Page 50 of One Vow

I could feel his gaze. “Great job tonight, Santa.”

It was really Randy Allen. He’d been Santa every year since I was in college. Kids loved him and he fit the suit.

“You, too.” And not for the first time, he sounded like Finn. Sometimes it happened that way for me. I would see him in places he couldn’t possibly be, hear him when there was no chance it could be him. I’d gotten used to it. Too used to it.

17

Finn

God, she was beautiful. Even in her crazy green knitted dress lined with fur at the neck and hem, her black boots with the low-heels also lined with fur, and the hat with bells that jingled every time she moved and little pieces of plastic on each side that fit over her ears and made them pointed. And she smelled like heaven, flowery and clean in a room meant to smell like Christmas with its pine candle and hidden Christmas tree air fresheners. And oh God, the smile, genuine and sweet, no matter who she aimed it at. All of it, all of her, made sitting in this awful chair pretending to be from the North Pole while what felt like every kid in town climbed on my lap all worth it.

Felicity pulled her purse from behind my chair, and I caught a big whiff of her. Sunshine. And flowers. Something that would always be just her.

I’d forgotten too many things about her and not nearly enough. She had eyes brighter than the sun, more expressive than a painting. Her laugh was like music and made my heart lighter. These were the things I assumed everyone knew about her.

But I’d not remembered the way her voice went husky with just a slight rasp when she wanted me. And the way she could be so intense when she cooked. Her touch was like a hundred feathers on my skin and I’d always loved the way her face lit up when she petted a dog or talked about the cat, De Luna, she’d had before they moved to Glouster. How had I forgotten those things?

She smiled over her shoulder. “Great job tonight, Santa.”

“You, too.” She stopped for just a second and moved as if she was going to turn to look at me. Fuck. I’d blown my cover and Sofia didn’t have time to set everything up yet. But then Lis started rooting through her bag again, and I breathed out slow. Soft. It took every ounce of will I had not to stand, wrap my arms around her and pull her back into me. To close my eyes and hold her.

She found her keys and jingled them in her hand. “I should go.”

And that was it. The thought of her walking away, even though I knew where I’d find her, made me stand, and move between her and the small door. “Lis.”

She glanced up at me. Looked down. Scoffed and shook her head. Even over the candle that was supposed to smell like a Douglas fir, I could smell her shampoo, the lotion that matched, and the hand sanitizer that all came from one of those mall stores where she could mix her own fragrances. A smell that would always belong to her.

A smell that made my voice small, cracked. I smiled. If she told me to leave I was going to die, and I always wanted to go out with a smile on my face. Even if it was fake as hell. “Surprise.”

She narrowed her eyes, not quite a glare, but nowhere near a look of joy. “You’ve been here all this time?”

I wasn’t sure whether to duck or hug her. So, I didn’t move at all. Partly because I only had this one chance to make this right and not lose her a third time. Partly because she was stunning and sometimes staring at her made it impossible for me to do anything else. This was one of those minutes.

She cleared her throat, set her bag on the table, and crossed her arms. “What are you doing here?”

It was my chance to say something clever and romantic, something that would express everything I felt for her so there were no blurred lines or confusion about us. “I love you.”

And while that summed it up, no way was it enough. “I didn’t marry Beth.”

Not even close to what I wanted to say, but definitely something she needed to know. Maybe it was jetlag. I’d been up all night and spent so much time on planes today. An excuse for my lack of finesse.

“Oh. Good.”

I opened the front of my Santa suit and pulled out the envelope of papers Beth had handed me at the airport. “And we’re not divorced.”

Those words made my heart flex its muscle.

“How did you get here?”

In here?

“In this little cottage? I had some help from Sofia.” I shrugged. “When your real Santa went to the bathroom, she cornered him and waited for me to show up so I could put on the suit.”

But if she meant in Maine, that was a little more complicated. Something we could discuss after I kissed her. After I gave her the ring I’d been hanging onto for the last ten years.

I didn’t have a fancy box or even a little velvet pouch. It was loose in my pocket and I reached in and pulled it out. “Lis…”

I moved closer, and she didn’t step back, so I took it as a good sign. “I love you. I always have, and this last week has been…amazing. I can’t go back to being without you, Lis. I can’t let you go again.”