Chapter 10
Holden
The Santa suit itched.
Scratch that—the entire experience itched, from the too-warm fake beard clinging to my jaw to the heavy red coat making me sweat like I was skating through a sauna. I tugged at the collar and glanced at the mirror in the resort staff room.
This was a mistake.
I wasn’t exactly great with kids. The Holiday Hockey Shootout had gone better than expected, but this? This was Breakfast with Santa. Actual children climbing onto my lap and asking for ponies and iPhones and world peace. There was no stick, no puck, no helmet to hide behind.
And now the person who had been assigned to be my elf had bailed. Something to do with a rash. So Jolly Old Saint Nick was flying solo with no backup.
I peered out from behind the door to assess just how many people we were talking about. The ballroom was packed with round tables of eight, nearly every one of them full, still ten minutes before the official start time. Apparently, Santa was a popular guy.
I still wasn’t sure how I’d gotten roped into this. My agent said it had something to do with my size, but there was also a football player here the same size as me, so I wasn’t buying it.
Then I spotted her—golden hair down and loosely curled—and my stomach did an unhelpful flip.
Great. That shouldn’t happen when I see a woman. Especially not Belle. Who has a boyfriend. A boyfriend who also happens to be my cousin. Funny how I had to keep reminding myself of that. And annoying that my body didn’t seem to care.
Belle sat at one of the front tables, Aunt Maggie at her side, smiling as she said something that made Belle laugh. I didn’t recognize the rest of the people at the table, but it was no surprise Uncle Paul and Alex hadn’t joined them. They probably had some precious meeting to attend.
I forced myself to look away and adjust the crooked Santa hat on my head. It didn’t help. The beard on beard was itchy, my boots were too tight, and I was about ten seconds away from making a break for the exit.
Sneaking back behind the door before any kids could spot me, I could have sworn I saw Belle glance my way.
I’d told her yesterday after the snowman-building competition that my charity duty today would be playing Santa at the plated fundraising breakfast. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when, seconds later, Belle was joining me in the small room.
“Is this where the magic happens, or are you just hiding?” Her lips curved in an amused smile that somehow made the itchy suit feel ten times hotter.
She glanced down at the red suit, the white fur trim, and the black boots, then back to my face, which must have had a stressful look on it. “Right. Totally normal amount of panic for a guy dressed like Santa to be hiding five minutes before going out to a room full of kids.”
“I wasn’t panicking,” I lied. “I was…strategizing.”
“Strategizing what? How to survive the sugar-fueled chaos? Or how not to get tackled by a six-year-old asking for a pony?”
My silence must’ve said it all because her smile softened.
“Holden.” She stepped a little closer, voice gentler now. “What’s really going on?”
I scratched at my beard and sighed. “My elf bailed. Some kind of rash situation, which is horrifying in its own way. And now it’s just me, a room full of kids, and a Santa suit that might actually be a torture device.”
She bit back a grin. “Okay, yeah, that’s a lot.”
“Just a little.” I tried to shrug it off, but my shoulders barely moved in the bulky suit. “I don’t really do the whole ‘kid’ thing. The hockey event was fine—they had sticks and rules. This? This is free-range chaos. I’m pretty sure I’m going to ruin some poor kid’s Christmas dream.”
Belle was quiet for a moment, studying me. Then she said, “Well, good thing I brought my elf costume.”
I blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
She laughed. “No, but I do happen to be very good at winging things. And I don’t exactly have plans this morning.” Her voice dipped just slightly. “Alex didn’t come back last night. He’s still in New York.”
Something in my chest tightened at knowing he’d chosen work over her again, but I kept my tone light. “So...you’re volunteering to be my elf?”
She gave me a wink. “Only if you promise not to fire me for stealing the spotlight.”
I couldn’t help it—I smiled. It was the first time, all morning, that I felt like maybe I wasn’t completely doomed.
Without skipping a beat, she picked up the elf costume that was lying on one of the boxes and went behind the screen that had been put up as a makeshift changing area.
Before I could even fully process how this woman had gone from planning to eat breakfast with Maggie to now being my elf, she rounded the screen in full elf attire.
Belle adjusted the oversized elf hat and smiled up at me. “How do I look?”
