Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

20th December.

Dean

A brush on my cheek disturbs my nap.

“I’m home,” Echo says.

I smile, relieved that he's home safely. There was a fresh dump of snow last night, and I always worry about Echo driving because he's still not used to driving in snow and ice.

“I'm glad you're home,” I murmur.

“I didn't think Randy was going to ever close. The place was rocking. But Tina protested and led a mutiny. I think Randy realized he'd gone too far.”

I frown, sitting up so that I can focus on him. “Do you want me to get Danny to say something to him?”

“I'm a big boy, Dean, and I can deal with my boss.”

I realize I might have offended Echo, and I lean forward to kiss his cheek. “I know you can, but I also know Randy, and it's always about the dollar with him.”

“He's not the worst boss I've ever had. He says if I go in early, I can have the afternoon off to go to the Bash with you.”

“That means you get less than four hours sleep.”

He shrugs. “It’s one night, and I get to be with you.”

“You gonna play Mister Elf for the last time?” I tease.

“Uh-uh. Sorry, Santa, you have a solo gig. I won’t get there in time and I’m gonna be too tired to deal with hyped-up kids.”

I’m disappointed, but at least I get to see him. Our time together over the past week has been limited.

“I’m glad to be home,” Echo says. “How's your evening been? Why are you still up.”

I give him a wry smile. My whole evening had been taking care of his princess, Ariel.

He laughs when I tell him that. “You made the mistake of sitting down, didn't you?”

“I did. I was tired when I came in and crashed out on the couch. I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up, Ariel was sitting on my chest staring down at me. She was very noisy.”

“I think she's fed up with me,” Echo admits.

I cup his cheek with one hand, smoothing my thumb along his cheekbone, and he nuzzles against me. “You look so tired. You've been working so hard this week.”

“Three more days, and I get Christmas off with you. I just keep hanging on to that. If one more girl offers me her phone number...”

I feel anger boil inside me at the thought of anyone trying to steal my man.

Echo snickers at my expression and kisses me. “You should see your face. Don't worry, big guy, I tell them that I'm already taken. I tell them that I’m Santa’s man.”

I know my cheeks are heating, but I'm reassured by his words. It turns out I'm a words kind of guy. I need to hear that Echo claims me too. “What do they say to that?”

“Some of them ask if they can watch.” He wrinkles his nose in disgust.

It's not the first time I've heard a woman say that, but normally she is drooling over someone online, not talking to a guy face-to-face. “That's just gross.”

“They're drunk,” Echo says, excusing them. “They don’t mean it. Most of them are married.”

I huff. I don’t feel so friendly toward the unknown women, especially if they are married.

“I need a shower, honey,” he says.

I've gotten used to Echo coming home stinking of beer and wings and hot sauce, and he always has a shower as soon as he gets home, saying he wants to wash off the day before he sits down with me.

Before he stands up in this case he sniffs at my hair. “Did you get a call out today?”

“No, they didn't need me today. It was a road traffic accident, out of towners not dealing with the snow. What does my hair smell like?”

“It's a kind of oily smell.” He sniffs again. “Not like car oil.”

“I slipped over on an oily patch near CC’s,” I admit, flushing at the memory.

“Are you hurt?”

“A few bruises on my butt. Nothing serious. Would you believe I was trying to avoid another dog?”

“Seriously?” Echo chuckles.

“I think Danny, of course he was with me when I landed on my ass, is suggesting make it a city ordinance that people keep their dogs on the leash.” I chuckle too. “I’m sure there’s already a leash law. I swear I remember something about it when I read the ordinances. It’s just not everyone pays attention to it. He just wants to protect me. I’m surprised he’s not smothered me in bubble wrap.”

“Wasn’t he the one who pushed you off the swing? Wait, you read the city ordinances?”

“That was a long time ago, but there’s a reason he’s a helicopter brother.” I ignore the implication I’m a sad sack who likes reading dry and dusty laws.

Echo wrinkles his nose. “I don’t think I’ve heard that term before.”

“It’s normally referred to parents, but Danny’s like that with everyone. He has to take care of people. It’s in his genes.”

Echo gets a distant look in his eyes, the same one he always gets when we talk about family. “You’re lucky to have someone who cares.”

I stand, dislodging Ariel from my lap much to her disgust, and walk around the couch to haul Echo into my arms.

“I’m okay,” he mutters. “It’s just…family.”

“I know,” I assure him. “Just stay here for a moment.”

He rests his head on my shoulder and sighs. “You always end up comforting me.”

“I like having you in my arms.”

It was true. Echo fits so perfectly in my embrace and I’d be content to stay like this forever. But he raises his head and steps back, putting space between us.

