Christmas Destiny Part Four by Jannine Gallant

Teetering a little, Fritz stretched from the highest rung of the low step ladder to settle an angel atop the tree. Her gossamer wings caught the glow of the blinking lights in a kaleidoscope of color. Backing down again, he fisted his hands on his hips and smiled at Shay. “I’d say we did a terrific job.”

“The tree is beautiful.” Her voice caught. “Thanks for putting it up and nudging me into the Christmas spirit.” Folding the ladder, she set it aside then neatly stacked the empty ornament boxes.

“My pleasure.”

He sat on the couch facing the tree and picked up the coffee she’d doctored with a shot of Baileys. Maybe more than one shot. He was on his second cup, and a comfortable warmth encompassed him. He wasn’t sure if the alcohol in the drink, the roaring fire or the extremely fine woman who’d been giving him speculative looks all evening was responsible. Nor did he care.

“Come sit down.” He patted the leather cushion next to him.

Shay dropped onto the couch then lifted her own mug from the end table and held it between her palms. Silvery gray eyes regarded him with interest. “So, why did you have a Santa suit in your truck?” A smile curled her lips. “Did you misplace your sleigh, or have you got a hot date with an elf?”

He choked on his coffee. “The only date I have is with you—on Christmas Eve. Or so I’ve been told.” He grinned. “Whether or not it’s hot remains to be seen. As for the suit, I was going to play Santa for the kids at the party, so I picked one up on my way here. Bridget’s idea.”

“You’re a nice guy, Fritz.” She scooted a little closer until her knee touched his leg. “I’m beginning to think your sister’s suggestion was an excellent one.”

His brows shot up. “What, you have a thing for men in red velvet?”

Her laughter rang through the room. “Not that suggestion, but the right man might be able to pull it off.” She edged even closer. Taking his mug, she set both cups back on the table. “I’ve never dated a man who wears velvet.”

The warmth inside him erupted into a blaze as she leaned into him. Not that he was complaining. He slipped an arm around her waist. When her breath caressed his cheek, his control snapped. Burying one hand in her hair, he tilted her chin with the other. Their lips met in an incendiary kiss.

Dampness touched his face. With an effort, he fought the urge to push her down on the couch and reluctantly pulled away. A tearful gaze met his.

“Are you crying?”

She wiped a hand across her eyes and sniffed. “No.”

The blatant lie would have made him smile—if he hadn’t been feeling lower than pond scum. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She put a good foot of leather between. “This was all my fault.” A harsh breath slipped out. “Maybe some of it was your sister’s fault since it was her idea.”

He frowned as the fire crackled and snapped in the quiet room. “I don’t get it.”

The expression in her eyes held pure misery when she turned his way. “I caught my boyfriend—make that ex-boyfriend—in bed with another woman a few days ago.”

He stiffened. “I’m happy to beat the crap out of him for you. Just tell me where he lives.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, but he isn’t worth your skinned knuckles.”

“Uh, is this guy the Vance Bridget referred to?”

Shay nodded.

“And the payback my sister mentioned would be…”

“You.”

The clock ticked then chimed ten times.

“I take it you changed your mind?”

A few more tears slid down her cheeks. “I like you too much to do that to you.”

His face heated. “Uh, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have complained. I’ve never actually been involved in payback sex, but it sounds—”

“Petty and childish? Stupid and hurtful? Not exactly what the Christmas spirit of giving is all about?”

“Maybe not precisely what I was thinking, but sure.”

She stared at the tree and scowled. “Want to know why I’m spending Christmas alone?”

“I did wonder.”

“My family planned a trip to Hawaii, Kauai to be precise.”

“Hey, that’s my old home turf.” His voice brightened. “Sand and surf instead of a blizzard.”

“Kind of ironic, don’t you think? We could have met on a beach. Instead, we ran into each other in the snow-filled woods.”

“We were fated to meet.” He smiled. “Our Christmas destiny.”

“Seems that way.” She smiled back. “Anyway, I bailed out of the trip at the last minute because I thought Vance was going to propose. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

He slid halfway across the empty space between them and covered her clenched fist with his hand. “I’m really sorry you were hurt.”

“So am I.” She turned her hand over and squeezed his fingers. “You know what?”

“What?”

“Meeting you made me realize I deserve better. Vance always put his own needs first. No way in hell would he have done something as selfless as dressing like Santa Claus for a bunch of kids.”

“I’ll admit the idea didn’t thrill me at first…”

“But you were going to do it anyway.”

“I still will if I can get the dirty tire prints off the jacket.”

She smiled. “That’s what I’m talking about. You’re nice. I want nice.”

He slid closer and pulled her against his shoulder. Her thick auburn hair caressed his chin. They sat in silence as the clock ticked away the minutes.

“Did Bridget tell you I’m not going back to Hawaii? That I’m thinking about settling down somewhere around here? I write middle school adventure books for kids. I can pretty much do it wherever I want.”

“Why would you leave your tropical paradise if you enjoy it so much?”

He let out a breath. “I needed a complete change after my fiancée got cold feet and left me standing at the altar a couple of months ago.”

