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    Kiss Me, Santa
    Kiss Me, Santa
    Kiss Me, Santa
    Ebook96 pages1 hour

    Kiss Me, Santa

    By Suzanne D. Williams

    ()

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    About this ebook

    "And if I walk away?" she asked. "If going back to New York is what I choose?"

     

    Sadness washed in his eyes, and she wished she hadn't put it there. "Will you ever forget Brutus Pope?" he asked.

     

    She shook her head. "Never."

     

    TV baking star, Padgett Greene, reluctantly agreed to spend her December holidays in Florida with her aged aunt, in spite of her desperate need to cling to her waning fame. It could be she's passing up her next big opportunity toward success by leaving. She has a well-known boyfriend and walks in important social circles here.

     

    Brutus Pope took the opportunity to meet the woman on TV, having decided with one TV episode that they'd be perfect together. She can cook, and he loves food. Add in, how beautiful she is, inside and out, and their relationship seems like destiny. All it took was one kiss to prove it to him.

     

    But what does a woman with so much going for her need with an ex-con who works at a packaging store? And how can the woman, swept away by the man who plays Santa, set aside her golden future for him? Except in his gentle smile and kind heart she sees the happiness she's longed for and the true meaning of Christmas.

     

    A sweet, clean romance novella by best-selling author, SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuzanne D. Williams
    Release dateFeb 13, 2022
    ISBN9781536575354
    Kiss Me, Santa
    Author

    Suzanne D. Williams

    Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE. To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalogue of stories, visit http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/ or link with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor.

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      Book preview

      Kiss Me, Santa - Suzanne D. Williams

      A picture containing text Description automatically generated

      SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS

      Feel-Good Romance

      © 2016 KISS ME SANTA by Suzanne D. Williams

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      www.suzannedwilliams.com

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      From The Author

      CHAPTER 1

      The woman who entered the office defined the word busy, her every motion appearing deliberately made and preplanned. She shook hands like that, too, as if it were on her schedule, then bent her head to a small notepad clasped in one hand. Her manner was friendly, if a tad crisp. Thank you so much for seeing me. We are overjoyed this joyful season to spread joy into the lives of the youth of this community.

      That she’d used the word joy in three forms in one sentence amused him, but past a quiet smile, he didn't say anything. It wasn’t his job to police others’ actions.

      We’re happy to have the church’s help, the Youth Center’s leader, Mark Willis, replied. He waved his hand toward a pair of chairs. Please, no need to stand. We can sit.

      The woman acted like sitting went outside of her comfort zone, staring at him then down at the chair as it were a foreign object. She finally perched in it ... and perched was definitely the best description ... like a bird on a wire, her toes curled inside the ugliest pair of arch-support sandals.

      We at Fellowship Christian Church, she continued, pausing, he supposed, to let the name of the church sink in. He’d bet she always referred to it by its full name. Odd.

      We at Fellowship Christian Church have agreed to join in your annual Christmas celebration. We are prepared to provide refreshments and gifts, through donations, as well as work to drum up interest in the area. I’ve brought a list of our ideas. With this, she leaned forward and slid a printed page across the desk.

      Mark took hold, but gave it barely a glance. All this is great, Missus ...? He paused for her name.

      Ms., she corrected. Ms. Delores Sparke.

      Ms. Sparke. We welcome the help and appreciate the church’s efforts. I’m a man of faith myself. But ... over the phone, maybe I misheard, but it sounded like we were asked to not have Santa?

      Delores Sparke’s face shaded a peculiar tint of pink, and she wrung her hands, twisting her fingers together over and over again. "Well, not not have him, but perhaps, tone him down a bit. We want to focus our efforts on the gospel message and not lie to children."

      For the first time since she’d arrived, Brutus Pope couldn’t stay quiet, but instead of speaking, he settled for an interrupting cough. It sounded louder and wetter than he wanted though.

      Delores swiveled her gaze as if seeing him at last.

      This is Brutus, Mark said. He plays Santa.

      He’s ...

      She didn’t finish her statement, but it wasn’t necessary. He knew how he looked to others. More than once, he’d wanted to flash his skull tattoo just to see people faint. He didn’t though because, despite her weird mannerism, they needed the church’s help this year. Funds were incredibly low, and without them, they wouldn’t be able to have a celebration at all.

      Qualified, Mark finished for her. He’s very good at it. Trust me. He shifted his shoulders and glanced back down at the page. I see a comment about decorations in the Center. We typically have a tree ...

      It was the older woman’s chance to choke this time. I know that trees are traditional, but they are steeped in secular history and, like I said, the church ...

      Wants to focus on the gospel. Or did the church want to focus on itself? Brutus didn’t ask, but failed to see how Santa and Jesus couldn’t get along for a few weeks. He finally spoke. I think we can both compromise for the sake of the children. They know I’m the one in the suit anyhow, so no one’s being misled. Plus, purchasing a tree will help support the Veteran’s Fund, which runs the lot, and everyone wins.

      Delores hushed, and the sounds outside the office leaked in:  the squeak of tennis shoes and smack of basketballs, a mixed pulse of several genres of music, as well as laughter and chatter from the after-school teenage crowd.

      Well, I suppose when you put it like that it’ll be okay. The children should be our focus.

      Mark smiled wide and gave him a knowing look, then took a third glance at her list. His eyebrows rose. This is a lot of food.

      Delores preened then, reminding Brutus, once more, of a bird, her chest puffed out, feathers distended. My niece is visiting. She works at a bakery in New York. Padgett Green, perhaps you’ve heard of her? She was on the TV program where they compete for best baker?

      Mark clearly had no idea who Padgett Green was, but the name sparked sharp in Brutus’s thinking. Mostly because he loved to eat, so watching any food-related program on television was a natural habit. Not a good habit, since it tended to make him hungry.

      Anyhow ... With a lack of response from either of them, Delores forged on. "She’s going to coordinate the menu and bring interest in from outside. She knows people."

      What people those were was in question, and he could read that on Mark’s face as well. Yet, neither one of them said anything.

      Perhaps, I should speak with her, Brutus said.

      This brought the woman’s gaze onto him again. She was definitely confused, her look asking why he’d have any thoughts on the food at all. Truthfully, he wanted to go over the menu, maybe talk her into something less upscale, but the thoughts he’d had of Padgett Greene from the television competition were of maybe a less Christian nature than Delores needed to know and partially fueling his statement.

      Santa does like his plate of cookies when he comes down the chimney, he added.

      Mark laughed beneath his breath, but Delores appeared flustered.

      I ... I suppose. I ... can give her your number.

      Brutus leaned over the desk, snatched a sticky note from a pad in the center and scribbled his cell phone number and name on it. He extended it to

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