Holly gave the girl a wave. “Take care, sweetie.”
The girl sent Alex a meaningful look. “Only Santa should be kissing Mrs. Claus.” And she took off.
“Guess she told me.” Alex chuckled.
They continued with their deliveries. As they drove through the neighborhood, he took note of the holiday yard decorations. There were no Frosty the Snowmen, no ice sculptures.
Instead, people strung Christmas lights on their palm trees, hung Santa caps on their pink flamingo lawn ornaments. One house showcased elf statues in swim suits beside a kiddie pool, while another had straw reindeer with red bows tied to their antlers lining the driveway. Florida had its own sense of Christmas.
Alex watched as each family greeted Holly as if she were an angel. Everyone hugged and clung to her and thanked her profusely.
A sense of purpose warmed him from the inside out. Today was all about sharing, connecting, and making a difference. He got into the groove, hummed “Joy to the World.”
Following their last delivery, Holly leaned back against the seat and sighed. Her shoulders sagged and tiredness showed in her eyes. Silence settled like an old friend between them. Alex had never felt so comfortable with a woman, so compatible.
Stifling a yawn, she slid off her white wig and granny glasses. “Thanks for your help.”
“I make a great chauffeur.”
“You’re a good man, Alex Boxer.”
Her words surprised him. Women had called him arrogant, cocky, sexy, and desirable, but never decent. He liked the fact that Holly thought well of him. He wasn’t, however, certain he deserved her praise.
“I’m prone to be bad,” he warned. “I can be selfish as hell, and I don’t believe in monogamy.”
“Then you’ve yet to sleep with the right woman.”
Maybe, maybe not. He’d bed-hopped since he was sixteen. Relationships came and went. He liked one-nighters. Two weekends in a row gave him the willies. Dating someone for an entire month felt as suffocating as an engagement.
“Ready to sing some Christmas carols?” she asked.
“I’m not known for carrying a tune outside the shower,” he admitted as he followed her directions to the community center.
The entire town had turned out to sing “Jingle Bells,” Alex noted, as he scanned the meeting hall. A pianist pounded out the jolly rendition. Everyone from grandparents to babies shook bells in time to the music.
The song was loud and a little off-key, but no one seemed to care. It was all about smiles and spirit and being together.
Holly was immediately drawn into the crowd, while Alex edged back. He found a space against the far wall. He had no desire to be the center of attention, he only wanted to observe.
Someone handed him a paper cup with holiday fruit punch along with a frosted oatmeal-raisin cookie. He figured this was dinner.
During “O Christmas Tree,” he spotted Holly surrounded by her friends and family. One of those relatives was her uncle. During a break in the music, Holly whispered in Judge Hathaway’s ear. Alex instinctively knew she spoke on his behalf. She was asking her uncle to shorten his community hours by two days.
Hathaway rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. He turned to pin Alex with his darkest judicial stare.
A tall man passed in front of Holly and the judge, blocking Alex’s view of Hathaway’s reply. Alex had no idea whether her uncle nodded or shook his head. He’d have to wait for Holly to join him to get Hathaway’s answer.
She came to him during “Silent Night.” The room had grown still, the mood solemn, holy. The voices blended, and people reached out, held hands. Holly laced her fingers with his, her palm soft and warm. A sweet gesture, Alex thought, as he gently squeezed her hand.
Once the song ended, the crowd slowly dispersed, and Alex followed Holly back to her Volkswagen. He tossed her the keys, let her drive. Once inside the vehicle, she turned to him. A hint of sadness darkened her eyes before she straightened her shoulders and put on a stiff upper lip.
“The judge has pardoned you,” she told him, “on the condition you play Santa for one more day. Afterward, you can pick up your sports car. You can be in Miami by early eve ning.”
Freedom. Alex’s heart beat with a sense of relief. He would soon be gone. No more sweaty, sticky red velvet Santa suit, no more peppermint, no more sleeping in a tiny loft meant for elves.
No more Holly.
His chest heaved and his stomach suddenly hurt; he felt a little nauseous. He should be shouting, pumping his arms, yet an unidentifiable loss settled in his chest, compelling him to breathe deeply.
He’d been in Holiday too long, he decided. He’d allowed the Christmas spirit to sink bone deep. He locked his jaw, forced his life back on track. Small town was not his style; he liked the restless pulse of bright lights and big cities. South Beach was calling his name.
“Thanks for pleading my case,” he finally said.
It was the end of the road. Neither spoke until they reached the Jingle Bell Shop. It was Holly who broke the silence. “See you in the morning,” she said as he got out of the VW. “Tomorrow will go fast, Alex. You’ll be on your way in no time.”
Alex’s run as Santa ended with two kids peeing on his left leg, one right after the other. Holly had warned him it could happen, and it finally had, just as he was wrapping up the day. He couldn’t wait to shed his Santa suit.
He stripped before her in the storeroom, down to his gray boxer briefs. He was hot, sweaty, and in desperate need of a shower. He wanted to talk to Holly before he left. She’d put up with him during Christmas week, even when he’d been an ass, which was all too often.
“You sticking around?” he asked.
She stood in her nutcracker outfit, minus the big wooden head. “I’ll give you a ride to impound so you can pick up your car.”
“Give me ten minutes.” He took off for the loft.
Holly McIntyre felt her chest tighten. Her body suddenly ached, and she didn’t have the energy to change into her street clothes. She’d drive Alex to the lot, then clean up afterward. Her cousin Hank had agreed to switch from Moose to Santa following Alex’s departure.
She needed to stop off at the dry cleaners and have the costume cleaned; a trip to the grocery store was also necessary. She made a mental list of all she needed to accomplish. If she didn’t stay busy, she’d crumble.
He came downstairs, handsome in a blue polo and jeans, an athletic bag in hand. She tried to smile but failed. She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.