Page 23 of A Cowboy Holiday
“Aw, that’s nice. You’ll both have to stop by sometime. I’m well-known for my split-pea soup, which isn’t always a kid favorite, but I bet she’d like my tomato soup and grilled cheese,” Vicki preened. “What’s her name?”
“Phoebe.”
“I was telling Axel here to talk to you about dance lessons,” Tanner piped in. “Phoebe wants to do ballet.”
Vicki smiled. “Rich would know better than me. You know his sister is part owner of that studio in Santa Ynez.”
“Who’s Rich?” I asked.
“Tanner’s…” She hesitated a beat before adding, “—friend.”
Friend?
I raised a brow but didn’t respond.
“Right. Good call,” Tanner sputtered. “Uh…hey, we’re gonna head over to the park. See ya.”
We wandered to the corner, where a skinny Santa in Hawaiian attire, his scraggly white beard slightly askew, ho-ho-hoed. I wanted to joke about him having less than two months to put on some weight, but I was thinking about Tanner again.
Seemed like the cowboy had a secret of his own. Interesting.
“That’s Scott. He’s been Christmas Town’s Santa for a couple of years,” Tanner was saying. “Jolly guy, but he doesn’t give strong St. Nick vibes.”
I grunted in agreement. “Yeah, I don’t think he’s gonna fool Phee.”
He grinned and motioned for me to follow him. “Scott shaved his beard last spring. It wasn’t great to begin with—a bit patchy, if you know what I mean. It never grew back nicely, so he’s wearing the fake one. We haven’t had a Santa with a fake beard in…ever. No one would dare complain, though.”
“Not unless they’d be willing to play the part?”
Tanner nodded. “Exactly. We razz Hudson and tell him he’d make a great Santa candidate, but I definitely think you’d be a better choice now.”
I stopped at the bottom of the grassy knoll, my brow furrowed. “Very funny.”
Tanner thought so. He joked about the size of my candy cane and what might be in Santa’s bag if I were carrying it. “Vibrators, dildos, butt plugs…the possibilities are endless.”
I glowered some more but not well.
There was something unmistakably sweet about Tanner…even when he was yammerin’ on about X-rated holiday gifts. Ibasked in the sunny glow of his easygoing disposition, thinking a little temporary sweetness couldn’t hurt.
Until curiosity got the better of me.
“Who’s Rich?” I blurted.
Tanner’s brows knit under his dark sunglasses. “He’s a vintner. He works with Santiago at the winery.”
“Hmm. I’ve seen the vineyard. It’s impressive.”
“Thanks. Our Pinot does well, and the tasting room gets a lot of traffic and—he’s my ex.”
I tipped the brim of my hat. “Ahh, I see.”
“No, you don’t,” he huffed, pausing to stare into the window of a shop selling Christmas ornaments. “We broke up a year ago, and the town hasn’t quite gotten over it.”
“But you have?”
“I wouldn’t have kissed you otherwise. And yes, he technically works for me, but I don’t want to give you the impression?—”
“Hey.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to explain. I don’t have anything but a good impression of you.”