36

The smash is so loud it could have woken the dead.

Sitting up suddenly, I freeze, clutching my bedding to my chest as I wait to hear if something had really crashed through my ceiling as I’d thought, or I’d just dreamt it.

A loud groan confirms it was no dream.

Running downstairs in my fleecy Christmas pyjamas, I stop frozen at the base of the stairs and stare at the chaos. My living room looks like a disaster zone, and right at its core are nine frightened reindeer and an upside-down sleigh.

“Your ceiling wasn’t as strong as it should have been,” a familiar voice groans from under the rubble.

“Chris?”

Stepping over electrical wires, smashed plaster, broken timbers and bags of toys, I lean down to see the face of the man who I’ve missed so badly it hurts.

“Ho, ho, ho,” he groans, “Merry Christmas.”

Reaching down, I grasp his outstretched, white-gloved hand and pull him from the rubble.

As he slowly rises, I gasp and step back.

“That’s where you disappeared to last Christmas? You’re really Santa?”

“One and the same,” he sighs, looking up.

His gorgeous eyes, when they meet mine, are soft and full of the admiration I’d always seen in them.

“I thought to drop in a present and leave before you or your husband noticed, but apparently ‘drop in’ was an understatement.”

I laugh quietly and shake my head.

“Yeah, well, my builder was a bit of a novice. You could sue, I guess, but he hasn’t been around for about twelve months. I’m not even sure if he’s still in business.”

“Oh, he’s in business,” Chris grins, stepping forward and wrapping me in a bear hug. “He’s running a workshop now, one of the biggest in the world, in fact.”

“God help us,” I murmur into his big red coat.

He laughs again, a loud ‘ho, ho, ho’ and I can’t help but giggle, although the lump in my throat is fast threatening to choke me.

“I’ve missed you,” he says gently, staring down into my eyes.

“And I’ve missed you,” I swallow hard, tears welling, “more than you could ever know.”

He frowns and steps back.

“Why the tears, Merri? You had your Christmas wish granted. Your husband returned. I thought to find the house covered in twinkling lights; instead I had to rely on Rudolf’s assertion he knew how to find you.”

“It’s a long story,” I sigh, “but the quick version is that I realised James wasn’t who I really wanted.”

“Oh?”

“No, it turns out he was a selfish, lying son-of-bitch who I couldn’t forgive after all. And apparently I’d become accustomed to being treated as someone valued and admired. I knew I wouldn’t be happy allowing him back into my life; I signed the divorce papers on Christmas Day as a present to myself. The kids haven’t quite forgiven me yet, but I know they’ll come around. Anyway, it’s not all bad news,” I sniff and wipe my tears on my sleeve, “I refocussed on my business…”

“And got another pet,” he points to the frightened creatures staring over the balustrade. “Is that a racoon?”

“Yes. I rescued him. But that’s another story.”

“I could say the same,” he says as he makes his way to the kitchen bench. “I took on the job I was sent to do and rescued some reindeer.”

A loud indignant snort from one of the creatures makes us both laugh.

“Sorry boy,” Chris smirks, “I’ll get you out of this mess shortly, I promise.”

I feel a clench in my chest at the thought he’s going to leave so soon after just arriving, before I can tell him how I really feel about him. But at the same time, I know his world is not mine any longer, if it ever was. He has a new role and no place for me within it.

“I suppose a gin would be out of the question?”

“Should Santa really drink?”

“Perk of the job,” he smirks, “you wouldn’t believe how much alcohol and cookies I’ve consumed tonight.”

I shake my head.

“So, your job,” he says quietly as he retrieves two crystal glasses and a knife as though he’d always lived here, and slowly carves up strawberries. “It sounds like you’ve found your creativity again.”

“Yes,” I nod, taking the glass but unable to drink as, once again, that lump in my throat threatens to choke me. “Thanks to you.”

“And could you work from anywhere? Or must you continue here, in your backyard workshop?”

‘Where is this going?’

“I could work from anywhere,” I shrug, “I guess.”

“Because, you know, my workshop is much bigger.”