How did she look? She looked hot. I didn’t even know someone could look so good in an elf costume. But the way the short skirt cinched in at her waist and flared out, exposing her legs, which were only covered by sheer red tights, had me working to swallow.
“Festive,” I finally choked out, trying not to stare too long.
Her cheeks turned the same shade as her tights—my staring must have not gone unnoticed.
“That’s perfect, then,” she said.
She had no idea.
Suddenly someone tapped a microphone and asked the audience if they were ready to meet Santa. The squeal of children’s excitement told me that was my cue.
Belle glanced up at me. “Hey. You’ve got this.”
I nodded, not sure I believed it, but it was game time. I was definitely going to need to channel my inner athlete on this.
The first few kids were simple enough. A toddler in footie pajamas just wanted to tug on my beard.
A little boy wanted a fire truck that sprayed actual water, and I figured there was a toy that did, so I told him I’d make it happen.
A little girl kept asking me questions about Mrs. Claus and I did my best to answer them, but I wasn’t sure she was satisfied.
Thankfully, Belle made it easier. She knelt beside the kids, asked questions in a soft, excited voice, and kept the energy light and warm.
When one boy got shy and buried his face in his mom’s sweater, Belle knelt down and offered him a candy cane, talking to him about reindeer names until he peeked out again.
I watched her, and something tugged deep in my chest. She was so natural at this. She was kind, patient, and funny without trying. And even when she glanced back at me and smiled, like she was making sure I was okay, I could barely breathe.
“Next!” Belle called cheerfully, motioning for a girl in sparkly boots and pigtails to come forward.
She climbed onto my lap like a pro and leaned in close. “Are you and the elf married?”
Belle choked on a laugh from beside me.
I blinked. “Uh…no. We’re not—”
“But you like her,” the girl said knowingly. “You look at her like my dad looks at my mom.”
Belle went very still beside me.
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. The girl just patted my arm and grinned. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. Merry Christmas, Santa.”
She hopped off my lap and skipped away.
By the time I was done meeting with every kid, I was both exhausted and proud. I didn’t think I ruined anyone’s Christmas, and I’d only made three kids cry. I was counting my Santa gig as a win.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” I said as we walked back to the staff room to return our costumes.
“I’m glad I could help,” Belle said, not looking nearly as worn out as I felt. “I had a lot of fun. And you had nothing to worry about. You were great with the kids.”
I glanced over at her, still in her elf costume, cheeks pink and eyes shining. “Yeah? Even the ones who tried to climb me like a jungle gym?”
She laughed. “Especially those ones. You handled it like a pro.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed, but it was nice of her to say.
“What do you have planned next?” I asked, not wanting our conversation to end yet. Plus, since Alex hadn’t returned last night like he was supposed to, I wondered if she would be alone. And hadn’t he asked me to keep her company?
“Nothing, actually.” Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but I saw it.
“How about we go ice skating?” I asked before I could talk myself out of it. Glutton for punishment, apparently.
She turned to me, surprised but smiling. “Really? You’re not too busy with charity stuff?”
“This breakfast was the only thing on my schedule today.”
“If you’re sure, then yeah, I’d love to.” She pulled off her elf hat and set it down on one of the boxes in the staff room, a few strands of golden hair falling loose around her face.
“Great,” I said, fighting the ridiculous smile tugging at my mouth. “Let’s meet at the rink in half an hour. I need to shower and hope this costume didn’t give me a rash.”
She laughed. “Good luck with that, Santa.”
As I hurried back to my hotel room, my thoughts were all over the place. For a guy who’d planned to hole up in his room all week, only surfacing for the mandatory charity stuff, I sure was doing a lot of holiday activities. Was it this place? The season? Or was it just…Belle?
I didn’t know what it was about her, but she made me feel like someone else, someone I might’ve been in a different life. One where my mom hadn’t looked at me like I was a mistake.
Or maybe Belle wasn’t showing me who I could’ve been, but maybe she was showing me who I could be, despite my history.
Whatever the reason, I couldn’t stay away from her.
If Zeke or Ryder—or any of the guys on the team—saw me now, they’d never believe it. Decorating cookies, building snowmen, playing Santa—and doing it all with the same woman. The woman I couldn’t stop staring at. Couldn’t stop smiling around. Couldn’t stop wanting to be near.