Her head jerked around as she met his gaze. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope. Maybe my sister figured a little revenge sex would be good for me, too.”

“Oh my God, we’re quite a pair.”

He tightened his arm around her. “I’d say we’re a pretty good match.” He tilted her chin to look into eyes that held far less pain than they had only minutes before. “Shay?”

“What?”

“Let’s forget about payback sex, at least for now. Let’s start with a date on Christmas Eve and see where it leads.”

She nodded. “I like that idea. I like it a lot.”

“After all, the holiday season is about new beginnings.” He dropped a light kiss on her lips then smiled.

       Her breath caught. “No reason we can’t both start over—together.”

I hope you enjoyed my contribution to The Santa Suit Chronicles. Have a merry Christmas!

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Christmas Destiny Part Three by Jannine Gallant

Shay’s stomach did a little flip when a soft knock sounded at the door. Fritz? Had he changed his mind about hanging out for a while? She hoped so. Her friend’s brother was unbelievably handsome and sweet and…a bunch of other adjectives she had no business imagining after knowing the man for less than an hour. She set down the cup of cider she’d just poured then ran a hand through hair flattened by her knit hat. Walking across the cabin, she pulled open the door. The bells on the wreath adorning it jingled.

Halleluiah. He’s back! “Couldn’t resist the thought of Christmas cookies?”

His smile was tentative. Doubt shadowed eyes the color of a deep alpine lake. “Slight problem.”

“Oh?” She motioned him inside then shut the door behind him.

“A tree fell across the road about a quarter mile from here. If I hadn’t learned my lesson about driving in a whiteout, I’d be picking pine needles out of my teeth right now.”

Her breath caught. “Are you okay?”

“Seeing that monster crash down in front of me might have scared a few years off my life, but otherwise I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “The road’s blocked.”

“I’ll call to report it. I’m sure they’ll send a crew out to clear it away. Sit.” She pointed to a stool at the bar counter separating the living area from the kitchen. “I’ll pour you some cider.”

Minutes later Shay hung up the phone. Her stomach, along with other parts, did a few more gymnastic moves as she turned to face him. “Apparently that wasn’t the only tree the wind took out this evening, and since this isn’t a high-traffic road…” She gave a little shrug.

“They aren’t in any rush to get here.” His lips firmed. “I was afraid of that.”

“Sometime tomorrow was their best estimate.”

“If I borrow your skis…”

“You’d end up getting lost in the dark and freeze to death.” She let out a slow breath. “You’ll stay here tonight.”

Those blue eyes warmed. “You’re comfortable with that?”

He was Bridget’s brother. He seemed like a good guy. She wasn’t worried Fritz would turn into a sex-crazed lunatic at the sight of her dressed for bed in a pair of flannel pajamas. Her only concern was whether or not she could resist him. He’d taken off his jacket while she was on the phone. A thermal, waffle-knit shirt stretched across an impressive chest. Her imagination was working overtime picturing the muscles molded beneath the soft fabric.

Shay licked dry lips. In short, she wasn’t the least bit comfortable.

“Of course I’m comfortable. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

“Thanks.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, the only sound the ticking of the mantle clock above the crackling fire.

She tore her gaze away. “Um, I should bring in more wood then start dinner.”

“I’ll carry in a supply.” He reached for his jacket, draped over a second stool.

“Thanks. The wood is stacked along the side of the house.”

After shrugging on his coat, he glanced around. “I like your home. Cozy.”

“It’s small, but then I don’t need a lot of space. I’m afraid I don’t have a guest bedroom.”

“No problem. I’ll sleep on the couch.” He nodded toward open boxes of ornaments left in an empty corner of the room. “You don’t have a tree.”

“I might go cut one tomorrow, though it seems kind of pointless with just me to enjoy it since I’ll be alone for the holiday. I did put up the rest of my decorations.” She gave a half-hearted arm sweep toward the living room.

Pinecones, candles and cedar boughs graced the mantel on either side of the clock, crocheted snowflakes dangled from the front window frames, and a nativity scene covered a small end table beside the long, leather couch.

“A tree is mandatory…and you aren’t alone anymore.”

His expression warmed her to her toes and stayed with her while he hauled in logs and she heated the homemade minestrone soup she’d prepared the day before. When he went back outside after filling the wood box, Shay wondered why. She was tearing lettuce for a salad to go with the soup when he blew in with a swirl of snow, dragging the noble fir behind him.

With a grunt he settled it into the stand she’d left beside the ornaments. “Perfect size.”

“Fritz, you can’t! That tree is for your sister’s house.”

“Sure I can. They already have one in the living room. This one was for the family room, but I think Bridget can spare it.” He glanced over. “Which reminds me…I should call her. She’s probably wondering what happened to me. Do you mind if I use your land line. I don’t get any cell service out here.” His smile was self-deprecating. “I discovered that when I got the truck stuck.”

“Go for it.”

Shay tried not to listen to his conversation but couldn’t help herself when his cheeks took on a rosy hue.

“Uh, yeah, she is.” His gaze shot her way before he turned his back. “I’m not going to tell her…” His voice trailed off. “Fine. See you when they get the tree cleared.” He put the phone back in the cradle.