“I’m sure it is,” I smirk, taking a sip and feeling the panic in my chest beginning to dissipate in his always-jovial presence.

“And I could definitely use someone to practice my nailing with.”

“Last time I looked you had no issue in that regard,” I give him a rueful look, “and don’t tell me there’s no one in the North Pole who could help you practice.”

“Sadly, no,” he shrugs, “no ho’s at the pole.”

I splutter on my drink, spilling some onto my pyjama shirt.

“You really haven’t changed.”

“You have,” he says, suddenly serious. “You’ve found yourself, Merri. Just like I said you would. Did you really miss me?”

“How can you even ask?” I whisper. “I’ve never forgiven myself for what I said on Christmas Eve, Chris. How it must have hurt you. I didn’t want James back. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I said that. It was you I wanted.”

‘It’s you I still want.’

“Then join me,” he says, his eyes not leaving mine. “Because not a day has gone past where I haven’t mourned leaving this house. Without you, I feel lost. Marry me, Merri, become Mrs Santa.”

“Marry you?” I shake my head. “Do you even know what you’re asking?”

“A leap of faith. I’m asking you to trust that this man won’t ever leave you. To trust that I want to spend an eternity with you smashing my thumbs and pretending I like children during the day and keeping warm with you at night. And it will be an eternity. You’ll never age, Merri. You and I will be together for a thousand years or more.”

“Oh, Chris.”

Crying out, I launch myself into his arms, squeezing him tight, not ever wanting to let him go as he wraps his strong arms around me, rests his chin on my head, and holds me against his hard, hard chest.

“Yes,” I whisper, “Yes I’ll marry you and become Mrs Santa.”

His arms tighten, and we stay holding one another for a long, long time, before eventually I pull back slightly to look up into his twinkling eyes.

“Let’s get into my sleigh and finish tonight’s job,” he grins, “because I can’t wait to wed and bed you.”

“Wed and bed,” I laugh as he scoops me up and carries me to his sleigh, “now that sounds like a Christmas wish come true.”

“You can sit on my knee later and tell me everything you’d like for Christmas,” he laughs, pausing midway to the sleigh and looking up at the doorframe. “Still up from last year?”

I flick my eyes to the mistletoe.

“It holds some memories,” I whisper, “of the one who got away.”

“And came back. I love you, Merri.”

“And I love you, Santa.”

His eyes are liquid in their sincerity as he claims my lips in a long, slow, lazy kiss that builds from soft to red hot and hard. My knees are weak by the time he draws away, so it’s lucky he’s still holding me.

“I’ll never get enough of your kisses,” I whisper. “I’ve dreamt of them every night since you left.”

“Only the kisses?” he raises a sardonic eyebrow. “Tame dreams, Merri. I’m looking forward to showing you what I missed. Unfortunately I’ll have to take a raincheck or there will be a lot of disappointed little people tonight.”

“We can’t have that,” I grin.

“But hold that thought, future Mrs Santa.”

“Oh, I will,” I murmur, leaning up to bite him gently on the lower lip.

“Woman,” he growls, “I need to actually be able to walk to do this job.”

Depositing me gently into the seat, he pauses to plant kisses on my forehead, cheeks and finally, my lips.

“Wait, the fur babies.”

“Already on board, ready to join their two friends in the South Pole. I told you, pussies just can’t resist me. I’ve got two dozen tigers and a bedroom full of cougars waiting for me, you know.”

I roll my eyes and playfully punch his arm.

“Bullshit.”

“God,” he sighs, “I’ve missed you.”

I return his grin as he runs around to jump into the seat beside me and raise the reins.

“Now hang on, it’s going to be a bumpy start. You know how I am at driving.”

“Oh, Christ,” I roll my eyes, gripping the side of the sleigh as the reindeer rise up through the hole in my roof. “Assuming we don’t crash and die, where to first?” I shout as we breach the building and hurl Heaven-wards.

“I thought we might visit a little girl called Joeline and restore her faith in Santa. Then James,” he shouts back, his eyes twinkling, “I’m sure I’ve got an Adam’s Family DVD in here somewhere.”

I shake my head as we both laugh and soar into the stars.