Jill Shalvis - Small Town Christmas

It was thick and itchy. And Christ, what was up with the fat belly? “Santa needs a gym,” he said, looking down at himself. “And a whole hell lot less carbs and fat in his diet.”

Sandy snorted, then covered her mouth, still staring at him.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Hand still clamped over her mouth, she shook her head. Then she nodded. Yes. Yes, she was laughing at him. Her eyes were sparkling. She was smiling. She was beautiful. Leaning in, he kissed her on the end of her adorable nose. “You can trust me to have your back.”

She hesitated, then nodded, but he could tell she didn’t believe him, not wholly. That was okay. He was well used to proving himself, over and over again. It was one thing he could do and do well.

Or so he hoped. Because this wasn’t a race, and it wasn’t a game. Getting Sandy to believe in him, in them , was going to be the most important thing he’d ever done.

Sandy stood at the end of the parade, watching as the crowd celebrated and the kids rushed Santa.

Logan.

He was in the hat, glasses, wig, and beard, and he’d even let her redden his nose. The costume was too short for him, but they’d stuffed the hem of the red pants into the black boots to be less noticeable. The belly was over-the-top-hell, the whole thing was over-the-top-but Logan was completely immersed into the role.

It shocked her.

He shocked her. She had the world-famous NASCAR driver wearing a Santa costume for a small town he’d never even heard of until five months ago.

He isn’t for me . She’d finally convinced herself that he was too into his career and the glitz and glam world that went with it, that he’d never be interested in making anything work with a small-town girl like herself.

But then he’d shown up.

For how long?

He glanced up and looked at her with that soft, tender, heated expression, the one that told her that she was the only woman on his mind.

Her .

When he could have had anyone. He sat on the throne at the end of the pier that had been set up for Santa, complete with a faux winter wonderland and lights and all the decorations the evening called for. As Sandy mingled and made sure the line stayed in control and that everyone was enjoying themselves, she kept one eye on Logan. Kid after kid jumped into his lap and whispered their greatest wishes for Christmas morning.

He had a smile for each of them, and she had to admit, she couldn’t tear her eyes off of him. He was doing this, coming through for her like no one else ever had, and he was doing it with good grace and utter sweetness.

Realizing that the line had died down, she slowly walked toward him. The only part recognizable was his eyes. Eyes that tracked her approach.

He let out a slow smile. “Got a wish, little girl?”

Yes, for you to stay . “I’m a little old for wishes.”

His smile went from playful to serious. “You’re never too old for wishes.”

Logan watched Sandy absorb his words and realized that she wanted to have faith in him; she wanted that badly.

But she wasn’t sure she could.

His own fault. He’d had things pretty fucking easy most of his life, and he knew it. He was spoiled, and he knew that, too. But now was the time to change, time to learn from his mistakes.

Time to work his ass off for what he wanted, for what really mattered.

And that was Sandy. She mattered. She was his.

She just didn’t know it yet.

She hadn’t had anything easy, ever. She gave so freely of herself to others, and she cared. Deeply. She wasn’t used to people noticing, but he noticed. He wanted to kiss away her worries and keep them away forever.

The crowd was gone. He gave her a “come here” crook of his finger, and she surprised him by sitting on his lap. “I can’t tell you my wish,” she said softly, hooking her arms around his neck. “Or it won’t come true.”

He would have liked to make her tell him. He could have done it too, sliding his hands under her dress until she lost herself. But he’d prefer somewhere far more private. Rising, he set her on her feet, stretching, going still when she laughed.

“You look like an old man,” she said.

“An old, fat man,” he corrected, and narrowed his eyes when she laughed again. Enjoying her amusement, he grabbed her hand. “In fact, I’m so old, you’d better take me home.” He led her up the pier to the BMW, which she stared at with open fascination. He knew for a fact that she had several speeding tickets and a few fender benders, so it was a real testament to his feelings for her when he handed her his keys.

She stared down at them in her hand, then lifted her face to his. “I can take it for a spin?”

“Yeah,” he said, sliding into the passenger seat. “Though I should have installed a three-point seat belt system.”

“You don’t have to let me do this.”

He knew she didn’t want to be in any more debt to him. But he was in debt to her, for opening his heart. “Just watch fifth gear,” he said. “It’s an instant ticket maker.”

“ ’Kay.” But she chirped out of the lot on two wheels, and he grabbed the “oh shit” bar. In a Santa costume and he’d lost his balls. She flashed him a wide grin that made putting his life in her hands worth every second.

Half an hour later, after tearing up the mountainous roads with wicked glee, Sandy pulled back into the pier lot and regretfully turned off the car. “Thanks for that, Logan. Thanks for everything. Tonight was-”

He leaned in and kissed her. Kissed her until she let out a soft little moan that went straight through him as she slid her arms around his neck. Cupping her face, he stared into her eyes and saw his own hunger reflected back at him, so he dove back into the kiss, plundering her mouth until they were both panting for air.

Invite me to your place , he wished on a Christmas spirit he wasn’t even sure he believed in. Invite me into your heart .

“Good night,” she whispered instead, starting to get out of the car.

He grabbed her wrist, meeting her gaze, unable to let her go.

“I’m running a soup kitchen at Vet’s Hall until midnight,” she said softly. “I’m the only one of my staff without family in town. I always do it. I’ve got to go.”

Slowly he released her and nodded. She got out of the car, walked to hers, and drove off into the night.

Logan drove to the Lucky Harbor B &B. He knew one of the owners well.

His ex-wife, Tara Daniels.

They’d burned hard and bright in their early twenties, back in his wild days. He’d been an ass then, and hadn’t any idea how to nurture a relationship, much less a woman.

Tara was Southern, a real Steel Magnolia. Tough as hell, with a soft, warm heart.

She’d forgiven him, and they’d even become friends, of all things. He sat with her in the B &B’s big, homey kitchen that she ran like a drill sergeant.

“Word around town is that you’re whipped,” she drawled.

“ Whipped is such a strong word.”

She laughed at him. “Sugar, you’re here in Lucky Harbor, when you could be on a warm, deserted island with an assortment of babes. Give it up. You’ve finally fallen. Hard.”

He looked into her amused eyes and admitted defeat. Not easy for him. “I was a lousy bet in my twenties,” he said in way of apology to her, though she already knew this. “I screwed up, made mistakes. I’m better now. And I know what I want.”

“Don’t you even think about screwing this up,” Tara said. “Sandy’s a friend, a good one. She’s too sweet and kind for the likes of you.”

“I know.”

“You go after her this time, you have to keep her.”