“Was Bridget worried?” Shay slid a loaf of crusty French bread into the oven to warm.

“Not really.” He snorted. “She sent you a message.”

“Oh?”

“She said to tell you that you should use this opportunity to pay Vance back in kind. Whatever the hell that means.”

Shay turned with a knife gripped in her hand. “Your sister said that?”

“Yep.”

She sliced through a tomato then chopped it into little pieces. “Not a bad idea. Not bad at all.”

“Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?”

She laid down the knife then smiled at him. The smile turned into a snort of laughter. “Your sister’s crazy, but if I work up the courage to follow her advice, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I will?”

       She nodded. “And if I do, this could be a Christmas neither one of us ever forgets.”

You've come this far... The conclusion of Christmas Destiny will be posted tomorrow!

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Christmas Destiny Part Two by Jannine Gallant

Fritz made an effort to close his sagging jaw. “I’m your date?”

The auburn haired beauty didn’t look crazy. Maybe the hints of silver he’d found so fascinating in her gray eyes masked a touch of lunacy.

“The name threw me at first. Your sister told me her brother Freddy was visiting for the holidays. Since I’m dateless for the Hoffman’s Christmas Eve bash ever since I dumped my boyfriend after I caught him…never mind.” Anger flashed in Shay’s silvery eyes. “Anyway, Bridget had the bright idea the four of us could go together to what will no doubt be the biggest social event of the season.”

“You know my sister?”

“Sure. We only live a few miles apart as the crow flies, which makes Bridget and Crosby my closest neighbors. They’re the friends I mentioned I was visiting.”

“Oh.” When a coyote howled somewhere in the gathering night, he cleared his throat. “Maybe we could continue this conversation in the truck.”

“Let me grab my skis.” After she’d laid her equipment in the back beside the tree, she climbed into the cab.

He flipped on the headlights and turned up the heater. “I assume I’m going in the right direction?”

“You are.” She leaned forward, nearly pressing her nose against the windshield. “Wow, the snow’s really accumulated since I set out. This might be a little tougher than I thought.”

“Oh, joy.”

She flashed a smile. “Hey, we’ll get there. My cabin isn’t too far from here, but it’s several miles past to your sister and brother-in-law’s place. I took a shortcut through the woods then detoured over when I heard you swearing up a bigger storm than the one raging outside.”

His cheeks colored as he glanced her way. “As we’ve established, I had an excellent reason.”

Her answer was preceded by a quiet laugh. “Yes, you did.”

The pickup bounced and skidded slightly as they climbed a short hill. He shifted into a lower gear and gripped the wheel tighter on the descent.

“No offense, but you suck at driving in the snow.”

“I live in Hawaii…or used to. Winter driving isn’t exactly a skill I’ve had a chance to acquire.”

“Bridget mentioned Freddy was in the middle of relocating. I have to admit I was a little nervous about this double date she insisted upon. She did say you were easy on the eyes. That wasn’t an exaggeration.”

He cast another quick glance in her direction before returning his attention to the poor excuse for a road. “Thanks, I think. My sister’s the only person on the planet who still calls me Freddy. I go by Fritz.”

“Fritz suits you better. Turn here.”

“Here, where? I don’t see—”

“Between those two fir trees. That’s my driveway.” She gripped the armrest as he made the turn. “Good grief, I need to get out the snow blower.”

He plowed down the narrow lane and pulled to a stop in front of a detached, single car garage. A small cabin made of split logs sat a short distance away, tucked up against the hillside. “I didn’t even notice your home when I drove past earlier.”

“It’s kind of hidden from the road.”

His hands dropped from the steering wheel. “It’s nice back here.”

She turned to face him. “Thanks for the ride. Um, do you want to come in, maybe have a cookie and some hot cider?”

At the hesitancy in her eyes, a slow heat started in his belly and coiled upward around his heart. Had her earlier confidence masked an underlying vulnerability?

“I’d like to, but I’m afraid I won’t make it out of your driveway if I wait to leave. As you pointed out, driving in the snow isn’t one of my strong suits, though I swear I do have a few.” He tossed her a quick smile.

She grinned back. “I’m sure when it comes to maneuvering a surfboard, you could give me lessons.”

A vision of Shay in a bikini fogged his brain. He was dead certain there were spectacular curves hidden beneath the slim-fitting jacket. “You find a wave, and I’ll teach you to ride it.” His voice held a husky undertone he covered with a cough.

Pull it together, moron. She invited you in for hot cider, not hot sex.

When she opened the car door, a blast of cold air swept into the cab. “I guess I’ll see you on Christmas Eve, then.”

“Tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it.”

She slid off the seat to land up to her knees in snow then turned to face him. “I enjoyed meeting you, Fritz.” Hesitating for a moment, she let out a breath. “Good night.”

The door shut before he could respond. He waited as she took her skis from the truck bed then waded through the snow to the front porch of the cabin. With a final wave, she slipped inside.

“Wow.”

He put the pickup in reverse, and with a few jerks, managed a three point turn to face back down the driveway. Why hadn’t his sister told him her neighbor was smoking hot? Before he’d set out in search of the perfect tree, she’d mentioned a friend was dropping by. Too bad she’d failed to add the friend was prettier than a Christmas angel.

