Adaline and Fuzzy arrived at Bluebonnet Chapel to meet the rest of the Comfort Paws teams fifteen minutes before Santa photos were scheduled to start. Already, the line of parents and small children filled the vestibule, stretched down the chapel’s front steps and spilled onto the sidewalk.
“Looks like we have our work cut out for us today, Fuzzy,” Adaline whispered as she pressed a kiss to the top of the spaniel’s head and carried him across the street toward the small white building.
Like the Sunday houses in Bluebonnet, the chapel dated back to the 1800s and featured Victorian-style scrollwork along the eaves. With a wreath on the door and swags of evergreen decorating the railing that flanked the steps, it almost looked like a painting or a scene from a Christmas card. The chapel was going to be the perfect setting for Maple and Ford’s Christmas Eve wedding.
Today, however, it was the scene of total holiday chaos. Adaline wove her way through crying infants dressed in reindeer and snowman onesies, past a toddler climbing his mother’s leg like a tree to find Maple, Jenna, Belle and their dogs in a huddle near Santa’s oversize red velvet chair. Notably, said chair sat empty in front of a camera on a tripod, manned by a photographer whose face was nearly as red as the velvet throne.
“What’s going on?” Adaline whispered as she joined her circle of friends. Fuzzy wiggled in her arms, anxious to get down so he could greet his doggy friends on the hardwood plank floor.
She set the puppy down, and he scampered around Ginger, Peaches and the ever-patient Lady Bird.
“Santa’s not here yet,” Jenna said, casting a meaningful look at her smartwatch.
“I think the kids can sense it, and they’re getting restless.” Belle tipped her head toward the line, where more children were starting to fuss. “Trust me. I work in an elementary school. I know a brewing tantrum when I see one...or ten.”
“Has anyone from the chapel reached out to Santa?” Adaline asked. Maybe whoever they’d wrangled to volunteer for this gig didn’t realize it was still running as scheduled after the ice storm. “Who was our contact person for this visit?”
“Tammy-Jo Williams, the chapel secretary.” Maple glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, good. Here she comes now.”
Tammy-Jo, a fifty-ish woman who—to Adaline’s recollection—favored colorful cardigans and lavender-lemon cupcakes, swept into the vestibule looking as white as a sheet. Her wide-eyed gaze darted around the noisy room until she spotted the pups in their therapy dog vests, and then she scurried toward the Comfort Paws girls.
“We have a situation,” she said with a gulp.
Adaline gave Tammy-Jo a sympathetic smile. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can help.”
“Santa fell on the ice yesterday and sprained his ankle. I had no idea until his wife called just now.” Tammy-Jo’s gaze darted to the line of children waiting to tell Santa Claus what they wanted for Christmas and then back at Adaline. “I don’t know what to do. Do you really think you can help?”
“I’m sure between all of us, we can come up with a substitute Santa.” Adaline offered up the name of Gram’s friend at the senior center who’d volunteered to play Santa for Comfort Paws before the fundraiser got downsized.
Tammy-Jo winced. “I’m afraid that’s the same Santa we’d originally booked. He has that lovely, natural white beard.”
Belle frowned. “That’s unfortunate.”
“There’s got to be someone else. I’d get Cam to do it, but he’s on his way to Houston. His foundation is hosting a holiday party today at the children’s hospital, and the entire starting lineup for the Rattlers is going to be there.” Jenna gnawed on her bottom lip and glanced at Maple. “What about Ford?”
Maple pulled a face. “He just texted me. One of his patients stepped on a glass ornament and needs stitches, so he’s on his way to his office for an emergency call.”
Adaline stared at the floor and tried to make herself invisible. Apparently, the roster of potential emergency Santas was made up exclusively of Comfort Paws significant others, which meant she knew exactly where the conversation was headed.
