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Chapter Sixty

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Holly

It was one of the best Christmas moments I have ever experienced. From the moment they brought the kids into the lobby, I felt overwhelmed with emotion. The joy on their faces as they ate treats that were made with all their various dietary needs in mind, took in the decorations that the employees and parents and business owners of the town had spent so much time putting together, was magic. Absolute magic.

Lawson looked happier than I have ever seen him when he came in dressed as Santa. There was a sparkle in his eyes, almost hidden between the white trim of his hat and the big, fluffy fake beard. The outfit looked a bit silly on him, considering he was so incredibly in shape, but that might have just been me because I knew what was under the suit. To everyone else, his towering presence and general bigness might have made up for the fact that you could tell pretty easily he had a pillow tied around his stomach.

The kids didn’t seem to notice, and that was the only real worry. They were so enamored with him and how big and loud and in character he was that they didn’t seem to be putting together the inconsistencies. For the rest of the adults, it was an incredible surprise. They were used to Santa making special appearances once a year or so, but usually at a distance or doing the lap-sitting deal. This was different. Lawson was personable and walking around, talking to them.

And he knew their names.

I was sure Rachael was helping him somehow, but it felt like magic. He would be able to pinpoint children and bring them their gifts personally, especially the ones who couldn’t really move around much and were stuck in chairs or beds that had been wheeled in. Jerome, being first, was especially poignant since we had fretted over his letter and gifts so much. Seeing him completely believe was something I didn’t think I would ever forget.

I tried to hang near Lawson the rest of the evening, helping him by carrying gifts for the kid he was going to see or talking with the parents while he spoke to the child. More than a few of them asked if I was Mrs. Claus, and after the second time of avoiding audibly confirming it I went with it and just told them I was. Lawson didn’t seem to mind, and we kept moving through the kids one by one, talking about their letters and surprising them with as many of the gifts that were on them as we could.

As the revelry continued, Rachael pulled us both aside and asked us to make a video for the kids who weren’t able to make it out of their rooms. I stayed quiet while he performed, showing off the gifts that he got for each person he filmed a video for and being shockingly good at the performance. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said this wasn’t the first time he had played Santa. But I watched him buy the suit and he talked briefly about how excited he was to do it, implying it was his first time.

He was a natural.

The treats were great, and Giuseppe outdid himself. The other food that had been brought in was nearly as good, and I spent the majority of the evening with a glass of sparkling grape juice in my hand. As the party started winding toward a close, Lawson pulled me aside and spoke quietly to me.

“We should make a big exit so the kids won’t fight going back to their rooms. If I’m still here I’m afraid they will, fearing they’ll be missing something,” he said.

“Okay, how do you want to do it?”

Lawson grinned and looked toward the door, then took my hand.

“Come with me,” he said.

“Okay.”

We walked toward the front door and he pulled me to his side, still holding my hand, and faced us toward the crowd.

“Children! Sadly, it’s time for Santa to go.” A chorus of sad sounds came from the children and more than a few of the adults. “I know, I would like to stay here tonight with you as well. However, this time of year is rather busy for me, and I must be off to prepare. I hope everyone had a wonderful time and... what’s this?”

He was looking above him and I turned to see what he was looking at. My heart jumped a little bit when I saw that directly above us hung mistletoe. I looked into his twinkling eyes, and for a moment the magic was real. He was Santa. I was Mrs. Claus. And there was an obligation to be met under the mistletoe.

“Why I think that’s mistletoe, Santa,” I said.

There was much mixed emotion and reactions from the children as Santa pulled me in tight and pressed his lips to mine. The fake beard tickled my upper lip a little, but I didn’t care. The reaction of the kids, however, made the rest of us laugh and I broke down into giggles, breaking the kiss.

“With that,” Lawson said, “we must be off! Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Lawson tugged lightly on my hand and we swept our way out of the hospital, waving over our shoulders as the children waved back and shouted their own wishes for a Merry Christmas at us.

We ran around the side of the building and hopped into his car, letting mine stay at the hospital for the night. As we drove away, he pulled the beard off his face and set it down on the console between the seats. For the first time since he put it on, I could see his smile. It looked glued to his face.

“That was amazing,” I said.

“Yes, it was,” he said. “It really was. Seeing their little faces light up like that...”

