Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
R hys wore her father’s Santa coat, hat, and boots that evening when the lot opened but purposefully neglected to don the beard that would’ve disguised his handsome, well-known face. Within minutes, the image of her as his Mrs. Claus went viral.
More guards had been called in to handle the crush once word spread, but then the police came as well due to the traffic snarl of people trying to enter the lot when so few were exiting.
And even though Rhys had tried to warn her of what being seen publicly would mean, Sara wasn’t prepared.
It was a lot. And she wasn’t as ready as she thought she would be. But she reverted to her corporate boardroom days of handling difficult clients and tried to roll with the punches that came in the form of questions.
So many questions. When did they meet? How long had they been together? What did she bring to the table in their relationship if she was a tree-lot sales girl?
Rhys had gotten angry at that and skewered the man—a reporter—with a glare. He’d taken her hand and kissed it, holding it against his chest as he’d told the crowd they’d answered enough questions, and if they weren’t buying a tree, they had to clear the lot.
The trees sold out again, with the only hold up being how fast she and Rhys could take their money and smile for photos. By the end of the evening, the lot was empty of even the smallest tree, and she and Rhys collapsed inside the red camper, still dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus.
If she’d had any doubts about whether or not he was embarrassed of her, those had ended with his sharp shut downs to the ruder questions, and the way he’d attempted to protect her physically and verbally at every turn.
“Are you okay?”
He looked so worried, so frightened that she was going to bolt from the chaos they’d just experienced, that she got up from where she leaned against the dinette table and sat on Santa’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “That? Pffft . It wasn’t that bad. And we sold all the trees, and you didn’t have to buy them.”
Rhys chuckled softly at her words, the tension draining from him slightly as he cuddled her closer. “I didn’t have to buy them the first time. But I am glad it helped your parents.”
“They’ll be thrilled we sold out again,” she said. “Best present ever under the circumstances.”
“Good. Now I want to give you your Christmas present.”
“Rhys, I told you I don’t want gifts from you.”
“Even though I know you’ll really like this one?”
Curiosity got the best of her. “What is it?”
He grinned and pressed a kiss to her lips. “It’s a surprise. Let’s go.”
“What? You mean now? Where? I need to change. You need to change.”
He chuckled and stood with her in his arms, carrying her toward the camper door. “No. I think what we’re wearing is perfect.”
Less than an hour later, Sara pounced on Rhys inside the rented vehicle when she realized where Rhys had taken her on his private jet. The flight had been short but secretive, and Rhys’s boyish grins and visible satisfaction had kept her guessing as to their destination.
But when she saw the hospital sign and knew he’d brought her to see her mother, she’d melted, turning and kissing him like a woman possessed.
She was still kissing him when the vehicle rolled to a stop, and she vaguely heard Axel’s exit.
“Come on, sweet Sara. Time to see your gift.”
She fought back tears as Rhys got out first, then held her hand as they entered the hospital and were immediately shown to her mother’s private room—another gift from him she couldn’t protest because it was for her mother.
But the closer they got to the doorway, the more terrified Sara became. She gripped Rhys’s hand to the point of bruising, but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t seen her mother since that one time right after the accident, right after she’d died on the table, and that visit had lasted seconds due to her mom’s delicate condition.
Rhys paused outside the door to give her a moment to collect herself before they went inside.
Her mom and dad were both visibly surprised, and the smiles they wore when they saw her meant the world.
Her mom was still hooked up to tubes and oxygen and far too many things, but she was awake, if drowsy, and loved seeing Sara in her Mrs. Claus costume.
She loved seeing Rhys as Santa even more. Her mother’s face lit up with pleasure, her gaze sparkling despite the visible haziness caused by the pain meds.
Sara made the introductions, cheeks rosy due to the knowing looks her parents gave her, and they settled in for a short visit.
Her father got up to speak to Rhys, giving Sara his chair by the bed. She was about to sit down when she spotted the tree on the bedside table and sucked in a breath.
The small tree held glittery, gemmed trinkets just like the raccoon Rhys had given her. There was a Santa and Mrs. Claus, a fairy, an elf, a squirrel. So many. And she knew in an instant who had sent the gift. To cheer her mother up and remind her of what waited for her once she got better.
Her heart pinched, and tears flooded Sara’s eyes when she turned to see Rhys watching her.
She blinked hard and fast, not wanting to upset her mother, but—the sweetness of the gift gutted her. Rhys was more than his money. He was kind gestures and his willingness to wear silly costumes and send meaningful gifts to people he didn’t know, just because.
He was everything.
And while they were still new and had a world of what-ifs in front of them, right here, right now, she knew she was all in. No matter what the future held.
He was right. She’d been judgy in her thinking. Rhys was more than his money and net worth. Just as she was more than what people saw from the outside as an unemployed woman working for her parents.
Thank you , she mouthed softly.
Rhys winked at her, and she quickly dashed away the tears before her mom could see them.
Happy tears were good tears, and these were all good.
Thanks to Rhys, she’d found her Christmas spirit. It was right in front of her from the moment she’d met him, wearing that stupid raccoon costume.