Surely she wasn’t going to be forced to call Jace and ask him to climb into a ratty red fur suit and mingle with dozens of children when she hadn’t spoken to him in days. That seemed above and beyond the call of duty for a fake holiday boyfriend—especially when she was still trying out the whole cleanse thing. The thought of trying not to fall for a man while he held babies all day and whatever pillow they stuffed in his red fur suit shook like a bowl full of jelly seemed like a losing proposition.
“Adaline, do you think Jace might be willing to help?” Jenna asked.
And there it was. So much for trying to disappear into the woodwork.
“I’m sure he’d be happy to step in...” if he was actually my boyfriend and I wasn’t the biggest liar in the state of Texas “...but he needs to move all his trees back to the town square today if he’s going to get the Christmas tree lot back up and running this evening.”
At least her excuse was based on the truth. Adaline breathed a tentative sigh of relief.
But then Maple spoke up and burst her bubble.
“He’s already got the lot all set up for tonight. Ford helped him first thing this morning.” Maple gave Adaline an odd look. “Jace didn’t tell you?”
Panic swirled low in Adaline’s belly. Her brother volunteering to help transport an entire Christmas tree forest—again—certainly seemed like the type of information a boyfriend would share with his girlfriend.
Lack of legitimate romantic feelings aside, now that she thought about it, she was surprised Jace hadn’t said anything.
“My phone was dead all morning,” Adaline said, despite the fully charged cell phone sitting like a rock in the Comfort Paws fanny pack currently strapped around the waist of her skinny jeans. “I must have missed his call.”
“Here.” Maple pulled her phone out of the kangaroo pocket of her Comfort Paws hoodie and thrust it toward Adaline. “You can borrow mine. I’m sure with a little sweet talk you can convince him to be our Santa.”
“He does loves sweet talk,” Adaline said. “So much.”
What was she even saying? It seemed like with all the lying she’d been doing recently, she might’ve gotten better at it. Not so, apparently.
“That’s probably more than I needed to know about Jace, but good for him, I guess,” Jenna laughed. “So you’ll call him?”
“Of course,” Adaline said, because what choice did she have?
She faked a smile and walked Fuzzy just outside the vestibule’s side door for some much-needed privacy and dialed Jace’s number before she could chicken out.
Please don’t answer.
Please don’t answer.
Please don’t answer.
Could the universe throw her a bone, just this once?
Alas, no.
“Hello?” Jace said.
Adaline spit everything out without pausing to breathe. “Hi-I-know-we-haven’t-talked-in-a-few-days-but-I-need-you-to-dress-up-as-Santa-and-pretend-you-love-sweet-talk.”
A pause followed, and just when she wondered if Jace had hung up, he finally said something. “Who is this?”
“Oh. Sorry, this is—”
“Adaline, that was just a joke,” Jace said with a gentleness in his tone that made her heart twist. “Of course I know it’s you. Now slow down and tell me what you need.”
She took a deep breath and told him all about the Santa emergency, and Jace—bless his make-believe boyfriend heart—arrived at the chapel in less than fifteen minutes. He strolled in through the chapel’s side door so the children waiting in line wouldn’t spot him, kissed Adaline right on the lips in front of her friends and even called her Tinsel Toes in an effort to back up her sweet talk claims. Adaline blushed furiously before steering him toward the storage closet where Tammy-Jo had hung the Santa costume.
Did he have to be so convincing at pretending he loved her?
“I can’t believe it. Look at him,” Jenna said an hour and a half later while Jace balanced a twin toddler in the crook of each velvet-clad arm and ho-ho-ho’d until they giggled for the camera. “He’s perfect.”
The twins moved on, and when the next child in line yanked on Jace’s fake beard, he let out a playful, exaggerated moan. The little girl on his lap laughed, and the photographer snapped the shutter just in time to capture the joyful moment. Adaline’s mind spun with visions of that same little girl, years from now, all grown up, finding the photo in an album one day. A cherished family memory.
He can’t help it. He owns a Christmas tree farm. Christmas is in his veins, she told herself, as if that made his charm any less appealing.
