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Then again, I always wonder how Jeannie landed my stepfather because my mom’s not exactly a beauty queen, while my stepdad is really handsome. Brody’s maybe about forty-five, with night-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and the physique of an Olympian. He could pass for a Greek god, and it’s because he works out a lot. Every morning, Brody hits the gym, and I’ve been the lucky lady to see him with his shirt off when he gets back, hot, sweaty, and oh so delicious.
But how can I even be having these thoughts? First, the older man is totally out of my league. He wouldn’t be interested in a nineteen year old girl who’s nerdy with frizzy brown hair and a little too much junk in the trunk. He probably has all sorts of sexy divorcees pounding on his door, hoping for some time in his bed.
Even more, this man used to be married to my mom, so I absolutely have to stop thinking these thoughts. It’s just so wrong, and I can’t believe that they’ve even popped up in my head. As a result, I force myself to smile winsomely in his direction, but the handsome man frowns as if remembering something.
“Oh shit,” he curses. “Are you free tomorrow morning? Like early, early?”
I stare at him.
“I guess. Why?”
He clears his throat, looking torn. “Well, you know that I’m a professional photographer, right?”
“Yes, it’s been your job for the last decade, Brody” I deadpan. “But why?”
My stepfather nods before slapping a palm to his forehead.
“Because shit, I’m supposed to be at the mall tomorrow morning to take Santa photos. But my usual elf, Clarissa, told me she couldn’t make it this year and I completely forgot. Can you substitute for her? It’s easy, honey. Basically, you just have to put on an elf costume and press the remote to operate the camera.”
I nod.
“Oh, sure,” is my slow reply. “I don’t mind helping you out. I love Christmas, I love kids, and I love Santa,” I add. “But who’s going to be Santa?”
Brody shoots me a wry look.
“Actually, it’s me. Real Santas are in short supply this year, so you’re looking at him.”
My brow creases.
“But aren’t you the one taking the photos?”
He shakes his head.
“Nope. You are. I’ll be there with the kids in my lap, and then you just have to press a button. The remote’s connected to the camera, and it’s easy, I promise. Besides, I’ll prep everything beforehand so you won’t have to touch any dials or anything.”
I nod dubiously.
“Oh okay. But I mean, are you sure you can play Santa?”
Brody shoots me an amused look.
“Why, what do you mean?”
I take a deep breath, surveying his muscular, athletic form.
“Well, it’s just that Santa’s kind of rotund with a big gut, right? And a red face? You don’t look like that at all, Brody.”
The older man chuckles, the sound deep and attractive. “Thanks honey, but it’s not a problem because first, the kids don’t really know or care. They just see the big white beard and red suit and begin to squeal with excitement.”
“Oh, I guess that’s true,” I murmur. “Makes sense.”
He grins.
“Yeah, and besides, with a white beard and a pillow stuffed under my Santa suit, no one’s able to really see me anyways. I actually did this last year too, and there were no complaints.”
“That makes sense,” I nod dubiously. “Well sure, no problem then. I don’t mind helping, and I’m certain it’ll be fun.”
The handsome man chuckles.