Good God, I sound like the biggest dweeb on the planet.

Fritz rolled his eyes. The tires slid a little as he nosed the truck out onto the road then slowly picked up speed. Snow fell in heavy drifts with the headlights doing little to illuminate the winding track between a tunnel of evergreens as the wipers slapped furiously across the windshield. His grip on the wheel tightened. A huge gust of wind blew abreast of the pickup, shaking the vehicle and swirling around him in an opaque cloud of white. He let off the gas and slowed to a stop, waiting for his vision to clear.

“White Christmas my ass! Give me a palm tree and a beach any day.”

Groaning and creaking penetrated through the howling wind. He frowned. What the hell was that? It sounded like—

A sharp crack. A sudden whoosh as limbs and trunk plummeted across the road—landing inches from his front bumper.

“Holy mother of God.” His heart lodged in his throat, nearly suffocating him. If he’d rolled even a few feet farther, he’d have been flattened like a piece of wrapping paper.

With a shaking hand, Fritz put the truck in reverse and backed slowly down the road until finally, with an exhalation of pure relief, he reached Shay’s driveway.

        She’d offered him hot cider and a cookie before. He hoped the invitation was still open.

If you're enjoying my story, stop by tomorrow for Part Three of Christmas Destiny!

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Christmas Destiny Part One by Jannine Gallant

She’d never seen a Santa suit used in quite that way. Red velvet trimmed in white flowed out from beneath the rear end of the four-wheel-drive pickup stuck in the snow miles from the main road. Either the occupant of the cab failed to bring along a shovel and had turned to more creative means of freeing his vehicle from the shallow ditch—or he’d just run over Kris Kringle.

A string of expletives describing exactly how the driver felt about the sudden snowstorm that had hit the High Sierra hard and fast carried over the whirring of the spinning tire. Finally he cut the engine, and with one last four-letter comment, got out and slammed the truck door.

“Kitty litter works a heck of a lot better than a Santa suit.”

A tall man wearing a dark green down jacket and a knit hat rocked to a stop and pressed a gloved hand to his chest. “Good God, give me a heart attack. Where did you come from?”

Shay eyed him up and down. Broad shoulders and a wide chest sure filled out the jacket. She was no wimp when it came to self-defense but guessed this guy could take her down in a heartbeat. If he could catch her. Still, despite the swearing—and she didn’t blame him considering the circumstances—his deep blue eyes reflected an even temper. She was pretty sure the ax tossed on top of the noble fir in the bed of the truck had only been used on the tree and not the former owner of the red suit.

She glided closer on her cross country skis. “I was heading home from visiting friends when I heard you yelling to wake the dead. I figured someone needed help.”

His cheeks colored as he blew out a puff of breath in the frosty air. “Sorry about the language. I was a little frustrated.” Plowing through knee deep snow, he rounded the back of the truck and held out a hand. “I’m Fritz, by the way, Fritz Erickson.”

After dropping her pole, she gripped the gloved hand as best she could through her mitten and gave it a firm shake. “Shay Ballard.”

“Nice to meet you, Shay. I don’t suppose you have any kitty litter in your backpack.”

She grinned. “Afraid not. A thermos of hot spiced cider and Christmas cookies aren’t going to be much help, but I do have a suggestion. If we cut some tree bows to place beneath the tire, they might work better for traction than the Santa jacket.”

“I’m willing to try anything at this point. The suit was a last ditch effort after everything else failed.” He lifted one shoulder. “I knew I was taking a risk using this track when it started to snow, but I saw the perfect tree out here when I was visiting last summer.” Even teeth flashed in a smile. “Live and learn. The ultimate Christmas tree might cost me a frigid night spent in the wilderness.”

“I could always come back to get you with a second pair of skis, but I think this method will work if I drive and you push.”

“I’m willing to try anything once.” Hefting the ax, he cut branches from a nearby pine tree. After she pulled out the red jacket and tossed it in the truck bed, he spread the boughs beneath the rear tire.

“Maybe place a few more limbs in front of the tire to get some momentum onto firmer ground. Looks to me like you just got too close to the edge of the road and slipped over the side. The new snow is only about eight inches deep, but there’s a layer of ice at the bottom of that ditch.”

“Figures.” Fritz crawled out from beneath the truck and jerked off his hat to run a hand through pale blond hair before wiping melting snowflakes from lean, tanned cheeks. “A blast of wind sent snow cascading across my windshield, and for a moment I couldn’t see where I was going. I guess it would have been smarter to stop.” He raised one brow. “Ready?”

With those piercing blue eyes topped by a wide brow and hair the color of champagne, he resembled a Norse God. She’d be willing to bet beneath the layers of clothing, he was sporting a physique his Viking ancestors would have killed for.

“Shay?”

“Oh, right.” Her face heated despite the chilly temperature as she snapped out of her skis and leaned them against a tree along with her poles then crossed to the cab. “I’ll ease the truck forward while you push.”

“Sounds good.”

