More Than a Gift | Patricia Preston

Can the magic of Santa help heal two broken hearts? Holly meets a flirty Santa who is determined to convince Holly to love Christmas again. They have an instant chemistry, but will that chemistry flame out when Holly finds out her amazing Santa is actually her boss's brother, Blake, who is totally Mr. Wrong?

More Than a Gift is a cute, holiday romance novella of 25,000 words. Mistaken identity, workplace romance, starting over, closed door.

Excerpt

Buy on Amazon

Out of nowhere, a chunk of cubed ice smacked his cheek. He looked over his shoulder, wondering who had the gall to throw ice at Santa.

Surprise brought a gape to his mouth when he saw Holly sitting at a table. She wore a deep purple sweater, a matching ribbon in her thick hair, and her lips were a glossy plum color. He met her gaze. Did she recognize him? His eyes and the bridge of his nose were practically the only part of him that wasn’t hidden by the Santa costume. He looked to the left and saw a three-year-old girl staring at him with wide eyes. He waved at her and said, “Ho, ho, ho.”

The child took off running back to her mother.

He turned in his chair, looking at Holly again.

“You need a different approach, Santa,” she called, and he realized she had no idea who he was. “Don’t you have a stuffed toy or something?”

“Not with me,” he answered. “I’m on break.”

“I didn’t know Santa took a break.”

“Yep.” He stuck his phone in the side pocket of his red Santa tunic. For all intents and purposes, he was Santa Claus. He wasn’t Blake Andrews, the guy who was damaged goods. For a little while, he could forget the past and enjoy the present.

After all, everybody loved Santa.

Maybe even Holly Ross. . .

Holly considered Santa’s question. “I haven’t been asked that since I was six years old.”

“What was your answer back then?”

“Sometimes.” She hopped to her feet. She didn’t want to deal with a flirty Santa, but she noticed Santa’s voice had a deep, sensual timbre. The guy beneath the costume was not an older man, as you might assume. Her curiosity had her wondering about him.

He stood, and it was evident that Santa’s rotund belly was actually padding beneath his red suit. She stifled a laugh when he had to shift it back into place.

He approached her as she tossed her foam cup in a trash bin.

Although his face was practically obscured by the curly white wig and beard he wore, she was right about the age thing. He had no deep wrinkles or bags beneath his radiant blue eyes, which looked sexy behind the wire-rim glasses.

“You know, if you aren’t good all the time, Santa might not leave you anything under the tree except switches.”

Although she couldn’t actually see his mouth for the fake beard, she did see the smile in his eyes. So the mall Santa was kinda flirting with her? “Thanks for the advice,” she said.

She headed out of the food court, disengaging with the blue-eyed Santa. She had to find Tristan Andrews a gift and escape all this Christmas nonsense.

Santa caught up to her. “If Santa offered to bring you anything you wanted for Christmas, what would that be?”

“You’re persistent.” She settled the strap of her pink handbag over her shoulder. “I don’t want anything for Christmas. I’m not celebrating Christmas. I want it to go away.”

“Whoa.” His voice took on a serious note. “Surely, you don’t mean that.”