“I’m lucky. I have Aunt Hebe and Heather. They’re more family than any man needs.”

“They’re feisty broads,” I agree. “Go have your shower.”

Echo holds out his head. “Come with?”

I pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmmm. Get soapy and wet with my boyfriend or?—”

“There is no ‘or’,” he growls as he takes my hand.

That sound makes my dick perk up in anticipation. He’s all kinds of sexy when he gets growly.

As we walk out of the room, Echo brushes his fingers over the red roses I bought him the other day. He does that every time he walks past them, as if he wants to be connected to them. I’m glad I didn’t run away, which was my first instinct, especially when Barbie-Anne confronted me, trying to find out who they were for. Jed made a beautiful bouquet. He was as talented as Lucian. I’ll have to ask him to make me another one soon.

But Echo is tired and needs me to think of him, not flowers. When we clamber into the shower stall, I push him against the tiles. “Let me soap you.”

Echo closes his eyes. “I’m not gonna say no.”

I pour shampoo into my hand and work up a soapy lather before I work it into his hair.

“I’m such a lucky boy,” he murmurs as I massage his scalp.

“You like being washed?”

“I like being washed by you.”

I smile at him fondly although his eyes are still closed, and he can’t see me. I smooth the lather across his shoulders, down his muscled arms and under his armpits. Echo just lets me get on with it, relaxed and pliant. Once I’ve finished with his chest, I take more bodywash and drop to my knees to wash his thighs, calves, and feet.

He sighs and clutches onto my hair, guiding me to his thickening cock, the head deeply flushed. I look up at him, blinking as water gets in my eyes, checking I haven’t misread his message. Okay, he’s dragging me to his cock, but you know, I could have gotten it wrong.

“I need you,” he croons.

No, I’m right on track. My man wants me to blow him. I can do that.

It’s the day of the Bash, our final town celebration before Christmas and my final gig as Santa Claus. Whereas the Tree Lighting ceremony is restrained, as restrained as Collier’s Creek ever gets, the Christmas Bash is just that, an all-out excuse to have fun.

I look up at the Christmas tree as I pass by, ablaze against the snow-laden sky. Marty is always in my thoughts. What would he think of Echo? They’re nothing alike. Marty was loud and brash, always dragging me along on his escapades. He was a boy; Echo is all man. Also dragging me along on escapades.

“I wish you could meet him,” I murmur. “You two would have been a nightmare together.”

I wish Echo had been able to join me, but he had to work the early shift. At least he’ll be with me for part of the afternoon and the evening. We haven’t had many evenings together; the pitfalls of dating a bartender.

I still gasp a little at the idea I’m dating someone.

Charlotte and Suzie man the grotto, which I swear is the same one from Collier’s Creek Feed. The women tell me they’re Santa’s helpers for the afternoon. Both work in the local school, which is why they were given this gig, much to their disgust.

“I asked for anything except stuff with kids,” Charlotte grumbles. She’s pretty, with a sweet, heart-shaped face and brunette hair that doesn’t move a whisper, even in the breeze.

“Me too,” Suzie grumbles. She’s younger than us, maybe in her twenties, and has black hair, so close-cropped I can see her skull.

“I said no to being Santa,” I point out. “How did that work for the three of us?”

We look at each other and chuckle.

“We were set up!” Charlotte declares.

“Totally,” I say.

“Next year, we’ll be prepared,” Suzie agrees.

But that’s next year. This year we’ve got a lot of kids who want to see Santa.

“Your reputation is growing,” Charlotte tells me. “It’s a shame Mister Elf couldn’t be here.”

“He had to work. It’s a busy day.”

Suzie giggled suddenly. “I heard he couldn’t be here, so I made a substitute.”

She brought out a life-sized cardboard Mister Elf. Fake Echo grins at me.

My jaw drops. “What the?—”

“I know!” She giggles again. “One of my friends took a photo of him so when I heard he couldn’t be here, I got this made up special.

Echo will laugh his ass off when he sees this. I pull out my phone, move Mister Elf to beside a twinkling Rudolph and snap a photo of the pair of them, sending it to Echo.

The response is immediate. I get a screen of laughing emojis and a promise I can steal it at the end of the day.

“Echo wants me to take it home,” I say to Suzie.

She waves her hand. “He’s all yours. Go stand by him. I’ll take you with your boy.”

I bit the inside of my lip at the idea of Echo being a boy. Hadn’t we had that discussion with Will? But obediently I hand the phone to Suzie, and she takes a photo of me with my arm draped around him. I send that to him too.

Not as good as the real thing

I grin at his response. Doesn’t fart in bed

That’s Ariel

Sure it is

I look up to see Suzie and Charlotte staring at me. “What?”

