Santa Material Read online

  “I would like to stay,” I admit. “Unless you’re busy. Or you have a date or something.” I’m glad he can’t see my face right now. I killed an imaginary man, but I’ve somehow looped back to him taking the girl’s number at the hardware store.

  “Date?” I swear the one word comes out of him sounding like a bear said it. It rumbles through his body into mine. I peek up at him.

  “Sometimes people date.”

  “When did you date? And who did you date?” His body goes rigid. “I never saw anyone picking you up for these dates.”

  “Maybe I met them at a restaurant?” I suggest. How would he know if someone picked me up or not? He’d have to be looking at my place all the time. Even if he was, he could have still missed someone. He doesn't respond, and the silence grows. Does he think I’m undateable? My stomach drops at that thought.

  “I guess you could have done that.” His mouth has formed into a straight line. I have to look away from him, my eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. Tonight is shaping up to be one of the worst nights of my life. I already killed Santa, and now my big bear man thinks I’m undateable. The possibility of someone asking me out on a date is too far-fetched for Mac to even comprehend.

  “So you don’t have a date tonight that I’m interrupting?” I fumble out the words.

  “No.”

  “Oh, the girl at the hardware store was bragging about giving you her number. I’m sure you’re used to girls falling all over you.”

  He stares down at me and blinks slowly. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  Ah ha! Just as I suspected, there are so many girls throwing themselves at him that he can’t even remember them. That thought sours my mood further.

  “I should probably go home.” I try and step back but get nowhere with his arms wrapped around me.

  “You haven't finished your hot chocolate.” His arms drop away from me, and I step back.

  “I think maybe we should—” I stop talking when I see what’s hanging out of his pocket. The Santa hat. The evidence that I hadn’t dreamed up the jolly old man who was in my garage.

  “Lil bit.” He clears the space I put between us.

  “The hat. It belonged to the man I saw.” Mac follows my line of sight and looks down at his pocket. He pulls it out.

  “I found it on the floor in your garage. I thought you might have dropped it getting out Christmas decorations.” He holds the hat out to me. I take it before settling back into the chair. Sylvester joins me in my lap.

  “Okay. I’ll finish my hot chocolate,” I say, not knowing what to do. I could stay here with Mac and let myself fall deeper into my crush that will never amount to anything, or I could go home and face the ghost of Santa.

  7

  Mac

  Maybe I should go check her place again. Just to be sure there isn’t anyone lurking in a closet or under a bed. Then again, I don’t want to leave Jocelyn by herself, especially when she’s acting so strange.

  Why is she talking about me dating? I’m lost. I’ve never brought anyone home, or gone out with anyone, either. She’s the one claiming she goes out and meets strange men at restaurants or bars, or whatever.

  “Whoa.” She gives me a concerned stare.

  I glance down at my hands. My coffee cup, empty of hot chocolate, thankfully, lies in a heap of crumbled clay on the counter.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine,” I mumble and clean up the mess I hadn’t realized I’d made. Just thinking about her with some other guy is enough to have me destroying my home goods. I need to get it together or I’ll scare her away. “It was old. You know how coffee cups get all brittle. Very common.” I force a smile as I swipe the mess into the trash bin beneath the counter.

  “Uh huh.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but she sips her hot chocolate as Sylvester purrs contentedly in her lap. “I should go back home. I’ve got projects to do.”

  “You can stay,” I say quickly. Too quickly. I’m botching this. “I mean, if you want to. You can stay as long as you like.”

  “Well, I can’t stay past 1:30 tomorrow afternoon when Carl comes by with the mail.”

  I shrug. “He’ll just bring it to the door. Mailboxes are overrated.”

  She smiles. My heart does that damn triple thump, and I join her in the living room.

  “I’m serious about you staying.” I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t mean, you know, in bed with me, of course.”

  She frowns a little. Shit. Am I insulting her by accident?

  “But I’d love to have you in my bed,” I add. “That would be … excellent, but that’s not what I was trying to… Well, you see, what I meant to say was that you are welcome in my bed. Between my sheets, you know. In pajamas. Or even naked, if you sleep naked. That’s fine. For sleeping. To sleep. Yes.”

  Her cheeks turn a bright pink, and she takes an extra long sip of hot chocolate.

  “No, I don’t mean—” I take a deep breath and try again. “I mean that you can sleep in my bed, and Sylvester and I can sleep out here if you’re worried about a prowler.” Was that so hard, Mac? Jesus, I want to start all over again, but I can’t. The words are already out there.

  She snorts a little, then the snort turns into a full-on laugh. It’s so loud and cute that Sylvester jumps down, claws his cat tree, then climbs it with a friskiness I haven’t seen from him in years.

  Just hearing it puts me at ease. Laughter is good. Far more preferable than her running away screaming.

  Her giggles are infectious, and I laugh a little, the low, grumbly sound so at odds with her high, tinkling laugh. But I like it. They go well together. Like I always thought they would.

  “I appreciate the offer.” She stands and places her empty cup on the pass-through counter between the kitchen and living room. “But I have orders to work on and a mailbox to fix.”

