“What is it?”
“I was wondering if you’d be Santa.” Her face squeezes in timid apprehension.
“Santa?” I repeat, making sure I heard her correctly. “Is this another ploy for you to convince me to leave? Because if you couldn’t scare me away with dancing, I doubt—”
“Not at all. I swear to you. If it were for a normal photo opportunity, I wouldn’t even bother. But this afternoon is the kid’s carnival.”
“Kid’s carnival?”
“Every year, I invite over a hundred area foster kids to the ranch for some holiday cheer. This time of year can be difficult for them. The kids get to meet Santa, something many of them aren’t able to do without this opportunity.”
I blink repeatedly. “They don’t get to meet Santa otherwise?”
“You know what? Forget it.” She huffs out a breath, the vein in her forehead throbbing in irritation. “I should have known you wouldn’t give a shit. Grinch.”
She spins, her blonde waves practically whipping me from the force of her abrupt movement. But before she can retreat, I grab her arm, pushing down the jolt of electricity that shoots through me from the contact, regardless of the barrier of our clothing.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just… It didn’t dawn on me that some kids don’t get to meet Santa.”
She yanks her arm free from my hold. “Well, when you don’t have money, or are in foster care, you miss out on a lot of stuff most kids take for granted. Like meeting Santa. So if you’ll excuse me, I need to find someone to be Santa so these kids can experience one good thing this holiday season.”
She storms off, my new friends watching us with interest. As if this is the most exciting thing to happen in months.
For them, it probably is.
It’s much more exciting than listening to Walter tell us about the ingrown toenail he had removed last week.
“I’ll do it,” I call out before I can stop myself.
Parker skids to a halt, not moving for several moments. Then she slowly faces me.
“Are you sure?” She steps toward me, her voice low. “This is really important to me, Callum. I don’t need you to agree to this, then tell these kids Santa isn’t real and that all this Christmas stuff is bullshit. Trust me. That is the last thing they need when their hope in anything good is hanging by a thread as it is.”
I approach her, not willing to admit I’d agree to anything if it meant I could hear her call me Callum again.
“I would never do that.” I push a wayward curl behind her ear. “Every kid deserves to believe in Santa.”
Our eyes lock. “Yes, they do.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
I lean toward her. “That you change out of that outfit.”
She furrows her brow, glancing down at her body. “But this is my elf costume. I wear it every year for the kid’s carnival.”
“And I appreciate that. But if you’re going to be in the same room where I’m playing Santa and having kids sit on my lap, Ireallyneed you to wear something else.”
“Why?” The crease on her forehead grows even more. “I don’t…” She trails off, her eyes widening, jaw going slack as the realization hits her. “Oh.” She bites on her lower lip again, trying to fight against her smile. A blush blooms on her cheeks, and I have a feeling it has nothing to do with the chilly temperature.
She lifts her eyes back to mine. “Okay, Mr. Reed. I’ll change into something else.”
“Thank you.” I expel a relieved breath, grateful I won’t be permanently scarring any kids today.
Then again, Parker Holley could probably wear a paper sack and I’d be just as attracted to her.
CHAPTERELEVEN
