Page 32 of Santa Daddies

His brow lifted as if he wasn’t sure he believed me, and I narrowed my eyes in retaliation.

“I’m no black diamond enthusiast, hell, I’m not even black diamond confident, but I enjoy a blue run as much as the next intermediate skier.” And I did, at least the one time I did the run and didn’t fall, but that was ten years ago. I’d feel a hell of a lot better sticking to the green beginner runs now, but I wasn’t telling him that. I’d embarrassed myself enough today.

And it wasn’t that I was trying to impress him, it was just that he owned a ski resort, and well… well what? I wasn’t not dating him. I wasn’t even interested in dating him. What did it matter then, admitting skiing wasn’t in my wheelhouse?

Ugh, because he’s hot and sexy and just because my brain knew I shouldn’t date him didn’t mean the rest of me didn’t want to. But he wouldn’t be sibling approved. Not only because of the age difference, but also because if I started something with my brother’s boss and something went wrong, it would be a disaster.

And then there was the other thing… A guy that played Santa Daddy in a dirty dance show for horny women, wasn’t the kind of guy you settled down with and took home to the family. And he probably wasn’t the kind of guy that wanted to settle down anyway. He’d made it clear we were just a fling, even if he did throw in theand what if I want morejoke. Nope, all this could be was a hot, fun, short-lived fling, because I needed to get serious. I was looking for something more. Something real. I was looking for a man I could work toward having a family with.

“You have a strange look on your face, Little Red. It looks like panic. Are you sure you’re not lying to Daddy?”

“Pff, listen, Santa Daddy…” I was going to put this guy in his place… Who was he to question me?

“Yes, Little Red?” His right brow arched, and those eyes bounced between mine as if he were reading me. Heat instantly flooded my bloodstream and my heart flipped.

“May I have some of yourGløgg?”

Chicken.

The little town was lit up. There were fairy lights in soft white everywhere; on storefronts and pubs, strung over the road from one side of the shops to the other, in the trees and around the bushes. And even wrapped around the old-fashioned lamps that lined the road and the wrought-iron fences that enclosed the restaurants and bar patios.

“It’s beautiful,” I exclaimed, as the gentle clomping of horse hooves and the hush of the sleigh rails swished through the snow. Fat fluffy snowflakes began to fall and as we started down Main Street, the sounds of music floated in the air. Not just music, but people singing.

“Where are we going first, Emily?” Kristoffer asked, drawing my attention from the large group of people outside of a restaurant bar patio singing along with Bruce Springsteen’sSanta Claus is Coming to Town.

“They look like they’re having fun,” I said, pointing at the cheery group, holding up old- fashioned beer steins as they sung around fire tables. “Is that steaming-hot beer?” I asked, scrunching my nose as a man ladled something steaming into the mugs.

Kristoffer chuckled. “No, it’s GermanGlüwein, also a spiced mulled wine. Translated it means glow wine.”

“Ohh. I’m going to have to try that one too, even though I’m already glowing from this one.” I raised my cup of NorwegianGløgg.”

“Better take it easy or you’ll be skiing with a hangover.”

“Yes, Nissen.”

“How’d you know that’s what we call Santa Claus in Norway?”

I held up my phone. “I checked right after you told me about theGløgg.”

“That’s both sneaky and sweet, Little Red. And I can’t help but like you even more now.” He took my hand in his and held it as we rode through town. “I grew up here, but my parents grew up in Tromsø, Norway. My mom came to Canada with her parents when she was a teenager. My father came later when he was old enough to follow her. My Christmas packages growing up always came from Nissen. How about you? What was it like for you? If you want to talk about it…” His eyes softened.

I told him a bit about our family Christmases before my parents died, and how they changed after and then thankfully the sleigh came to a stop along with my tragic story.

When everyone got out of the sleighs and started to explore, most of the couples did what couples do best and went off on their own. Kristoffer stuck to my side though, holding my hand in his in his pocket the whole time. Well, except when we bumped into any of the others. Then I quickly yanked my hand back and tucked it into my own pocket.

Kristoffer walked me through the town, showing me all his favorite places and we mapped out our attack on the festival, starting with the German pub. There, I tried a different variation of mulled wine, and we ate a small plate of delicious roast goose with dumplings and a sweet and tangy dish of red cabbage.

The second thing on our plan was the tree-decorating contest. We joined a small team, shy of two, that had alreadychosen one of the trees in the town square. It turned out to be a husband, wife and their two adult children. We had an hour to complete the challenge, and all the decorations could be chosen from the big bins outside the post office. The various trees would be judged by festival goers, each placing their vote in a mailbox in the town square. The winning team would be announced later in the evening. The group that won would each receive a box of chocolates from a local vendor, a voucher for a free pie at the local bakery, and free lift passes for the ski mountain.

“We might be outnumbered here,” Kristoffer whispered to me as we listened to our team consulting with each other as the announcer called out the names of the sponsors of the contest. “Our ideas might be ignored.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Santa Daddy; You’re supposed to be a jolly fat man full of Christmas spirit and magic.”

“Minus the man and Christmas spirit part, I’m none of those things.”

I laughed.

“I have an idea,” I announced after I browsed the bins of decorations.