  “Okay.” I try not to let my hopes sink too far. After all, I got her in my front door. That’s a huge win for me. On top of that, she seems a lot more at ease now. No more wide-eyed stares or fear.

  “You sure you’re all right?” I walk to her, trying not to crowd her but finding it difficult given how big I am.

  “I’m good. Just knowing you’re here makes me feel a ton better.”

  I can’t help myself. I pull her into my arms. She melts into me, and I swear holding her feels like the most natural thing in the world.

  “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I mean every word.

  She takes a deep breath and sighs. “The guy I saw wasn’t trying to hurt me, I don’t think. But I’m worried I may have hurt him.”

  “You?” I shake my head. “You’re an angel.”

  She leans back a ways so she can look me in the eye. “You make an amazing hot chocolate.”

  “I make plenty of things you might like.”

  “Yeah?” Her eyes brighten.

  “Most people think I’m some dumb lug, but I actually love …”

  “What?” The way her eyes sparkle make me want to finish my sentence with ‘you,’ but I don’t.

  “I love to cook and bake.”

  “I’m terrible in the kitchen, but I’m a goddess with a hammer.”

  “You’re a goddess wherever you go or whatever you do.” I keep speaking the words from my heart like a total fool. I’ll spook her for good at this rate.

  But instead of stepping back, she nestles against my chest again. “I should’ve busted your mailbox sooner.”

  “Hmm?” I stroke her hair.

  “Oh, nothing.” She does let go then and moves around to the kitchen. “I’ll just put this in the sink.” She grabs her cup. “Oh.” She stops.

  “What?” I hurry to join her.

  She’s looking at my trash bin with the broken cup and the hardware receipt. “You threw it away.”

  “The cup?”

  “The number.”

  “What number?” I peer at the paper. “Oh, that stock number thing?
I don’t need it.”

  She smiles again, and before I realize what she’s doing, she launches herself at me. I catch her with ease, and then, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, I kiss her.

  Our lips meet, strange and messy at first, then warm, then hot, then molten. I press her to my body as I keep her feet off the ground and get to know her lips, her tongue, the way she moves against me.

  I can’t get enough. I kiss her until we’re both breathless and have to come up for air.

  She stares at me, the same way I’m looking right back at her.

  She smiles, her lips already swollen and her cheeks pink and perfect. “Hi.” She runs her fingers along my beard.

  “Hi.” And then I’m kissing her again, unable to keep my lips or hands from her.

  I’m about to set her on the counter and take her sweater off when I hear something. Something like the jingle of bells you hear outside stores at Christmas time.

  She stiffens.

  I pull back and look at her. “What is—”

  “I um, yep. I have to go.” She wriggles in my arms, and I release her.

  And without another word, she darts through my living room, out my front door, and back across the street.

  Sylvester and I stare after her, both of us wondering how we managed to get all the way back to where we started.

  8

  Jocelyn

  I drop the last package into the giant cardboard box I’m filling for the post office. I’ve gotten way more done than I thought I would. It’s nice being ahead of schedule. The Christmas rush is over for me. Any orders placed for the rest of the year will go out in early January.

  I guess that’s what happens when you can’t sleep and you work through the night. Work is the only thing that’s keeping me out of my own head right now.

  It’s either that or drive myself crazy trying to figure out what exactly happened in my workshop with weird Santa.

  I swear I keep hearing jingle bells. It’s why I ran out of Mac’s house so quickly in a panic. I reach up and touch my lips, thinking about the kiss Mac laid on me. The man kissed me as though he were starved for me. My whole body lit up like a Christmas tree.

  For a brief moment, my mind had blanked, and I’d forgotten about everything. Imagine a kiss so consuming it makes you forget about accidentally killing Santa. That’s how good it was. His lips felt as if they were always meant to be on mine. It seemed so natural to kiss him.

  The way he held me made me feel small and delicate in his arms. Then came the sound of those stupid bells. I close my eyes and tell myself this isn't happening. There was no man in my garage, and definitely not Santa. But if that’s true, where had the hat come from? Mac’s suggestion that I dropped the hat when I pulled out the decorations makes sense.

  Crap. I realize I left the hat at Mac’s house. I guess I can use that as an excuse to go over there later.

  My doorbell chimes, breaking me from my thoughts. I pull off my gloves, toss them onto my work bench, and head for the front door. I smile when I look out the peephole and see Mac’s giant chest. It’s all I can see. I step back and look at myself in the mirror, then pull my hair down from my ponytail and try to fluff it. I think I only make it worse.

  “Lil bit. Are you okay?” I hear him say before he rings the bell again.

  I decide my hair looks as good as it’s going to get. I grab the repaired door handle and pull it open.

  “Hi!” I give him a big smile but drop it some when I think about how the girls in school said my teeth were too big. Before I know what’s happening, he’s wrapping an arm around me and pulling me in for a kiss.

  I gasp, surprised for a moment but then quickly recover. Next thing I know I’m digging my fingers into his chest and deepening the kiss. My tongue swirls around with his as I get lost in him. I hear something fall but can’t find a reason to care. Instead, I wrap myself tighter around Mac.

