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“It’s her!” She hopped off the kitchen stool.
“Pick it up,” I urged.
She slid her finger across the screen and smiled from ear to ear. “Hi, Mommy.”
I watched as she scurried off to the bean bags by the window and sank into one of them; her face was radiant with a smile wider than I’d seen it all day. She loved her parents so much. If life could pause and remove the stress and pressures, growing up wouldn't be so hard. I grew up fast, but I had no choice. At the time I needed my parents’ love and support most, I couldn’t find it.
And what I needed now was a stronger drink.
CHAPTER 10
JAMES
Iremoved my Santa costume in a hurry and stepped into the shower for a quick rinse. My tux for the evening hung, crisp, in the closet. I put on a fresh shirt and flicked on the television. Airlines had canceled all flights, so Tiff wouldn’t show. Thank god. The woman clawed her way into my life a decade ago when Silver Securities updated its interior design. We worked great in the beginning… Until we didn't. I adjusted the bowtie and smiled to myself: tonight was all about Laura.
I found her at the bar, holding a drink. The low-cut dress showed off her ample cleavage, while the short hemline revealed her toned thighs and evoked an immediate sin in my mind. She crossed one leg over the other, covering the appetizer I couldn’t stop thinking about.
Julia left Laura's side, and I walked over to the bar.
“A martini, shaken, not stirred.”
She slowly spun around to face me, holding back a chuckle.
“You’re sitting underneath a mistletoe, Ms. Young,” I chuckled as I brandished the festive sprig of greenery I had stolen from the lobby. Obeying an instinctive impulse, I swooped down to capture her mouth in a kiss before she could react. Her lips were warm and pliant beneath mine, tasting like need and rich alcoholic beverages. I pulled away with reluctance.
“The mistletoe in my hair is no longer enough? You know, you don’t need an excuse to kiss me.”
“That’s good to know.” I lowered my mouth to hers again for another smooch and asked against her mouth. “How are you feeling?”
“I have a lot of feelings today, but I know I’m not drunk.”
“Good girl.”
She shivered. “You clean up well, Santa.”
She lowered her hand to my chest and circled her palm over the fabric of my tux.“Wow. That’s…snug.” Then she grabbed my pectoral muscle and gave it a playful squeeze.
My eyebrows flew up. “Are you okay?”
She hopped off the chair and almost stumbled. I held her steady by her elbow.
“Yes, sorry... You’re a hot Santa and an even hotter taxman,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
“Taxman?”
“Tuxedo, tax-man.”
Oh, no.
“How many of those have you had?” I pointed to the glass with the melting ice cubes inside.
“It’s not my fault. Your family just loves eggnog—especially the kind with rum.”
“And how many eggnogs with rum did you have?”
She showed half-an inch distance between her fingers and whispered, “I think a bit too many. Shh!”
Her forefinger pressed to the middle of my lips, squishing my mouth. I captured her hand in mine and kissed it. “My family has ruined you, Ms. Young.”