He didn’t have to finish the thought. I knew what he was saying. It was incredible, and gratifying to be able to bring joy to them, and any doubts I might have had about Christmas seemed like they slipped away during those hours. I turned into Mrs. Claus for the night. Literally.

We got back to the house a few minutes later, to find the main room was quiet. Most of the guests were either already off to bed or still out doing last-minute shopping or enjoying the lights in the park. Everything was dark and cozy, and all I wanted to do was get into pajamas and curl into him.

But not in the main room. I wanted him alone.

It was tricky, though, as was our whole situation. Asking him to come back to my room might mean that there was more expected of the situation, as would me going back to his. I didn’t know how to express to him that I just wanted to be near him, to hold him through the night and listen to his heart beating in his chest as my head lay on it.

Our eyes met across the kitchen table as I made us a quick dinner of leftovers from the night before. There was a calmness in his eyes now. A satisfaction of a job well done, one he truly deserved.

“This chicken pot pie is delicious,” he said. “You did really well with the pie dough.”

“You can thank the bakery at the grocery store for that one,” I said. When he cocked an eyebrow, I shrugged. “You weren’t around to help me make one, and they had them on sale weeks ago. So I bought them and froze them.”

“If you had frozen pie crusts, why did you keep trying to make your own from scratch?”

“I broke all but one of them before I started making them from scratch,” I admitted. “I dropped them in the driveway and they shattered. One made it and I stuck it way back in the back of the freezer as a just-in-case.”

He laughed and shook his head.

“Well, they did a fine job with the dough. You did great with the filling,” I said.

“Thank you,” I said, picking at my own plate. “I think I’m about done.”

“Me too,” he said. “I filled up on cupcakes and those little cinnamon bread things.”

“Churros,” I said. “They were churros.”

“Right,” he said. “I knew there was a name for them, I just forgot what it was. They were delicious.”

“They were,” I agreed. “I must have eaten three of them.”

“Ahh, I got you beat,” he laughed. “By a lot.”

“How many?”

“A lot,” he said, then we both laughed.

“All right Churro Claus, I think it’s time to hit the sack,” I said.

It was a tactical move, saying it that way. It implied that we would go to bed together without explicitly saying so. It still could mean we ended up in different rooms. However he took it, Lawson didn’t give any indication of what that way was, and I frowned. Putting the dishes away, I started for the stairs and Lawson followed me.

As we got to the crest of the landing, Lawson pulled me in tight so our lips were barely touching.

“Earlier,” he said. “Santa got a kiss from Mrs. Claus,” he said.

“I remember.”

“But I’m not Santa anymore,” he said. “And there’s no mistletoe. No obligation.”

“I can see that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper as our lips inched closer and closer.

“So this is from me,” he said.

Our lips met and I felt my body completely melt into him. He held me up, kissing me deeply, passionately, and then pulling away.

“Goodnight,” he said, his lips brushing mine as he spoke.

“Wait,” I said before he got more than two steps away.

“Yes?” he asked, turning back toward me.

“Stay with me tonight,” I said.

He paused only for a moment, a small smile curling up one side of his face, then nodded.

“Let me go get my things.”

I nodded and he went into his room. I went into mine, leaving the door cracked, and changed into pajamas. I didn’t mean I wanted to have sex tonight, and I felt like he understood, maybe even agreed. Our emotions were running high after tonight, and crossing that line again might be something we would want to wait on until we were thinking a bit more clearly. And weren’t as tired.

Lawson came into the room just as I opened the bathroom door. He settled his stuff on the counter and we brushed our teeth, side by side. When we were done with that, he went into the bedroom and I washed the makeup off my face, tying my hair behind me in a braid. When I got back into my room he was in the bed, only wearing a white t-shirt that I could see, the blankets over his stomach.

I smiled and crawled into the bed with him, grabbing the remote. I flipped on the television on the wall and navigated to the streaming channel with the baking show he loved so much. Putting on an episode, I put the remote down on the nightstand and settled into his arms. I didn’t bother to watch the show at all, content to close my eyes and settle into sleep with him.

Soon, his breathing slowed and his heartbeat followed. I could hear the show just barely above it, but I focused on him. The smell of him. The feeling of his muscular chest under my head. The sound of the thumping in his ribcage.

And we drifted off together, slipping into a content and happy sleep. The last thing I remembered before dreams took over was him kissing me on the top of my head.

I dreamed of carriage rides and snowmen. I dreamed of Christmas.