  He lets out a groan that rolls through my body and goes straight to my clit. My back hits something, and I realize I’m rubbing myself against him. His very hard cock is pressing into me. That’s what I’m using to get my own pleasure. My need is growing by the second.

  Mac starts to pull away, but I release his shirt to wrap my arms around his neck and bring that mouth of his right back to me. I think I could do this for the rest of my life. I whimper into his mouth when he takes control.

  He presses me more into the wall, pinning me there as he moves his cock back and forth against my sex. Each stroke hits the perfect spot for me. I barely get to enjoy it before my orgasm hits. My whole body explodes with pleasure as my fingernails dig into his big arms. He lets out another loud groan. His big body jerks against me.

  I wonder if it felt as good to him as it did to me. I slowly open my eyes. My body feels relaxed now, and none of the tension I was holding earlier remains. I drop my head back when he pulls his mouth from mine. He buries his face in my neck, placing kisses there.

  Oh noes. The realization that I just dry humped my neighbor hits me like a ton of bricks. Not only did I dry hump him, but I got off within two seconds. If that doesn't stamp inexperienced across my forehead, nothing ever will. I have no idea what to do at this point.

  “Sorry?” I say. The kisses I was enjoying on my neck stop as Mac raises his head to look at me. When I see the look of disappointment on his face, I wish I could take my words back. “I mean I’m not really sorry, because it felt amazing.” I close my eyes, wanting to die of embarrassment.

  Jingle jingle jingle.

  That all too familiar sound resonates through the house, distracting us both from this awkward conversation. I sigh, relieved to be saved by the bells and by the fact that he can hear them too. Mac slowly lowers me to the ground.

  “Don’t ever apologize for that.” His words are gruff.

  I lick my lips and nod. He doesn't look like he wants to let me go, but he takes a step back. “Is that your phone jingling?” He asks and bends down to pick something up.

  “I don’t know where it’s coming from.” Could it be a cell phone? The crazy Santa could have dropped it. No, that doesn’t work because I heard them at Mac’s house too.

  “I made you some muffins.” He holds out the plastic container he retrieved from the floor.

  “Did I ruin them?” I take the box from him. I attacked him, and he was only trying to bring me muffins.

  “You didn't ruin anything.” He smiles at me.

  I’m secretly afraid I’ve ruined Christmas for everyone, but I keep that to myself. Mac is kissing me and bringing me muffins. I’m not ready to send him running away with more Santa-murdering crazy talk.

  “Coffee?” I ask and motion for him to come into the kitchen. I set the container down.

  “I’d love some.” He leans against the counter as I make him a cup. I grab an orange juice for myself. I turn to give him his coffee.

  “What kind of muffins--” My words trail off when I see the Santa hat lying on the counter. That wasn't there a second ago.

  “Chocolate chip,” I hear him say, but my eyes are locked on the Santa hat.

  I pick it up. “Did you bring this over with you?”

  “No.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Why?”

  I make a weird clicking sound in my throat, one I’ve never made before.

  “Are you okay?” He puts his cup down before coming over to me. His big hands cup my face, making me look up at him.

  “I’m fine,” I lie.

  Mac’s eyes narrow on me, so I try to change the subject. “I actually could use your help. I have a giant box I need loaded into my car to take to the post office.” His face lights up with a smile at me asking him to help me with something.

  Damn. Just when I think he can’t get any more handsome, he goes and proves me wrong.

  9

  Mac

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” She stares as I load the last box into my truck.

  “Yeah. This would’ve taken you two trips in
your car.”

  She nods. “Right. Well, all the postage is already on there, and Ted at the post office is used to me dropping stuff off all the time. He’s really nice and helpful.”

  “Ted?” My ears perk up. “Young guy. Tall. The one with the hair?”

  She laughs. “Yeah, he’s channeling his inner Bieber. I always tease him about it. But he’s good natured.”

  I bet he’s real nice and helpful, as she says. Good natured? The asshole has probably been salivating every time my sweet lil bit bounces into the office.

  “What’s wrong?” She cocks her head to the side.

  “Nothing.” I flex my fists and try to loosen up the tension. It’s unlike me to feel so … aggressive. Especially when I have no reason for it. Ted is probably helpful to everyone. I don’t particularly remember him being helpful to me, but then again, it’s not like I’m sending a lot of mail.

  “I should go with you. Just in case. These are all gifts, so I need to make sure they don’t get set aside or anything. Sheesh, the post office near Christmas is crazy.” She hurries to the door of my truck.

  I barely beat her to the handle and open it for her. “Hop on up.” Taking her hand, I help her into the seat, then reach across and fasten her seatbelt.

  She smiles, and I steal a kiss from her sweet lips.

  Once I’m in the driver’s seat and backing out, she gives my mailbox stump a frown. “I’m fixing that today. I promise.”

  “No rush.” I shrug.

  “What about your mail?”

  “Like I said, Carl can bring it up the steps.”

  She settles in beside me as we head into Frozen Falls. “I just don’t want you missing your Christmas cards.”

  I snort and give her a look.

  She blinks.

  “Oh, you’re serious?” I clear my throat. “Sorry. It’s just I don’t get a lot of Christmas cards.”