After starting the engine, she gave the truck a little gas then let off the accelerator, trying to create a rocking motion. When the spinning tire caught on the branches, she pressed harder, and the pickup lunged forward. Driving a few yards farther to make sure she was back on the road, she eased to a stop then glanced in the rearview mirror. A laughing snort escaped as Fritz picked himself up off the ground. He was caked in snow from the knit cap all the way down to a pair of sturdy boots.

Leaving the engine idling, she climbed out. “What happened?”

“I was pushing so hard I fell face first when the truck jerked forward.”

“Sorry.”

He glanced up from brushing off his jacket. “I’m not. You saved me from a long, cold night.” His gloved hands wiped down the sides of his jeans. “Uh, can I give you a lift home? It’s starting to get dark, and the snow’s falling faster again.”

Long shadows from the towering evergreens blended with the encroaching darkness. Though it couldn’t be much past four, with the heavy cloud cover she’d be lucky to make it back to her cabin before the last of the daylight faded. “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

He strode closer. “Just so you know, I’m not an ax murderer or anything. Getting into a car with a stranger in the middle of nowhere isn’t exactly smart, but—”

Shay held up a hand. “I’m not worried.”

“You’re not?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Why not?” He sounded almost offended.

A little smile curled her lips. “Because it suddenly occurred to me I know who you are.”

“You do?”

       “Sure. You’re my date for Christmas Eve.”

Hope you'll stop by tomorrow for Part Two of Christmas Destiny!

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Santa's Second Chance Part Three by Margo Hoornstra

       Ryan’s arms circled Stephanie’s waist as his warmth pressed against her from behind. “I’m so sorry I disappointed you.”
      Caught off guard, she was at a momentary loss for what to do. His lips nuzzled the side of her throat. Sharp tingles of need and wanting nearly swept her away. To be honest, she’d had her fill of pushing away from him. It would be so easy to simply rest her head on his shoulder, lean into the comfort she always found in his arms.
      Which right now wasn’t an option. If Ryan got all bent out of shape over something so minor as playing Santa for a bunch of harmless senior citizens, how in the world would he react when—if—they faced major decisions in their future? Where to buy a house. How to raise their children. On a deep breath, a mixture of resolve and regret, she eased out of his embrace.
      Letting her go without protest, his arms dropped to his sides. “Too soon?”
      Quick to turn away so he wouldn’t catch sight of unexpected tears, she nodded.
      “I’m really sorry then.” His voice was a low whisper.
      Infused with enough sadness to have her nearly scrambling back to him. “Me too.”
      Silence, oppressive and heavy, settled between them. She busied herself putting away ingredients, rinsing out dirty dishes she stowed in the dishwasher. Finally, she turned his way, leaning against the counter for support.
      “My dad had a short fuse. My mother did too. She’d challenge him when he exploded. Their shouting matches became legendary around the neighborhood.” Her inhale was shaky. “I don’t want that for my life.” Though her voice cracked, she managed to go on. “I can’t live that way, Ryan.”
      “No one’s asking you to.”
      “He’d stalk out of the house, just like you did.” Her face crumbled at the pain of remembering. “The last time, he never came back.”
      “Oh, Steph.” Ryan moved nearer. “That was him. Not me.”
      “Last night, it felt the same.”
      “It never occurred to me to not come back to you. My parents used to engage in shouting matches too. Non-stop. Neither one of them ever left, when maybe they should have.” When she had nothing to say to that, he went on. “What time does the party start?”
      She sniffed back tears before answering. “The luncheon is at one. San— the other festivities and gifts immediately after. Probably around three.”
