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I broke away from staring at a new self-portrait, and found Santa in jeans and a colorful sweater. Reindeer danced across his chest. His bald head gleamed.
“I love this look.” I bit my lip. “You have a whole collection of holiday sweaters, don’t you?”
His flushed cheeks told me all I needed to know.
“Of course,” I added. “You won’t be wearing clothes for much longer.” I grinned. “I hear naked dining is a thing.”
He chuckled. “Not in this house.”
I pointed to the portrait. “This is new.” He nodded. I studied it again. “It might be my imagination, but you look a little sad.”
“That’s because I was. I’d been thinking about you all that day. I guess a little of my melancholy crept into the painting.”
My chest tightened. “I don’t want you to feel sad.” I hated the thought of him here, alone… thinking of me and being unable to reach me.
“It was about a month after your visit—by your calendar, of course. I started a new painting because I thought it would take my mind off you.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Some hope.”
The idea zinged into my head and I didn’t hesitate. “Would you paint me one day?”
He stared at me. “As if we don’t already have so much to squeeze into what little time we have together?” He sighed. “I’m sorry. That sounded bitter. So before I utter words I’ll regret, there’s something I’d like to show you.” He led me through the house to the back door, and we stepped out into the warm sunshine. I was standing in a garden, where there was row upon row of beds, each with greenery bursting forth from the dark earth. I spied trees from which hung apples, cherries, pears… Raspberry plants climbed slender canes, and lower down sat fat cabbages and cauliflowers.
“This is awesome. What else do you grow?”
“It’s easier to ask what Idon’tgrow. There are carrots, beans, peas, potatoes, radishes, onions, garlic…” He let out a contented sigh. “I love spending time here. It calms me. Makes me feel good. However, magic does play a small part. My fruit and vegetables grow all year round. When they’re ready to be harvested, they stay ready until I pick them. And then I start planting again.”
“I have a confession.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do tell.”
“The night I met you? When you ate my mom’s cookies? I… I didn’t know you could eat. I thought you just… spirited away the cookies and milk so people would feel good.”
He laughed. “I may be a magical being, but even magical beings need to eat.” He held out his hand once more. I took it, and we went back inside.
“I love that you do that,” I said as he closed the door and led me along the hallway. He gave me an inquiring glance. “You hold my hand.”
“Hands are made to hold and be held,” he said quietly. Then he smiled. “They’re also made to touch, caress…” He stopped at a warm red door. “I didn’t get the chance to show you this last time.” He pushed it open, and we stepped into a light airy room, the focus of which was a bed.
A very wide bed.
Oh dearGod, the images that went through my mind.
I forced a chuckle. “Do you need one that size? You must really move around a lot when you sleep.” That earlier fever was back, urging me to forget taking my time, that we both needed to be naked,right now.
“The bed is new. I got it just for us.”
“So, Santa does sleep?”
“Of course I do.” His gaze met mine. “That’s when I dream of you.”
My throat tightened. “I dream of you too.” And without a word we were in each other’s arms again, our lips locked, each kiss growing more heated as we removed our clothing garment by garment, until we were naked.
The dull thud when my pants hit the wooden floor reminded me. I released him, grabbed them, and fished my phone out of my pocket. “About that speaker…”
He clicked his fingers, and a blue cylindrical speaker stood on the nightstand. I connected to it, and hit Play. The first of the mellow tracks I’d saved poured into the room.
He smiled. “That’s perfect.”
I put my phone down next to the speaker. “I have over three hours of perfect.”
