Santa Baby Read online

  Santa Baby

  by JC Valentine

  Copyright © 2017 by J.C. Valentine

  This book is a work of fiction: The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. They are not being presented or implied as real or factual. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. Please be aware, this work of fiction is not even based loosely on any culture that ever existed.

  All rights reserved: No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations and embodied in critical articles and reviews. We thank you in advance for your kind cooperation in this regard.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content, adult situations, and some graphic and descriptive language. It also contains concepts pared in novel ways, which may be offensive to some readers. It is being sold with the understanding that it may be considered erotica and therefore may not appeal to all readers equally. This book is intended for the enjoyment of adults only.

  Books by

  J.C. VALENTINE

  Night Calls

  Stranded

  That First Kiss

  Surrender to Love

  Trust

  Wayward Fighters

  Knockout

  Tapout

  unDefeated

  Blue Collar

  Sweetest Temptations

  Noel: A Blue Collar Christmas

  Forbidden

  Dance for Me

  Lie to You

  Fall for Him

  Forbidden Valentine

  Spartan Riders

  Grit

  Mettle

  Vigor

  Brash

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Sunny’s outlook on the holidays isn’t so merry, but when she gets roped into playing Mrs. Claus for the local hospital, she discovers Christmas miracles aren’t just reserved for the children.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  What to say...It’s been a hell of a year! If you’ve been following me on social media, then you know life has thrown me my fair share of curveballs. It was SO HARD to work through it all to get to this point while I tried to regain my edge. I think I’ve got it back now, and I’m so proud to be able to deliver this hot and spicy new series to you, my readers! Thank you so much for your kindness and patience. You’re the best <3

  I would be remiss if I didn’t thank my family and friends. Mom, Mitzi, Mia, Holly, Cheryl: you have been the anchors in my life. You’ve kept me strong, even through (numerous) moments of self-doubt. You’ve kept me focused and cheered me on every step of the way. Thank you for never losing faith in me even when I did. There aren’t enough words in the world to describe how much I love and appreciate you.

  Finally, I have to thank my kids, because they’re my driving force in this world. Everything I do, I do for you!

  Chapter One

  How did I get talked into this? Looking back, I know exactly where things went sideways. I should have skipped that last mimosa.

  It started with Roberta’s retirement party. She wasn’t exactly the likable sort—kind of stodgy, rigid. But she was also like everyone’s grandmother, which is why everyone tolerated her. That and she made an amazing pineapple upside-down cake that made everyone look forward to the monthly potluck.

  I would miss those cakes, but Roberta was eloping with some Polynesian guy she’d met in one of those outdoor yoga sessions, and apparently, it was love at first downward dog.

  So yeah...

  Seventy-year-old Roberta found love, and here I am, thirty-four, single as a Pringle, and not a prospect in sight. Hence the drinking. And also why I’m standing here in front of the storage closet while Travis rummages through dusty old boxes to find the Santa outfit I somehow got roped into wearing.

  I am severely displeased.

  The first thing I did when I arrived at the office this morning while nursing a hangover was tried to get out of it. Travis wouldn’t hear of it. Apparently, every year they get some poor schmuck to agree to dress up and play Santa to the kids down at the children’s hospital, and it usually falls to the newest member of the team.

  Since I was hired in just after the New Year, that poor, unsuspecting fool happens to be me.

  Plus, I’m the only one, supposedly, who doesn’t have out-of-town plans. I’m “it” by default on more than one level.

  Lucky me.

  “Found it!”

  I snap to attention as Travis climbs over boxes on his way over to me, holding a mass of red fabric over his head like a trophy.

  I groan, depressed at the thought of having to put that thing on. I can already smell the mothballs. “Just what I need to make it look like I put on an extra fifty pounds instead of ten.” It’s a holiday tradition, eating cookies and fudge and pies. My sweet tooth cannot be denied, so every year I pack on a little extra insulation to get me through the cold winter months.

  Travis gives me a flirty smile and wink as he hands over what I now realize is a lot less red than I’d originally thought. “You’ll look anything but fat in this, trust me.”

  The way he said that makes me completely distrustful of him. Narrowing my eyes, I reluctantly accept the offering, shaking it out as I say suspiciously, “What is that supposed to me—oh...”

  This is not the Santa suit I’d expected. It’s...well... “I think you went to the wrong costume shop, little buddy,” I say sarcastically, because this has to be a joke. “I think you need to go back in there and find the rest of it.”

  Travis’s smile is positively wicked now. “That is the rest of it.”

  My eyes widen, and I look at it again. “Where did you find this thing, Strippers R Us? I can’t wear this!”

  Like the asshole big-brother-type that he is, Travis playfully pokes the end of my nose. “You sure can, hon, and you’ll do it with a smile on your face and merry little laugh, too.” Closing up the closet, he locks it back up and brushes by me. “Make sure you dry-clean that thing before you put it on. It’s been around the block a few times.”