      “Can we talk about this before you leave?” He hauled in a breath. “I realize just saying I’m sorry and laying out my reasons isn’t going to cut it.”
      The hopelessness in his tone spurred her into defensive mode. “What if what happened last night was just the beginning? I expect us to trust each other. Be able to depend on each other. All the time.”
      “Last night ruined that? I find that hard to believe.”  His hands came out, palms up.  “Look. I made a mistake. Things haven’t been going the greatest at work. A lot more responsibility and less time to finish projects. Not to mention fewer resources than ever before. I was being pushed in all directions there. Then I came home and—”
      “I gave you another job to do.”
      “I was wrong to overreact the way I did.”
      Shaking her head, she didn’t reply. Each and every time her parents fought, she swore to herself when she grew up and got married, things would be different. Anyone who walked out on her would do so only once. Yet, here she was with Ryan. Contemplating forgiving him.
      “My being overwhelmed at work is no excuse for taking it out on you.” He stopped just long enough to take a breath. “For the record, though, I did come back to you. Last night.”
      “And I wouldn’t let you back in.” Warm tears coated her cheeks as she gazed up at him. “That was my fault, and I’m sorry too. If I’m not here to support you, who is?”
      Gentle, caring, his arms came around her. Bringing comfort she sorely needed. “I promise never to walk out on you again.”
      Blue eyes shining with love for her darkened to a cobalt hue, and confirmed everything he told her was true. His lips covered hers like a butterfly touching down on a flower in springtime. Her arms circled his neck as she deepened the pressure of their kiss. Anger, disappointment, hurt, fear all drained away as love for Ryan and hope for their future together surged up to fill the void.
****
      “I should have been thoughtful enough to check with you first.” Still holding tight, she murmured the words as they came up for air. “Instead of offering you up for the job without asking.”
      “It’s really not that big a deal. I overreacted.”
      Arms stroking her back, he folded her against him. Holding her close, the steady rhythm of her breathing soothed him and he closed his eyes on a sigh.
      “It terrified me to see you hanging out there. Almost falling. That took guts.”
      “Not really. Just stupid desperation. Plus, I have to say, I was more than a little terrified myself.”
      Her giggle vibrated against his chest. “Either way, I now know the lengths you’ll go to in order to get my attention.”
      Blowing out a shaky breath, he pulled back to meet a warm brown gaze filled with love, and his own vision blurred. “We both do now.”
      She reached up to caress the dampness on his cheek. “I couldn’t stand to ever lose you.”
      Emotion clogged his throat and he drew her closer still while his heart soared. “I couldn’t stand to let you go.”
      “I wouldn’t allow you to.” Keeping her hold around his neck, she glanced over his shoulder and out the side window. “That particular Santa suit is toast, I’m afraid.”
      Without releasing her, he turned toward the bright red, sodden mess, still securely attached to the balcony above. Frozen stiff and solid as it flapped back and forth in a driving wind.
      “Good thing I called to reserve another one in my size. The one I’m going to purchase.”
      Brown hair swished over her shoulders as her head turned his way. “The one you’re going to what?”
      His lips brushed her temple. “Purchase. I’m buying myself a Santa Claus suit.”
      “You plan to make a career of playing the role?”
      “Every year.”
      Arms wrapped tighter, she relaxed into him. “Every year?”
      “Every year they, and you, will have me.” With a grin that felt fabulous, he checked the digital clock on the stove. “We have just enough time to pack up the cookies, pick up the suit and make it to lunch. But, first…”
      Head lowered, he brought his mouth down to seal his vow with a kiss.