Of course, none of it would last. Not once Alex showed back up.
But I wasn’t going to think about that now.
For once, I was going to let myself enjoy the moment—no worries, no fears, no what-ifs. Just ice skating and being around someone who made me feel…happy. I’d deal with the fallout later.
I got to the rink a few minutes early, hoping to ask a favor from whoever was running the place.
All I wanted was twenty minutes—just twenty minutes of ice time without the public joining in.
Normally, I wasn’t one to throw around my name or status, but this felt like a good time to make an exception.
When Belle arrived, the rink had already been cleared, and I had Joe to thank for that. Luckily, he was a hockey fan, and it hadn’t taken much convincing.
She walked up, bundled in her coat, a bright scarf wrapped loosely around her neck—turquoise and coral and another color I couldn’t name, but it looked…cheerful. It looked like her.
“Oh no, is it closed?” she asked, glancing at the empty rink behind me.
“No,” I chuckled. “I called in a favor. We have the rink to ourselves for the next twenty minutes.”
Before I could stop myself, my hand reached out, my fingers brushing lightly over the end of her scarf. “You look good in bright colors.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, and something flickered there, something I couldn’t quite read. It was almost like I’d said something that meant more than just a compliment.
As the silence stretched between us, so did whatever had been building since our time together in New York. Again, I found myself wanting to pull her close and kiss her.
I cleared my throat and looked away before I did something stupid.
“We should probably get skating before our time is up,” I said, gesturing a thumb behind me toward the ice.
“Uh, yeah. Right.”
Was she just as flustered? Or was it only me feeling this pull, this gravity that tugged at me whenever she was near?
We grabbed some skates and sat on a bench to start lacing them up.
“Have you skated much before?” I asked, curious how steady she’d be on the ice.
“Yes, actually. I used to go all the time as a kid,” she said, expertly lacing her skates as if to prove her point.
I shouldn’t have been disappointed by her answer, but I was. I’d secretly been hoping for an excuse to keep her close with her clinging to me while trying not to fall. Guess that wasn’t going to happen.
Once we stepped onto the ice, it was obvious she hadn’t exaggerated. She pushed off with ease, gliding like she’d done it yesterday.
“I grew up in upstate New York,” she said as we skated side by side. “It’s a small town, and there is this pond just down the street from our house that freezes over every winter. My siblings and I practically lived out there.”
As she spoke, her hands moved with the story, painting the picture as vividly as her words.
I remembered how animated she got when she talked, like she couldn’t help but bring you into the moment with her.
I’d noticed it that first time we’d met in New York, too.
I’d liked it then, but I liked it even more now.
She seemed to have been hiding it earlier when she was around Alex and his family, and I was glad she was obviously feeling more comfortable with me.
“Claire, my older sister, was insanely good. Like, Olympic-level-in-her-own-head kind of good,” she said with a laugh. “She made the rest of us look like baby deer learning to walk. I always wished I could skate like her.”
Her fingers brushed against mine as we skated, and I tried not to reach out and grab her hand.
It seemed like such a natural thing to do, to hold her hand while we glided along the ice together.
But she kept talking as if she hadn’t been affected at all by our accidental touch, so apparently it was just me who thought it seemed natural.
“My younger brother, Ethan, was more into sports. Football, soccer, hockey, anything with competition and trash talk,” she said, rolling her eyes fondly. “We used to have to beg him to come skate with us. But he always did. Even if he complained the whole time.”
“Are you three still close?” I asked, fascinated by this picture she was painting.
“Oh, yeah, we’re really close. We have a sibling group chat that can get pretty ridiculous,” she said with a huff of laughter. “They are my best friends.”
I watched her as she talked, her breath puffing out in little white clouds, hands flying midair, eyes lighting up with every memory.
It hit me again how different we were. She talked about her family like they were home. Like safety. Like warmth. But I didn’t have any experience with that.
I didn’t know what it was like to grow up wrapped in love and belonging. To have memories that didn’t come with sharp edges.
And yet, somehow, Belle made me want to believe in it. In all of it.
She made it look easy—love, joy, connection. Like maybe the world wasn’t as cold as I’d always thought it was.
And for the first time in a long time, I found myself wondering what it might be like to feel all of that too.