Page 10 of Santas' Elf

Then there were the moments away from the crowds. Idle chatter over bland sandwich lunches—so that no sauce got on the costumes. Shared smiles when the temps spent more time arguing about who would get dressed first than it would take for them to actually change. A few precious minutes at the start and end of every day when we chatted about anything and everything.

Each of them was everything I was looking for in an alpha: kind, generous, smart, and funny. And neither smelled like they lived with an omega, or even spent much time with one. For some reason, it gave me hope that I might have a chance with one of them.

Were the two men at least a decade older than me? Probably. Did I care? Not one bit. I was old enough to know the risks, and old enough to know myself. Besides, I was comfortable around them.

We’d just finished another tasteless lunch, and I was readjusting my costume after taking a leak when I walked back into our tiny break room…

And saw Santa—Pete that day—kissing somebody.

The other man pulled back, and my stomach dropped when I saw that the man he’d been kissing… was Warren.

I ducked back down the hall before they spotted me.

Of course they were together. They hadn’t said anything, but all the signs had been there. I’d just been too oblivious to see them. They’d done the Santa thing for the same amount of time and owned a company together. Each would tell me little tidbits about the other—things you only knew after spending time together.

I swallowed, forced a smile, and purposefully made noise before attempting to go into the break room again. I was not the kind of man to come between a couple.

There were only three weeks left before Christmas—then I could put thoughts of the alphas out of my mind.

Chapter 8 - Pete

Iwas a horrible husband.

No matter what I did—how hard I tried—I couldn’t get thoughts of Benny out of my mind. I’d briefly imagine him round when he was dancing behind the camera, and visions of him writhing on my knot would spring to mind when I was intimate with Warren.

I loved my husband. I wanted to grow old with him. I’d meant every word of my wedding vows. I would stand beside him until my dying days. Richer, poorer, sickness, health—as long as I had Warren, I knew we could overcome any obstacle together.

So why couldn’t I get Benny out of my head?

I paced the living room and forced myself not to claw at my beard. Santa didn’t have healing scratch marks on his face after all.

I knew there was only one solution to my dilemma, and it terrified me. I had to talk to Warren and pray that he wasn’t too badly hurt by the admission.

Telling him would hurt him, but hiding it any longer would hurt us both far more.

I wracked my brain, trying to find any way to soften the blow. I’d already ordered delivery from his favorite restaurant and had prepped the guest room—in case he didn’t want to share a bed with me that night. I’d made a list of marriage counselors—on the chance he felt we needed something like that.

The most important thing for him to know was that I hadn’t cheated on him, and I had no intention of it either. The errant thoughts were just that: figments of my imagination. But he’d always been insecure about my choosing him over an omega who could give me a family, and this was likely to bring those doubts roaring back to life.

And I hated myself for it.

I wiped away a stray tear and wondered when I’d started crying.

That was all it took. The dam broke, and every emotion I’d tried to contain poured out at once. Self-loathing, terror that Warren would leave me… the desperate longing for Benny.

I fell to my knees, unable to stop sobbing.

“Pete!”

The sound of my love rushing over. Warm arms encircled me as he nuzzled into my hair.

When had he gotten home?

“Pete,” Warren murmured. “Pete, Love. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, then turned and fisted my hands in his shirt. “I love you… I love you…”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he murmured. “I love you too. What’s wrong?”