“It’s good to see you so happy,” Charlotte says.

I hope my blush is hidden by the beard. “Thanks.” I don’t pretend not to know what they mean.

There’s a cough, and we all look over Charlotte’s shoulder to where a couple with two kids look hopefully at us on the other side of the rope which forms a makeshift barrier.

“Is the grotto open?” Dad asks.

I glance at Charlotte who nods.

“Santa, take your throne.”

I sit, Charlotte removes the rope, and the family approach me.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” I’m getting more enthusiastic with my ho’s as the month has progressed. “Welcome to Santa’s grotto.”

A little girl dressed in a snowsuit decorated with cheery snowmen approaches me and stands on tiptoe. I lean down to hear her.

“Where’s Mister Elf?”

“He’s at the North Pole. There was a problem with the candy canes, but he sorted it.”

She nods and sucks her thumb. Then she looks over her shoulder to her brother. “He’s at the North Pole.” She turns to me. “He was too shy to ask.”

I nod. “I can understand that. It’s a good thing he has a big sister to ask for him.”

That seems to please her, and she’s ready for her present. I let kids decide if they want to sit on my lap. Some virtually body tackle me in their haste to scramble up. Some kids will lean against me. For the shy ones I suggest we stand by Mister Elf and Rudolph to take photos. It works, and the parents are happy.

There are lots of questions from the children about the reindeer and where is Mister Elf? Why isn’t he helping Santa? I tell them all he’s at the North Pole helping the other elves, and that seems to satisfy them. I get a few knowing looks from their parents, but I ignore them.

I’m just about thinking it’s time for a hot chocolate and a cake when a girl skips toward me. I smile at her, look up and face…

Marty’s parents.

They stare at me.

I stare at them.

“Santa?”

I turn to Charlotte. “I…uh…”

“Is everything all right?” she asks worriedly, clearly concerned about the sudden tension in the grotto.

I cough. “Yes, sorry.”

I turn to the girl. “Ho! Ho! Ho! Welcome to Santa’s grotto.”

She chatters away to me, not shy at all. Just like Marty used to be. This has to be their grandchild. She’s too much like her uncle. All the while Marty’s parents stare at me like they’ve seen a ghost.

“Dean, it’s been a long time,” Marty’s mom says.

Her granddaughter tugs on her coat. “Not Dean, Mawmaw, this is Santa.”

The woman ignores her. She’s still staring at me, her expression hostile. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Where else am I going to be? I live in Collier’s Creek. It’s the Bash. Of course I’ll be here.

“Ma’am. Sir.” I nod to them both. “It’s been a long time.”

“Twenty years,” she said. “It’s good to see you’ve moved on.”

Moved on from what? Mourning their son? I want to laugh bitterly. Like I’ve ever moved on from the moment of the accident. Then I catch sight of the cut-out of Mister Elf, of Echo’s smiling face.

Marty’s mom follows my gaze. “I heard about Santa and Mister Elf. I didn’t realize it was you.”

I flinch at twenty years of accusation in her tone.

“I’m afraid Santa is busy,” Charlotte says firmly and ushers them to the exit.

They leave without a backward glance. I’m not sure if I’m happy about that or not.

“Who was that?” Suzie asks, looking concerned.

“My past.”

I finish the session in a daze. I don’t think anyone notices. I fake a smile until I feel my face is fixed in place. Bless them, Charlotte and Suzie take care of me, bringing me hot chocolate, making sure I’m all right.

Finally it’s all over and I can run home and hide. But Charlotte rushes toward me.

“Dean…Santa, we have so many children wanting to see you, please can you do another hour?”

I stare at her in dismay. That’s the last thing I want to do.

Charlotte obviously sees my hesitation. “I’m sorry, we misjudged how many kids would want to see you. You and Mister Elf have been a hit this year.”

I take a deep breath. I can’t let the kids down. “Okay. One more session. But I need a break. I’m really cold.”

That’s the truth. I’m cold to the bone, body and soul.

But Charlotte’s eyes light up. “Thanks, Santa. I’ll say you’ll be back in an hour. There’ll be another candy cane crisis at the North Pole.”

If only my problem was as easy as that. Can Santa fix a crisis of the heart?

I put on my coat and gloves and slip away from the grotto, waving at a few people I know. I need to talk to Echo. It’s time I’m honest with him and myself. I’m a screwup, and I can’t hold down a relationship with a guy like Echo. He’s too good for me. He needs someone who can love him whole-heartedly, not someone frozen in time like me.

Marty’s parents were wrong about me. I’ve never moved on. I’m as stuck in time as they are, and maybe that’s the way it should be. Echo deserves better, and I need to tell him. He’ll soon move on. People always do.