells me about wanting a new game. I’m barely listening to him because Winter has entered the room and stolen all my attention.
I can barely breathe, and I try not to make an idiot out of myself by standing and rushing over there to kiss her. That would be bad.
That would be a big Santa no-no.
“And I want a Superman action figure, and a basketball, and some skates.”
Little man keeps going with his wish list, and I pull my gaze from Winter, who is doing a great job of ignoring me, and focus on the brown-eyed boy on my lap.
“If you’re a good boy, Santa might help you with a few things on your list. Just be sure to tell your parents.” I don’t want the kid to hate Santa forever because he didn’t tell his parents what he wanted, and it never showed up.
Winter saunters over, helping him off my lap and handing him a book before he trots over to his mother.
I smile up at Winter, and she smiles back.
Phew. That’s the first step.
I knew when I told her last night I loved her, I was most likely making a mistake. First, who falls in love this quickly? And second, why did I say I think I might?
I should have just said I love you. Plain and simple. I love you and we can have a glorious future together.
Have my babies.
But I couldn’t go all psycho stalker on her. We’ve known each other for five minutes, and besides, our parents are married.
I still can’t believe this is my reality right now.
Winter assists a little girl with blonde curls onto my lap, and I smile, waiting to hear her requests.
“Hi, Santa,” she whispers.
“Hello there,” I say back. “What do you want for Christmas?”
“There’s nothing I really want.” She stares up at me. “What do you want, Santa? I bet no one ever asks you that question.”
My eyes meet Winter’s. “Well, what I want is a little complicated.”
“But you’re Santa. You can give yourself anything you want.”
I smile at Winter, my eyes still trained on hers. “You’re right. I can, but I’m not sure if my elf wants me to have it.” I nod toward Winter.
Winter’s cheeks turn pink. “Well, maybe Santa needs to remember it’s not only about him and what he wants.”
Her answer confuses me. “What’s it about then?”
The little girl interrupts, petting my fluffy white beard with her hand. “It shouldn’t matter. It’s Christmas and the only thing that matters on Christmas is getting what you wished for.”
I tap her nose. “You’re right. And hopefully Santa has been a good enough boy to have my wish come true.”
This makes the girl give me a gap-toothed smile, and she hops off my lap.
Winter hands her a book and comes back to stand next to me.
“I think Santa doesn’t really know what he wants.” She walks away, heading toward the back room.
I rise from my velvet throne and wave to the kids in line. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I need to check on my reindeer.”
The children wave back, full of glee, laughing and chatting about Rudolph.
My shiny black boots rush after Winter. “I want you. I know I do. You’re what I want,” I say as soon as I open the door.