Her knees went wobbly. Even the dogs appeared to be enraptured. The three Cavaliers wagged their tails in unison while Lady Bird sat and lifted one paw in a Lassie-style, “sit pretty” pose.
Adaline gave Maple a playful nudge. “I think your dog is flirting with my boyfriend.”
“Take a look around. It looks like every mother and child in this building is flirting with your boyfriend,” Maple said with a snort.
Adaline glanced at the dwindling line of families waiting their turn. Sure enough, all the moms were looking at Jace like he was a holiday snack. Likewise, there wasn’t a fussy child in sight. At the start of the photo session, the therapy dogs had all been working overtime, soothing crying babies and easing anxiety for kids who grew quiet or withdrawn the closer they got to Santa. Over the course of the past ninety minutes, the mood in the chapel had shifted dramatically.
As much as Adaline and the Comfort Paws girls would’ve loved to chalk it up to the dog teams and the comforting presence of the therapy animals, they all knew better. The dogs helped, but the real star here was Jace. He was pure magic. Adaline couldn’t have been prouder, even if her feelings for him had been real.
Fuzzy gazed up at her from the end of his leash and cocked his head. If the puppy could talk, it almost looked like he would’ve asked if she was sure those feelings weren’t genuine, after all. Adaline thanked her lucky stars that dogs couldn’t speak so she wouldn’t be forced to face that most inconvenient question.
“If you guys want to take off, I think Fuzzy and I can handle the tail end of this event,” she said.
Tammy-Jo was in the process of closing the chapel doors, and only a few children remained who hadn’t already had their turn on Santa’s lap. The photo session had already run over its projected end time.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Jenna tucked a stray tendril into her ballerina bun. “Dress rehearsal for the recital is tonight and I kind of need to get going. Will you guys be there tomorrow night?”
“Of course we will. Now go. Shoo! All of you. Fuzzy and I have got this.” Adaline waved them all off.
They left after a brief flurry of air-kisses and a chorus of Merry Christmases. Adaline worked the crowd with Fuzzy for a few more minutes, kneeling to meet the kids at eye level while they petted the Cavalier with tiny fingers, sticky from clutching candy canes.
Then she stood behind the photographer, off to the side, as Jace patiently chatted with the very last little boy, who had a long list of requests for Santa. Jace never rushed him, despite the late hour. Fuzzy stretched his tiny jaws in a squeaky doggy yawn, tail drooping, until finally the child climbed down from Santa’s lap and exited the chapel with a giant, gap-toothed smile on his face.
“Nice job, man. The pictures came out great.” The photographer packed up his equipment in record speed and gave Fuzzy a pat as he zipped past Adaline on his way out. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” she said, and then turned her attention to Jace.
He rose from the velvet throne, peeling off his fake beard as he walked toward her, eyes twinkling.
“Wow. I mean, just...wow.” She crossed her arms and mock-glared at him. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“That’s right. You’ve always had a thing for Santa, haven’t you? Tell me, though. How exactly have I been holding out on you?” He grinned, but now that he was just an arm’s length away, Adaline could see a strain at the edges of his smile that she hadn’t spotted lurking beneath the fake beard and mustache all afternoon.
“I had no idea you had Santa Claus–level charisma. Tell me the truth. Is this Christmas tree farm of yours located at the actual North Pole?” She gave the white fuzzball at the end of his Santa hat a tug.
“Nope. It’s right here in Texas, I promise.” He cleared his throat. “Although, I’m not sure I’ll have it for long. I got an offer on it last week, actually.”
Adaline blinked. “I didn’t realize it was for sale.”
“It’s not, exactly. Life at the farm has been on hold while I’ve been here dealing with Gus. The offer just came out of the blue.” Jace dragged the hat from his head and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it just enough to give him a rather appealing case of bedhead.
Adaline tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but she was confused. Did this mean he was staying in Bluebonnet? Permanently?
“Ford didn’t mention it to you?” Jace asked, looking the slightest bit chagrined.
Ford knew about this? Was that the only reason Jace had decided to tell her?