  His mockingly jolly laugh makes me want to sprint after him, tackle him to the floor and jab my elbow into his ribs a few times. But as much as we were all family, office violence was just as frowned upon by human resources as workplace romances.

  I’d just have to find my revenge another way. Until I did, it looked as though I was cursed to play Mrs. Santa.

  Chapter Two

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I screech. Eager to get home and put the trials of the day behind me, I’d picked up the suit from the dry cleaner and didn’t take the time to properly inspect it.

  At first, I thought I was seeing things, maybe gotten eye damage somehow and my perception was off. So, I laid the thing out on the dining table...only to find that no, I wasn’t seeing it wrong.

  “I’m going to cry,” I say, my voice trembling.

  My roommate and childhood friend, Bianca, who’s standing beside me, angles her head. “What’s wrong with it?” she asks, truly baffled over why I’m so upset.

  I thrust out my hand. The whole damn suit is evidence of everything that’s wrong. “It shrunk!” I yell. “It’s half the size it was when Travis gave it to me, and I thought that was bad.”

  She looks at it again, as if trying to see it with fresh eyes. “Huh. Well, I still don’t see anything wrong with it. It’s cute.”

  “Cute? Cute! It’s a nightmare!” I shout, railing over this insanity. How in the world did the dry cleaner manage to shrink the damn thing? Wasn’t that their job, to prevent such things from happening?

  “You’re being overly dramatic, Sunny. It’s cute and sexy a
nd you’re going to look great it in. You’ll have guys drooling over you.”

  With a huff, I say, “That’s just the problem, Bianca. I’m not wearing it to a Christmas party. It’s for a children’s benefit at the hospital. I’m supposed to be Mrs. Claus giving away Christmas presents, not teaching them sex ed!”

  She scrunches her nose and says, “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh.” I sigh. This isn’t good. It’s Friday. It’s the dead of winter on a holiday weekend and that means there’s a rush on all the stores for last-minute items. The chances of me finding an appropriate replacement suit are slim to none.

  But I’m sure as hell gonna try.

  “Do me a favor,” I tell Bianca as I fish my phone from my purse and hit the app for the internet search engine. “Get on the computer and find me all the numbers for area costume shops.”

  Tipping her head, she rushes over to the desk we have set up in the corner of the living room as our communal work station. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to call all the retail stores and see if anyone has a suit left.”

  Her eyebrows lift as she turns to the computer screen and starts furiously typing away. She doesn’t have to say it for me to know what that look is about. We both know this is a long shot. Unfortunately, I’m low on options and almost out of time.

  “I’m so sending Travis a glitter bomb for Christmas,” I grumble as I call a nearby store and am immediately put on hold. Nothing like smooth jazz to calm frazzled nerves. Not!

  ***

  I lay in my bed, sighing in frustration every few minutes, hoping one of these times the action will result in blowing off some steam. It’s not working.

  Bianca and I had zero luck finding a replacement costume, which means I now have to wear that ridiculous outfit. I can feel my face turning red already. This is going to be the single most humiliating night of my life.

  I glance over at the chair in the corner where I draped the sorry excuse for a suit. I swear it’s laughing at me. Travis is most definitely laughing at me, the prick. Good thing I was able to put in a rush order on that glitter bomb. Passive-aggressiveness for the win! The thought of his shock and dismay when he receives my surprise is the only thing that can bring a smile to my face right now. I only wish I could be there to witness it.

  My gaze drifts to the picture on my dresser. It’s of my ex-boyfriend, Kyle. The epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, he was my high school sweetheart. We dated from ninth grade to our first year of college when, after pledging to one of those asinine frat houses, he was spotted making out with one of the sorority sisters one drunken night.

  I didn’t need to see it happen to believe it, because he told me himself about the infamous lip lock. He didn’t fess up to the “something more” going around the rumor mill, but the confession was more than enough for me to drop him like a bad habit.

  Unfortunately, though I cut him off like dead weight, my heart continued to hold on for dear life.

  Even all these years later.

  I’ll never understand why I can’t shake that man. He’s never far from my thoughts, but I’ve long since stopped trying to figure out why. Sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be. Despite the way things ended, I can’t bring myself to obliterate his memory, which is why I keep his picture on my dresser. Something about that smiling face still warms me.

  Bianca calls it avoidance. She thinks I hold onto him to excuse myself from moving on and finding happiness. I think she needs to stop trying to shrink me. We’ve argued circles around each other, and we’ve yet to come to a mutual agreement on the matter. One day, happiness will find me, I’m certain of it.

  Shaking off the melancholy that threatens to dig its claws into me, I roll over, turning my back to the memories and the embarrassment of what’s soon to come.

  I dread going to that children’s hospital, but I refuse to back out. Never have I been one to run away from an uncomfortable situation. So, I’m forging ahead. Those kids were promised a visit from Mrs. Claus, and I refuse to let them down. I’m going to rock the hell out of that Mrs. Claus suit, and I’m going to have fun doing it.

