It was hard to imagine being happier than I was at that moment.
“Morning, Hen!” Joe Cross stepped up on the sidewalk carrying a thick stack of red and green papers. “If you’re standing out here, you mind handing out these…” He looked at me and did a double take, like he hadn’t recognized me at first, then looked down at the papers in his hands. His eyes widened. “They’re printed on recycled paper,” he blurted. “I’m not trying to kill the earth!”
I bit the inside of my cheek and held out my hand. “Can I see one?”
Joe hesitated, like he wondered if I was toying with him, but he couldn’t figure out how to refuse.
“Secret Santa distribution,” I read. “What’s that?”
“All the details were on the other fly—” He cleared his throat. “Never mind. Silly me. It’s a little thing we’re doing after the Santa contest. Secret gift giving. Mostly for the young ones, you know? Folks who’re giving a little something extra to make sure everybody has new toys this year. Teenagers who wanna give a present to their secret crush. That sort of thing.”
“Ah. Too bad I didn’t take your flyer last week then, hmm?” I looked down at Liam. “I don’t have a single present for my secret crush.”
“First, I’m not a secret anymore. And second, I have all the gifts I want.” Liam leaned up to press a kiss to my cheek and when he settled back against me, his arm tightened around my waist. “But that sounds likesomuch fun,” he told Joe.
“Yeah?” Joe’s smile brightened. “Maybe you can help run it next year! Hey, Parks!” he called, waving over our heads. “Liam’s running the Secret Santa next year!”
Liam’s enthusiastic agreement helped me stifle my inner groan, and because I was filled with the magic of Christmas—or possibly an excess of gingerbread pancakes and bacon from Goode’s Diner, which was basically the same thing—when Joe said goodbye I told him, “Patriots chances look pretty damn good this year, huh? Brady’s arm is on fire,” and his face went so shiny-pink with joy, it lit up the cloudy morning.
Who said you had to be mother-fa la la-ing Santa Claus to give good presents, am I right?
“Morning, everyone,” Parker said when he joined us a minute later. He sounded breathless, like being Santa was taking a lot out of him. Or maybe it was carrying the big, black sack he deposited at his feet.
I tilted my chin down at it. “Please tell me there are no more costumes in there.”
“Nope.” He grinned. “Presents for the Secret Santa. All the Santas in town have been collecting them, and nowI’mcollecting fromthem.”
“That’s a lot of Santas,” Hazel said.
No shit, kiddo.
“Which means there’s a lot of presents,” Parker said. “And I have even more at the bar. You guys are coming to the contest judging, right? Half an hour, out on the fairgrounds?”
“We’re making our way in that direction,” I agreed.
“I want to see if therealSanta is there,” Hazel said rubbing her hands together. “I’d love to have a chat with him.”
Liam and I exchanged a look over her head, and Liam shrugged. “Hazel’sdecidedSanta is real,” he informed Parker.
“Good call, Hazel,” Parker approved. “Magic happens.”
God forbid.I made a noise somewhere between disagreement and disgust, and Liam slapped my abs lightly.
“The irony of having my two favorite people obsessed with Santa in completely different ways is not lost on me,” he sighed. “This is my life now.”
“It’s not anobsession,” Hazel and I said together. Then we looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Next year you’ll be up there with us, Liam.” Parker wiggled his eyebrows. “Won’t that befun, Gideon?”
“Fun,” I deadpanned as Liam laughed into my chest. “Can’t wait.”
I made a mental note to talk to Liam about this. I’d do anything to make the man happy, but our bedroom needed to remain a Santa-free zone.
“Hey, Hazel!”
I looked over my shoulder. Julian Ross’s long, gray coat flapped in the breeze as he jogged across the street from the vet clinic, and Daniel Michaelson strode a pace behind him, kitted out in Santa-red velvet.
“Lilly and the kitties say hi and thanks for visiting with them yesterday.”
