Dawn Temple - Moonlight and Mistletoe

“Yes, ma’am. How are Travis and the carnival doing?”

“I don’t know. I was so anxious to talk to you that I haven’t even been out there yet.”

She bumped her hip against Lindy’s. “Go support your husband. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Lindy wandered off, Shayna returned to watching the action. This year’s most popular attraction by far was the Santa photo booth. Even though it was after eight, dozens of kids still waited to share their holiday wishes.

All evening, Kyle had sat in the oversized chair, patiently listening to the children’s wishes while frazzled parents called out, “Say cheese!” For the ones who needed extra coaxing, he talked and chatted until they relaxed and began enjoying themselves. After each picture, he’d send the kids off with a candy cane and a jolly “Merry Christmas.”

Seeing Kyle relate so well to the children had been another of the night’s many shocks. She couldn’t help but wonder what piece of his puzzle provided that ease.

Shayna acknowledged the stab of jealousy she felt watching a recently divorced mother of two rub her cheek against Kyle’s, insisting they pose for a second picture, just to be safe. Not that she had any right-or reason-to be jealous. If one of those women wanted an unethical lawyer who would sleep with a gal for the sake of his career, then they were welcome to him.

Now, if she could trust the glimpses of good she’d seen in him, she might not be so quick to throw him to the hordes.

As the crowd began to thin out, Shayna checked to make sure the hair she’d meticulously arranged to look carelessly tousled was still pinned in place. She wanted to help gather together the “Fostered Elves” as they’d dubbed themselves, and make sure they all got their pictures taken with jolly young St. Nick.

She spied Tommy Hunter, looking like a truly mischievous elf, tucked behind a giant Christmas tree. Even though he was only eight, Tommy was a born leader. Once he was corralled, the other kids would be much easier to round up.

Tiptoeing as quietly as she could in her clunky white boots, Shayna snuck up behind the skinny boy and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” she whispered. “I’m looking for the elf king. Do you know where he is?”

A round face poked out from between the branches. His front teeth were missing, ragged brown bangs hung over his forehead and several large freckles covered his nose. He smelled like little boy sweat and hot chocolate.

Tommy pointed toward Kyle and the dwindling line of photo-seekers. “The elf king sits over yonder, fair lady.”

She shook her head and grasped his sticky hand. “That one’s an imposter. I believe you are the real elf king, my lord.”

She tugged and Tommy came without protest. “You’ve discovered my secret, lassie.” He laughed, adopting a leprechaun brogue. “Guess you’ll be wantin’ me gold.”

What she wanted was a hug but knew it would embarrass him. “No gold, sire. ’Tis a photo I be wanting.”

Together, they took their place at the end of the line. As predicted, the other children soon stood clustered around them, curious to see what fun and excitement Tommy was stirring up.

When they finally reached the front of the line, Santa’s sparkling blue eyes hit her with a hot look she prayed the children were all too young to understand. Her nerves fired to roaring, ecstatic life.

After smoothing her damp palms over her hips, she waved Tommy toward Kyle’s lap, but the boy stepped aside and let the little girl standing behind him go ahead. As Shayna stood in the proud parents spot taking pictures of the kiddos, Tommy, the self-appointed big brother, made sure all the others got a turn.

There were no requests for bikes or dolls from this group. Some of the under-fivers asked for a new family, but mostly the kids mugged for the camera, refusing to tell “Santa” what they wanted for Christmas. These kids had stopped believing in magic years ago. If not for James Miller, she would have become just as jaded and hardened as these kids.

By the time Tommy’s turn came around, Shayna was fighting back tears. She, too, wanted all these kids to get new families for Christmas, but that wasn’t possible. For now, she’d have to settle for giving them the simple, normal memory of sitting on Santa’s lap.

Mustering a happy smile, she gestured to Tommy. “Climb on up, my lord. I want a shot of the two elf kings.”

He wrinkled his freckled nose. “No thanks, Miz Shayna. Santa’s for babies.”

A call from the children’s caseworkers saved Shayna from making a response, not that she could’ve. Her heart broke further as she listened to the group singing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” as they made their exit.

With the last note still ringing in the nearly empty room, Shayna sniffed back her tears and headed over to thank Kyle for service above and beyond the call of duty. As she approached the oversized thronelike chair, she noticed Jolene Murdoch bearing down on them.

“Oh my! Don’t you two make a darling couple. I must get a picture for the paper.” Jolene, a recent addition to their community, managed the twice-weekly Land’s Cross Gazette, and as far as Shayna could tell, the tall, energetic redhead ran the paper single-handedly.

“Jolene, you’ve already taken dozens of pictures of me with the contestants. How about if I e-mail you a photo of one of the county kids sitting on Kyle’s lap?”

“Kids on Santa’s lap? That’s been done to death.” She shook her head. “A couple of young, attractive holiday icons? That’s news!” She chuckled and waved her hand, motioning Shayna onto Kyle’s lap. “Climb on up.”

The idea of plunking herself across Kyle’s thighs like the dozens of foolish women she’d watched earlier held no appeal. “I’m sure Kyle’s too tired to pose for any more pictures.” She hoped he’d play along with the excuse, but when his brows wiggled conspiratorially, she knew he intended to make her suffer the embarrassment of a cheesecake photo.

“Nonsense,” he insisted, pulling down his beard and flashing his sexy smile at Jolene. “Any man who turns down the opportunity to have a pretty woman sit in his lap isn’t tired. He’s dead.” His hand struck with the speed of a snake, snapping her into his lap. “I’m most definitely not dead,” he whispered against her ear.

During the quick tumble, her skirt flared, settling indecently high on her thighs. “You’re not dead yet,” she warned through gritted teeth. Concerned about exposing any more skin, Shayna lifted first one hip then the other, smoothing her skirt more demurely over her legs.

“Will you please settle down?”

“Not until I’m decently covered.” She faced him only to find his focus trained below her chin. Following his gaze, she realized her fidgeting had lowered the gown’s bodice.

“Okay, look over here and smile!” Jolene called.

“Wait!” Shayna twisted her shoulders away from the camera. “Don’t look,” she ordered Kyle, reaching between their bodies to pull the fabric back up over her breasts. When she felt properly covered once more, she angled her shoulders forward as she shifted her legs closer together.

Kyle cursed under his breath. The hand at her waist tightened, pulling her body snug against his, pressing her hips into the solid ridge of his arousal. She gasped and froze.

“Ready?” Jolene called. “Smile.”

The first flicker from the camera’s flash had Shayna’s lips curling upward, more from habit than happiness. Kyle’s arms wound around her, his fingers settling possessively at her waist. A wave of desire swamped her. She felt the heat sear her cheeks.

As Jolene snapped several more pictures, Shayna did her best to keep a pleasant, G-rated smile on her face, all the while praying that the camera captured only their images and none of the sparks flying between Ms. Noel and Santa.