Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
PIERCE
I jerked out of my sleep when Millie suddenly pressed her wet, cold nose to my cheek and growled low in her throat. Groaning, I gently pushed her face away, definitely not ready to be awake yet. She was adorable, but it was the middle of the night. And I drank way too much wine before coming to bed because spending Christmas Eve alone always made me sad, so I needed some sleep. Whatever my pretty pittie wanted could wait.
But of course, she didn’t think so.
Another low growl rumbled from her throat, and she pushed her snout against my face again—rougher this time. Sighing, I peeled open my eyes, blinking at her. She immediately jumped off the bed, and her claws clicked across the hardwood flooring of my bedroom as she paced to the door, then back to the bed, then back to the door again.
“Seriously?” I groaned, scrubbing my hands over my face. “Millie, baby, can’t you hold it for a little while longer? Daddy is sleepy .”
She whined before pacing to the door, back to me, and to the door again, giving impatient little huffs as she did so. Sighing, I flung the blankets back, shivering when the cold air of the room washed over my warm skin. Rubbing at my eyes, I made my way to the bedroom door and opened it. Immediately, Millie took off down the stairs, barking like she’d lost her mind.
My eyes widened in alarm, and I raced after her, the wine in my stomach sloshing and my head spinning from too much wine.
Millie wasn’t aggressive. She never knew a stranger, and she was literally just a land seal. So adorable and cuddly. She wanted all the love in the world and was normally completely docile.
If she was rushing off like that and barking like she’d just discovered how to do so, something was wrong .
“Fuck!” a male voice suddenly shouted. My heart lurched into my throat, and my wine threatened to come back up as I rushed into the living room.
What the fuck ?
Standing in my living room by my chaotically decorated Christmas tree was the hottest man I’d ever seen wearing a Santa outfit, complete with the hat on his head and the black boots on his feet. The only thing missing was the white beard. Instead, he seemed to have left it wherever he came from, and his own dark, close-cropped beard was in its place.
Millie was latched onto the man’s arm, low growls sounding from her throat. And the stranger was glaring at her as if she was somehow in the wrong for protecting her home and her owner.
“Who the hell are you?” I demanded, wishing I’d thought to grab my phone before coming downstairs so I could call 911. But I mean, what were the odds a hot-as-fuck Santa would break into my house?
Before tonight, I’d literally thought they were zero.
“Santa,” the stranger deadpanned, shooting me a flat look. I scowled at him. He grimaced when Millie growled. “You mind, sweetheart?” he asked, shooting a pointed look at my dog.
I cringed before darting forward and gripping Millie’s collar. None of my danger radars were sounding, and they were usually pretty reliable. I didn’t think this man was here to hurt me. If he had been, I’d been right upstairs all this time, most of it spent in a drunken sleep.
“Millie, release.” She only growled, refusing to let go. I shot an apologetic look at… Santa. I knew he’d broken into my house, but I didn’t want him to die because of it… or lose an arm. It didn’t even look like he was trying to steal anything. In fact, a glance at my Christmas tree told me he had been leaving me gifts… which was odd.
“Millie, let go!” I shouted. Shouting at her seemed to work. She immediately released him, and he shook out his arm, clenching his jaw in pain.
“Mother fuck, your dog has a set of jaws on her,” he growled, pain lancing his words, but it was also mostly annoyance. As if he’d been inconvenienced by my dog when he was the one who’d broken into my house and made her bite him. Had he not been in my living room in the middle of the night, maybe my sweet baby wouldn’t have felt the need to protect us.
“Well, she wouldn’t have felt the need to bite you if you hadn’t been in our house in the middle of the night,” I retorted, now annoyed as well. “Who the hell are you?” Spinning on my heel, I headed for the staircase to get my phone. “I need to call 911. This is fucking insanity.”
“Don’t fucking call the cops,” fake, hot Santa snapped as he stomped toward my dining room. With his good arm, he roughly slid open the back door and stomped outside onto my patio. I gaped after him because what the hell ? “My name is Cal. I’m not a danger to you. Come sit outside, and I’ll explain everything.”
I stood frozen as he began patting his pockets. Millie plopped her cute butt on the floor beside my feet, both of us watching the grumpy Santa that called himself Cal aggressively continue patting his pockets, muttering obscenities under his breath. “Fucking dog. Need a fucking cigarette. Where the fuck—” He looked up at me abruptly, his dark eyes boring into mine. “Well? You gonna stand there all day, sweetheart, or are you going to come out here and give me a moment to explain myself before you have me locked up?”
Sighing, I leaned down to lightly scratch the top of Millie’s head. Her mouth opened, and her tongue lolled out. Her lips pulled back to reveal her adorable, toothy, pittie smile.
“If he tries anything stupid,” I whispered to her, “bite him again.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Cal-Santa grumbled before plopping into one of my lawn chairs and lighting the cigarette I guessed he’d finally found.