Genres: Christmas, Contemporary, Holiday, New Adult, Novella, Romance, Second Chance Romance
Santa Baby, A Christmas Short Story
by J.C. Valentine
Publication Date: December 6, 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Short Story, Holiday, Steamy, Romance
ABOUT J.C. VALENTINE
J.C. Valentine is the USA Today and International bestselling author of the Night Calls and Wayward Fighters Series and the Forbidden Trilogy. Her vivid imagination and love of words and romance had her penning her own romance stories from an early age, which, despite being poorly edited and written longhand, she forced friends and family members to read. No, she isnât sorry.
Living in the Northwest, she has three amazing children and far too many pets. Among the many hats she wears, J.C. is an entrepreneur. Having graduated with honors, she holds a Bachelorâs in English and when she isnât writing, you can find her editing for fellow authors.
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ENTER THE GIVEAWAY
SANTA BABY EXCERPT
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 Robertaâs retirement party. She wasnât exactly the likable sortâkind of stodgy, rigid. But she was also like everyoneâs 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 sheâd met in one of those outdoor yoga sessions, and apparently, it was love at first downward dog.
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 Iâm standing here in front of the storage closet while Travis rummages through dusty old boxes to find theÂ SantaÂ 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 hangoverÂ was triedÂ to get out of it. Travis wouldnât hear of it. Apparently, every year they get some poor schmuck to agree to dress up and playÂ SantatoÂ the kids down at the childrenâs 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, Iâm the only one, supposedly, who doesnât have out-of-town plans. Iâm âitâ by default on more than one level.
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. âJust what I need to make it look like I put on an extra fifty pounds instead of ten.â Itâs 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 Iâd originally thought. âYouâll look anything but fat in this, trust me.â
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, âWhat is that supposed to meâohâ¦â
This is not theÂ SantaÂ suit Iâd expected. Itâsâ¦wellâ¦ âI think you went to the wrong costume shop, little buddy,â I say sarcastically, because this has to be a joke. âI think you need to go back in there and find the rest of it.â
Travisâs smile is positively wicked now. âThatÂ isÂ the rest of it.â
My eyes widen, and I look at it again. âWhere did you find this thing, Strippers R Us? I canât wear this!â
Like the asshole big-brother-type that he is, Travis playfully pokes the end of my nose. âYou sure can, hon, and youâll do it with a smile on your face and merry little laugh, too.â Closing up the closet, he locks it back up and brushes by me. âMake sure you dry-clean that thing before you put it on. Itâs been around the block a few times.â
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.
Iâd just have to find my revenge another way. Until I did, it looked as though I was cursed to play Mrs.Â Santa.