       Join us here tomorrow for another great Christmas short story by Leah St. James! Also, please visit my website.

Santa's Second Chance Part Two by Margo Hoornstra

        Slipping his room temperature sweat pants over body parts on the verge of frostbite, Ryan whooshed out a long, appreciative sigh. Stephanie had handed the clothes over just in time. He was about to lose the battle to keep his teeth from chattering. Definitely not the way a totally in charge male acted around the woman he loved. The one who hadn’t let him freeze to death after all.
      It was a tossup whether he was more relieved to be out of the bone chilling cold. Or grateful that Stephanie had forgiven him enough to let him back in to their apartment. On second thought, no contest. Possible forgiveness won. He chanced a quick glance her way as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head.
      Long brown hair framing a flawless complexion, an adorable, turned up nose, moist and delicious lips. A delicate chin that had notched up in defiance more than once since they’d moved in together. The sleek, inviting throat, gently sloping shoulders…
      “Is that better?”
      His head came up at her question. Further thoughts scattered. “Much. Thank you.”
      Thick, sweeping lashes rimmed beautiful brown eyes. Eyes that had charmed him from day one, and held him captive ever since. Eyes staring, narrowed and wary, as she squared up before him now.
      Icy knots of fear gripped him. Ten-fold what hit there when he’d nearly lost it and sailed over the railing a few moments ago. Since rappelling down from the apartment above, he’d assumed she forgave him. As he’d recently learned, living by assumption could be dangerous. He wasn’t about to venture down that slippery slope again.
      None the less, being this close after spending one night without her, all he could do was jam both hands in the pockets of his sweat pants. That way, he’d be much less likely to wrap her in his arms and kiss her senseless.
      “I put my heart and soul into our recent discussions about marriage. Shared my expectations and my fears.”
      “No more than I did.” He couldn’t help his defensive tone. Pausing to swallow, he took a breath and fought to soften the rest of it. “All I was doing last night was taking a break. Things were spiraling out of control. I didn’t know how to make it stop.”
      “Me either.”
      With a giant step toward her, he opened his mouth to launch into the apology he’d rehearsed to perfection during his all-nighter. His arms lifted to reach for her. “Stephanie. I—”
      A buzzer, blaring from the kitchen drowned him out.
      She was quick to turn her back on him, as if she’d been waiting for the opportunity. “My cookies are done. Angel wings. Very delicate.” Hurrying away, she flung more information behind her. “Only a couple of minutes of over baking can burn them.”
      Even if they did, whatever she had in the oven would sure taste a heck of a lot better than the crow he’d come down here to eat. Hands coming out of his pockets, he padded after her. Past the apartment sized drop leaf table flanked by two chairs, one at either end.
      He’d done the exact same thing last year at this time. Followed her into the kitchen, rather showed up there whenever she was bustling around in it. Coming from a family where the holidays were merely another opportunity for more heartache rather than joy, he fed off Stephanie’s strict adherence to holiday traditions. Being part of anything to do with this woman filled a need in him he wasn’t willing to give up.
      As always when Stephanie was in the kitchen cooking and baking, the place was a direct hit. Open bags of flour, white sugar and brown stood on the counter. The lid was up on a half empty egg carton. Two measuring cups, one big and one small, sat beside a large, green mixing bowl. Small containers of spices were lined up beside that.
      Last year, their first Christmas living together, he was a big part of the holiday preparations. Shopping. Baking. Wrapping. Laughing. Loving.
      Last year on Christmas Eve….
      They’d made the cookies together, gone to see her grandma, a friendly, gracious woman who made no secret of her fondness for both of them.
      “He’s a keeper, Stephanie Dear. Don’t ever let this one go.” Eyes dark and warm like her granddaughter’s, the comment was bestowed in a stage whisper from behind a frail hand. To which the love of his life had replied, “I don’t intend to, Grandma. Ever.”
       After that, they’d shared dinner, laughed at the antics of the poor sucker all dressed up, pretending to be Santa. The same one who had agreed to play the role this year. Until he broke his leg on a downhill ski run. Stephanie asked Ryan to fill in at the last minute. Actually, she’d assumed he would without asking. Just brought the darned suit home with her.
      Because she hadn’t checked with him first, his initial response was refusal. Then he figured he’d get points for trying the thing on. He also figured once he was in it, she’d see what he was talking about, how silly he looked. Understand why he wasn’t cut out to play Santa. She didn’t.
      In the end, he came off like some damned Grinch.
      “Why wouldn’t you do this for me?” Eyes glistening with tears that shocked the heck out of him, she didn’t wait for an answer, just turned her back on him, flinging a sharp, “Never mind!” over her shoulder.
      “It’s not that I’m being selfish.” His defense sounded pretty shallow, and he’d cut himself off. Caught up in his own argument, he had to admit, that’s exactly what he was being. Selfish. By then their disagreement had reached the point of no return. Fueled by idiotic pride, he’d stormed out wearing the rented Santa suit. Hard to believe his stupidity at not leaving his street clothes on underneath. It was a miracle he’d taken the two extra seconds required to slip into his running shoes.
      Not that he had to hurry. It wasn’t as if Stephanie had been in hot pursuit begging him to stay. Quite the contrary. Arms crossed over her chest, lips a tight line and back stiff, she didn’t move as he headed out. Just uttered words akin to good riddance as he was about to shut the door. As it was, he’d neglected to take his wallet and keys. Bad idea, when she’d promptly locked him out.
      The oven door slammed shut.
      Wielding the wide metal spatula, she transferred the light golden cookies onto a wrought iron cooling rack. “They’re so delicate. You have to work fast with these.” She could have been talking to herself. Probably was.
      He answered her anyway. “They came out perfect.”
      A sidelong glimpse at him was the extent of her reply.
      Sloughing off the rebuke, he kept talking. “But then, when you make them, they always do. They go in here?” He lifted a foil lined gift box off the counter.
      She gave a hasty glance up, but kept working. “Yes.”
      At least he’d gotten her attention. No doubt because she was afraid he’d wreck the gift container somehow. Like he’d wrecked their Christmas Eve. “I thought so.”
      “Not until after they cool.” She slipped the last cookie onto the rack. The spatula clinked as she set it on the counter.
      Silently, he edged toward her. Before she had a chance to turn around, he made his move.
      
       Join me here tomorrow for Part Three of Santa's Second Chance! Also, please visit my website.

