Page 38 of Naughty or Nice?
He grins, giving another squeeze of my hand. “You know better than that, darling. St. Nick comes out later for his milk and cookies.”
I’m well aware that Nicholas isn’t kidding. I wouldn’t want him to be.
For the rest of the evening, we sit with the family and eat until our stomachs are full. Once we’ve dined on the main courses, we gradually move onto eggnog, spiced cider, mulled wine, and an array of desserts.
It’s a night that I’m grateful for as we celebrate Christmas for hours. The holiday that started out as the worst of my life has become one of the best. In short, for no other reason than the wonderful man seated beside me.
St. Nick truly does make Christmas miracles come true.
CHAPTER 13
Nicholas
ONE YEAR LATER…
“Merry Christmas,Nick! You and the family have a good one,” says Mr. Baker, one of the last customers for the night.
I wave him off and then glance around the rest of the barroom. It’s me and the twinkling Christmas lights and no one else.
All my regulars that have stopped by have officially left to be with their families.
It’s no wonder—in a few hours it’ll be Christmas. The entire town of Morrow will be happily celebrating the holiday.
The Whittler family are no different. Amy has decided to lead the festivities this year, spearheading family events like our Christmas morning gift exchange and our evening feast. I’ve never been prouder of my girls; they take after Laura more and more each day.
My children have always made me proud. They must still make Laura proud as she watches over all of us.
Over the next fifteen minutes, I clean up the bar and ensure everything’s locked up. It’s started flurrying outside, the flakes dusting the roads. I shrug on my jacket and flick off the lights. I’m one of the only cars on the road driving home.
Or more like the place that’s become my private haven.
While the rest of the family is at the main house celebrating, I’m headed to the small house on the other side of town. The same house I once used as an Airbnb.
These days it’s closer to being Santa’s workshop than anything.
I park in the drive, getting out to collect my bag of goodies from the back of my Range Rover. I’ve changed out of my usual flannel and jeans and put on a different kind of costume.
From this point on, I’m no longer Nicholas Whittler.
I’m St. Nick.
The flames in the fireplace crackle as I unlock the front door and enter. The house is resoundingly silent. A sense of calm lingers in the air.
I grin and head for the staircase, the large bag slung over my shoulder.
The door to the master bedroom is cracked open. I press my eye against the crevice and take a peek inside the room.
The gorgeous woman I’m looking for is in her slinky little nightie, prepping for bed. The satin fabric stops at her upper thighs, barely covering her plump ass.
I lick my lips and nudge the door the rest of the way open.
Kendall glances up with eyes widening. The shock that flashes across her pretty face almost makes me chuckle.
“Ho, ho, ho,” I growl, the corner of my lip quirking. “Guess who’s back with his naughty and nice list?”
She can barely contain her own smile, biting down on her lip. “I’ve been good, St. Nick. I promise I have.”
“I’m not so sure about that, darling.” I hook her by the waist, drawing her closer. “I’ve heard you’ve been a very, very naughty woman. Sit down on the bed and close your eyes.”