  Chapter Three

  My ass is dangerously close to playing peekaboo. I self-consciously run my palm down my backside again as I walk into the hospital, flashing a friendly but tight smile at the receptionist as I head for the bank of elevators.

  The older woman seems nice enough, but I see the way she looks me over, and I imagine she’s disapproving. But that might just be my paranoia talking. Bianca assured me that I don’t look trashy. “New-age Mrs. Claus” she called it, promising me it was just a more updated version—fresh and new.

  My choice was to either suck it up and go or cancel, and I wasn’t about to cancel, so here I am, riding the elevator up to the third-floor children’s wing with a red sack slung over my shoulder and butterflies raging in my stomach, praying for the best.

  Tomorrow, when I join my family for Christmas dinner, I’m going to reward myself with enough pie and extra whipped topping to make me sick.

  The crushed red velvet skirt floats away from my body with each step I take as I make my way down the hall toward the central nurse’s station. The sensation keeps me hyperaware as I approach, hoping that I don’t offend anyone. Honestly, Bianca is probably right. I’m not exactly inappropriate here. It’s not as if I’m giving a show, but this dress would be much more appropriate for an adult-themed Christmas party than a children’s gathering.

  The nurse manning the station is a plain Jane type, her brown hair pulled back in a severe bun on top of her head, the glaring overhead lights washing her out. She’s pretty, though—her features slim and petite. When she sees me coming, she gives me a quick assessment, but I don’t see any judgment in her welcoming smile.

  She just looks tired.

  “You must be the entertainment,” she says with a laugh.

  I smile sardonically as I heft the present-filled bag over my shoulder and set it on the floor. It hadn’t felt too heavy when I started carrying it, but the weight seemed to increase on my way up here. Rubbing my sore shoulder where the thick drawstring rope dug in, I say cheerily, “That would be me.”

  “Great outfit. I could never pull that off.”

  I look down at myself and brush my hands down my midsection. “I’m not so sure that I am, but thanks.”

  “You definitely are,” she assures me. “The kids are going to go crazy when they see you.”

  “Just as long as the parents don’t,” I joke.

  The look in her eyes tells me she understands my meaning and my worry, but she waves a dismissive hand through the air. “No worries. Everyone is just looking forward to having a little fun, take their minds off things for a bit. Here, follow me. I’ll show you where you can set up.”

  Setting aside a stack of colored folders, she rounds the overlarge, U-shaped station and leads the way down a network of long hallways. By nature, I’m not fond of hospitals. The menagerie of smells and sounds disturbs me somewhat, though I don’t truly understand why. I’ve never had a bad experience, nothing to bring me to one to warrant the feeling. But I guess it’s a common thing for people to feel that way. Hospitals aren’t exactly comfy and cozy.

  I peek in open doorways as we pass them, seeing children of all ages in their beds, some covered in tubes and wires, machines beeping steadily at their besides, and others looking perfectly cheerful, only their bald heads giving away their condition.

  I feel instantly sad, knowing that all of them have a story, a personal trauma that no amount of presents and smiles and “ho-ho-hos” are going to make better.

  But maybe—hopefully—I can help them to forget just for a little while.

  When we reach a large room where two corridors meet, I follow her over to a large Christmas tree that’s been decorated with handmade items, all obviously crafted by the kids in the unit. Multi-colored paper chains wrap around it from top to bottom, ornaments made from foam and construction paper, and
even pictures of the kids in clear glass ornaments hang from every limb. Beside the tree are two metal folding chairs, and she points to one.

  “Since you got here first, you can pick which one you want.”

  I smile in confusion. “First?”

  “Mr. Claus is running late, as usual.”

  My brows pull together and I know I’m giving her a funny look. “I don’t understand.” Travis had led me to believe this was a solo gig.

  Dawning washing over her features and the nurse says, “Oh, they didn’t tell you. We have a Mr. Claus who’s a regular each year. He’s been coming for...oh...five years now?” She looks at the ceiling in contemplation, purses her lips, and nods, seemingly satisfied with her estimation. “Anyway, he’s great. He really gets into character, and the kids love him. He’s a big hit. Not too hard on the eyes either,” she says with a wink.

  So I won’t be the only one doing this thing tonight. Great. I’m actually thrilled to hear that, since I haven’t the first clue how to go about this whole thing. I was planning on winging it, but now I’ll have a seasoned veteran to guide the way. And a good-looking one at that, from the sound of it.

  “Great,” I say enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

  The nurse beams. “Well, he should be here shortly.” After consulting with her watch, she says, “Well, I need to get back to my rounds, but go ahead and set up, explore, get comfortable. If you get thirsty or want a snack, there’re a couple vending machines just around the corner.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I watch her leave, some of my nerves returning as I stand there alone and take in the expansive room. The stark tiles and overhead lighting suck the warmth right out of the room, despite the effort that went into making it inviting. No amount of decorations can make up for the fact that this is a place where the sick and dying reside.