She tried not to feel deflated. Jace didn’t owe her a thing. It wasn’t as if they were really, truly in love. “He didn’t, but that’s great. I’m happy for you.”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do about it yet, and today...” His voice drifted off and he shook his head. “Let’s just say today has been a lot. This was a nice reprieve. I’m glad you called me and asked me to help. I actually thought you might be avoiding me.”
He searched her gaze, and she didn’t have the heart to lie to him. She’d told so many whoppers lately, and oddly enough, he was the one person she couldn’t bear to tell anything but the unfiltered truth.
“I was. I thought maybe I needed a cleanse to get you out of my system.” Her cheeks went warm as he regarded her. If he laughed at her, she was going to strangle him with that silly Santa hat still dangling from his fingers.
Fuzzy glanced up at them, his little head swiveling from Jace to Adaline and back again.
Jace didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile. “Did the cleanse work?”
“No.” She felt herself frown. “Unfortunately.”
“I thought we might need some time apart too.” He reached for her hand and tugged her closer until she could see tiny flecks of gold in the depths of his evergreen irises. “I hated every minute of it.”
Her lips inched upward into a grin. “You did?”
Jace nodded. “Worst idea I ever had.”
“Worse than pretending to be my boyfriend?” she asked as he ran a thumb over her palm, their hands still intertwined.
His answer was unequivocal. “One hundred percent.”
“I hated it too,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear.
He squeezed her hand in acknowledgment. This was new...this raw and unflinching honesty. She wanted to acknowledge it somehow and show him she really meant it.
So she met his gaze full-on and did it the best way she knew how—by breaking another rule. Only this time, she did it intentionally. “No more cleanses. Okay, Jingle Babe?”
“That’s the single most ridiculous endearment I’ve ever heard, but I’ll take it.” He tipped her chin upward with a touch of his fingertips and kissed her with a tenderness that felt like it broke her heart and stitched it back together all at the same time.
And then while she was still reeling, he murmured against her mouth. “Adaline.”
No one had ever said her name like that before—like it was something rare and sacred. A shiver coursed through her. “Yes?”
“I need to show you something.” His forehead crinkled, and there it was again—the tension in his face she’d spotted earlier.
She thought perhaps it had something to do with his farm. Maybe he’d already decided he wasn’t staying in Bluebonnet, after all. Maybe that’s what this kiss meant...goodbye.
Her breath hitched. “Okay, show me.”
Jace shrugged out of the Santa coat and tossed it onto the velvet chair. Then he reached into the pocket of his soft flannel shirt and pulled out a small, folded square of paper.
He pressed it into her palm. “I haven’t shown this to anyone else. I just found it this morning in Uncle Gus’s barn.”
Her fingers closed around it, and once it was in her grasp, she realized it wasn’t a piece of paper, after all. It was a photograph, soft around the edges and yellowed with age. Adaline unfolded it, but even after the image came into focus, she still couldn’t process what she was looking at.
“You found this in Gus’s barn?” Her eyes lifted toward Jace. “I don’t understand.”
“Join the club.” He released a long, tortured breath. “You said you wanted to get to the bottom of why Gus hates Christmas. Something tells me that might have a lot to do with it.”
Jace’s gaze flicked toward the photo, and Adaline studied it again, searching for clues. The picture showed a woman with lush blond hair standing against a white rail fence. A glossy chestnut-colored horse stood over her shoulder with its mane flowing in the wind and a Christmas wreath around its neck, dotted with holly berries and dusted with sugary white snow. The photo was so striking and festive, like something from a magazine cover or a poster for a holiday movie. But it wasn’t the horse or the woman or the overall merriment that gave Adaline pause. Every time she looked at the picture, her focus narrowed to a pinprick. All she could see was the small dog nestled in the subject’s arms.
Cinnamon markings on a pearly white coat. Fluffy ears separated by a blaze of white. Huge, melting brown eyes...
The tiny spaniel was a dead ringer for Fuzzy.