I take another bite while Wynter scrolls.
Then she slams the phone down on the counter. “She is unbelievable. I’m not doing any of this.”
I shrug. “Then don’t. Answer every call, text and email with one word.No. Done.”
I lean over and kiss her cheek. “Then we go take a shower together, get a little frisky, get in bed, make love again, and go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow. I’ll do the dishes while you type.”
“We’re doing this again next year,” I tell Wynter as I peel off the Santa suit. “And I’m being Santa again.”
“Even after that kid spilled his bottle down your front?”
“That was… not ideal. And I hated that some kids were scared. But getting to hand each kid their gifts? Worth it. Next year lets run four shifts—one for each age group. Faster, cleaner. And your elf idea, gathering the names while the kids were in line—brilliant!”
I tug my coat on. “Come on. I want to see the kids pet the real reindeer and I want a bite of the gingerbread house before it evaporates.”
She laughs. “Next year I’m checking who I hand to you first.”
Outside, things are winding down. A handful of families linger. The mood is warm full of joy and pride. Nearly everyone stops Wynter to thank her, McDermott and Withers included.
“This proves you’re the right choice for mayor,” Mrs. Withers says, squeezing her hands. “We’ll meet next week.”
I wrap my arm around Wynter’s waist as we continue through the crowd. I don’t mind being her shadow. She is the star.
“Incoming,” Dom murmurs.
“Wynter Frost,” a sharp voice snaps. We’ve been looking everywhere. I’ve texted you three times and told you where to meet us.”
Wynter stiffens.
A heavily cosmetically-enhanced woman—her mother—glares at where my hand rests on Wynter’s waist.
“Welcome, Mrs. Frost,” I say smoothly. “Wynter was glad that you and your husband decided to come on such short notice.”
“It wasn’t my choice,” She sniffs. “Dom insisted. Thankfully the lodge had openings.”
Her eyes narrow. “Wynter, I’m very disappointed. You haven’t returned my calls, or your fiancé’s.
You have no right to ignore us like that. It’s disrespectful.”
“I’ve been very busy, Mother.”
“Too busy for your mother?”
“Mrs. Frost,” I say, “Your daughter organized this entire event, very successfully. She’s been working non-stop.”
“Please,” she scoffs. “This little thing? Obviously, she’s still floundering. She needs a real degree.”
I step closer to Wynter.
“Actually, she’s laser-focused on what matters. People. Caring. Creating solutions. She pulled this event off with only five helpers. Every family got a food basket, two if they needed it. Every child got a toy.
“She even came up with a marketing plan that helped the largest employer in town get their workers paid again. And she’s been reaching out to new businesses.
“She’s a massive success.”
Her mother gapes. “Who are you? Why do you think you know my daughter better than I do?”
“I’m the man who’s going to marry her—if she’ll have me.”