Santa's Second Chance Part One by Margo Hoornstra

        She’d never seen a Santa suit used in quite that way. One red velvet pant leg was tied to a matching sleeve and suspended from the railing above like bed sheets knotted together for a jail break. What was more amazing, dangling spread eagle from the fur tipped end of the other sleeve was a man. A nicely-developed man.
      Against her better judgment, Stephanie strode across her living room toward the sliding glass door for a better look. He was hanging there buck naked, except for a pair of bright white skivvies, matching crew socks, and high end running shoes.  About to drop onto her third floor balcony.
      Surprise, curiosity, even amusement rippled through her. Oddly, fear was nowhere to be found. Why should it? He certainly had no place to hide a weapon. As she edged closer, a brisk blast of wind howled by. Caught unaware, legs flailing, he catapulted outward with nowhere to go but over the rail then down.
      Palms pressed to her cheeks, her mouth gaped open. For a split second Stephanie forgot to breathe.
      Eyes wide, she finally exhaled on a gasp.  “No!”
      Outside the glass, bare legs pumped wildly, tight together then apart. Like an Olympic gymnast preparing for a well-practiced dismount, on one final heave of body and limbs, he landed with a thump. Feet going in opposite directions on the ice slicked surface, he finally jolted to a stop. His death grip on the suit loosened and he let go. Firmly attached to the balcony above, bright red fabric flapped up and out on more wintery gusts. His back was to her as he stilled. Probably needing a moment to collect himself. Unable to help it, she completed a hasty one, two appraisal. Solid legs sprinkled with dark hair, a nice, tight tush. Muscled back. Broad shoulders. Well-structured arms. All turning around to face her!
      Full attention jerked up to his face, she immediately locked gazes with eyes the clear blue of a sun kissed glacier. That disturbing indigo gaze regarded her with swift recognition.
      Good God. I’m not ready for this.
      Regardless, she had to do something. Not only was the temperature well below zero, insult to injury was at play. Icy raindrops showered down in a sudden rush, hitting like tiny shards of glass. That has to be painful on bare skin. Once frostbite set in, the results could be devastating. Plus, it was Christmas. Her favorite holiday always brought out the Good Samaritan in her.
      Without a second thought, she unhooked the latch and slid open the door. “You need to get inside before you freeze.”
      “Good idea.” Sliding at first, he recovered himself to walk toward her.
      She quickly backed up so he could step inside.
      A grin flashed as he slid the door shut behind him. “Told you we’d meet again real soon.”
      Exactly what he’d said from outside her door the night before. When he tried to initiate a conversation she wanted no part of at the time. She’d hurried into the bedroom and turned the radio on to drown him out, doing her very best to ignore him.
      There was no ignoring him now. “I’ll give you that. Now that you’re here, I’d like you to leave.”
      The smile vanished. Those impressive eyes widened in surprise before his gaze dropped. “Like this?”
      His arms came out to the sides like some model on the runway giving the hard sell of a well-fitting suit. Except, there was no suit. Or clothes of any kind save the tighty whiteys. Powerless to resist, she joined him in the impromptu visual journey. The front view was definitely better than the back. Hard to believe those shoulders appeared even broader. A rock hard chest, six pack abs, cut short by the waist band of his briefs…
      “Surely you wouldn’t throw me out like this.”
      Her regard snapped back to his face. The grin had returned, along with a definite glint in those hypnotic eyes.
      “Don’t be so sure.” One hand came up to clutch together the opened collar of her red button down blouse. Taking a breath, she prayed her cheeks weren’t glowing to match.
      “I stayed with a buddy of mine last night.”
      As if she gave a rip where he’d spent the previous night. “Really.”
      “He lives in the apartment directly above this one.” Hands clasped in front of him, he shrugged. “One thing led to another, and here I am.”
      “Do say.” More irrelevant information shared. It seemed he was compelled to keep talking. Releasing her grip on the blouse, she swept her arm out toward where he’d come from. “Did your friend put you up to this?”
      He shook his head. “Totally my idea.”
      Why doesn’t that surprise me?
      “I figured arriving like this would give us a chance to talk.”
      Shifting her weight to a more solid stance, she folded both arms over her chest. “Are you serious?”
      “Absolutely.” Even white teeth flashed, the mirth of this smile just missing his eyes. “Unless you have somewhere you need to go. A date maybe?”
      “I thought I had a date for this afternoon. It got cancelled.”
      “Which means you’re available?” He took a step toward her.
      She moved an equal distance back. “Not necessarily.”
      The glimmer in that hypnotizing gaze dimmed, and he stopped short. “I swear I don’t intend to hurt you.”
      She stared at him through narrowed eyes. “That’s your opinion.”
      Face aimed toward the kitchen, he sniffed. “Something smells good.”
      She took her eyes off him long enough to glance that way. “I’m making cookies.”
      “What kind?”
      “Christmas cookies.”
      “What kind of Christmas cookies?”
      “All kinds.” Starting to give him a rundown of the varieties she took pride in baking and sharing every year, she clamped her mouth shut.
      “To take to the local nursing home.”
      “Assisted living facility.” Her lower lip came out. “Where my grandmother, the only surviving relative I have, resides.”
      Grin completely gone, gaze dark and serious, he actually winced as her words sunk in. “You got your tree up.”
      She didn’t bother to look over at the six foot artificial fir sparkling from the corner. “Last night. I couldn’t sleep.” The shrug she followed up with was meant to convince him a sleepless night didn’t bother her at all.
      “Same thing happened to me last night. Tossed and turned. When I wasn’t tossing and turning, my mind was revved up. Running a mile a minute. My buddy’s couch wasn’t all that comfortable or nearly big enough.”
      Despite her sensible side putting up a show of resistance, the rest of her, the part which contained her heart, had no trouble coming up with the picture he painted. Him stretched out, full length on his back. Right arm cocked behind his head, left resting on his stomach. Eyes focused on the ceiling.
      A head shake to dispel the image failed her. To banish it once and for all, she glanced over at the tree. Red, green, yellow and blue lights winked at her from within its snow-flocked branches.
      “Not only did I not sleep well last night. I didn’t realize how cold it was outside until I was halfway down.”
      At the sound of his voice, her gaze swung back toward him. Solid biceps flexed as he hugged his arms over a broad chest.
      Wrapped inside of them was like being home.
      Hot tears threatened, a lump edged up to the back of her throat. On a quick breath, she looked away.
      “It’s also pretty cold in here.” He actually shivered then bounced from foot to foot.
      “I might have something you can put on.” For your comfort or mine?
      With one final glance, she turned away to walk to the other side of the living room then reached behind the half opened bathroom door. Lifting the dark blue sweat pants and shirt off the hook, she drew them out then returned to hand them over.
      “Thanks.” As he reached out, their fingers brushed. Heat formed.
      She drew back first. “You’re welcome.”
      The clothes fit perfectly as he slipped into them.
      Why not? They belonged to him.

       Join me here tomorrow for Part Two of Santa's Second Chance! Also, please visit my website.