Dear Santa

By K.C. Wells

Ten-year-old Chris's request to see Santa again takes Dave by surprise. He's a little old for that, surely? But Dave will do anything to put a smile on his son's face. Except when they get there, Santa is the one to make Dave smile. He's pretty sure there's a gorgeous man hiding beneath that white beard. And those eyes… Not that Dave gets a chance to even say hello. Chris tells Dave to stay back. Well, Christmas is a time for secrets, right?

 

Jeff loves playing Santa. That cute kid with the huge eyes – and the hot-looking dad - just surprised the hell out of him. Jeff hears all kinds of strange requests during the holiday season. But this one beats them all – even if it takes a little coaxing to get it out of the kid.

 

"There must be something you want for Christmas."

The boy snuck a glance over to where his dad stood with one of Santa's elves. "Well… there is one thing."

"And what's that?"

He bit his lip. "It's not for me."

Jeff smiled. Sweet kid. "Tell me."

"You're Santa. You can do anything, right?"

Jeff smiled. "You bet."

"My dad… he's a great guy, but… I think he's lonely."

Jeff gazed at the kid's dad. "Oh. Okay." How can someone so beautiful be lonely?

"So… what I really want for Christmas… is for him to find a new… boyfriend."

Jeff slowly arched his eyebrows. "I see."

The boy nodded. "Ever since Papa died, I know Dad has been unhappy. He tries to hide it, but I can see. And it's been three years since Papa went. Do you think it's too soon for him to fall in love again?" 

Jeff stared at the man. "No, I don't think it's too soon." He gave the kid a smile. "Leave it with me. I'll see what I can do." 

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.C. Wells
• Release date: Nov 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781916853188

K.C. Wells

K.C. Wells lives on an island off the south coast of the UK, surrounded by natural beauty. She writes about men who love men, and can’t even contemplate a life that doesn’t include writing. The rainbow rose tattoo on her back with the words 'Love is Love' and 'Love Wins' is her way of hoisting a flag. She plans to be writing about men in love - be it sweet and slow, hot or kinky - for a long while to come. If you want to follow her exploits, you can sign up for her monthly newsletter: http://eepurl.com/cNKHlT You can stalk – er, find – her in the following places: Email: [e-mail] Facebook: www.facebook.com/KCWellsWorld KC’s men In Love (my readers group): http://bit.ly/2hXL6wJ Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/K-C-Wells/e/B00AECQ1LQ Twitter: @K_C_Wells Website: www.kcwellswrites.com Instagram: www.instagram.com/k.c.wells BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/k-c-wells

Book preview

Ten-year-old Chris’s request to see Santa again takes Dave by surprise. He’s a little old for that, surely? But Dave will do anything to put a smile on his son’s face. Except when they get there, Santa is the one to make Dave smile. He’s pretty sure there’s a gorgeous man hiding beneath that white beard. And those eyes... Not that Dave gets a chance to even say hello. Chris tells Dave to stay back. Well, Christmas is a time for secrets, right?

Jeff loves playing Santa. That cute kid with the huge eyes – and the hot-looking dad - just surprised the hell out of him. Jeff hears all kinds of strange requests during the holiday season. But this one beats them all – even if it takes a little coaxing to get it out of the kid.

"There must be something you want for Christmas."

The boy snuck a glance over to where his dad stood with one of Santa’s elves. "Well... there is one thing."

And what’s that?

He bit his lip. It’s not for me.

Jeff smiled. Sweet kid. Tell me.

You’re Santa. You can do anything, right?

Jeff smiled. You bet.

My dad... he’s a great guy, but... I think he’s lonely.

Jeff gazed at the kid’s dad. Oh. Okay. How can someone so beautiful be lonely?

So... what I really want for Christmas... is for him to find a new... boyfriend.

Jeff slowly arched his eyebrows. I see.

The boy nodded. Ever since Papa died, I know Dad has been unhappy. He tries to hide it, but I can see. And it’s been three years since Papa went. Do you think it’s too soon for him to fall in love again? 

Jeff stared at the man. No, I don't think it’s too soon. He gave the kid a smile. Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can do. 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dear Santa

Copyright © 2021 by K.C. Wells

Cover Art by Meredith Russell

Edited by Sue Laybourn

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Cover content is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

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The trademarked products mentioned in this book are the property of their respective owners and are recognized as such.

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

THANK YOU

CONTACT KC

ALSO BY K.C. WELLS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chapter One

November 24

Within ten minutes of arriving at Winter Wonderland, Dave Hayland knew why Chris had pleaded to come. The place was awash with memories, and all of them centred on Matt.

Dad, there’s the Wild Mouse. Papa loved that ride.

Ooh, Dad, can we go on the Waltzers? Papa promised I could when I was bigger.

Can we have bratwurst later? That was Papa’s favourite.

Considering how quiet Chris had been of late, Dave could cope with an enthusiastic trip down Memory Lane. It amazed him how much Chris could recall. He’d been seven the last time they’d visited Winter Wonderland, not long before Matt had—

No. I said I wouldn’t do this.

Christmas was always the most difficult time of year. Of the two of them, Matt had always been the one who welcomed the season with open arms, throwing himself into the festivities. Even at university, Matt had been a big kid when it came to Christmas, and Dave had looked on with amusement—and so much love.

Chris tugged his sleeve. Can I go in there, Dad?

Dave sloughed off his memories and concentrated on the present. In where? Then he saw the sign pointing to Santa Land, next to which was another huge board in red, screaming in capital letters for visitors to Come See Santa.

Dave chuckled. When I was your age, he was referred to as Father Christmas.

Chris frowned. That was what Papa called him too. Did he change his name?

Matt’s voice was in his head. Another English tradition falling foul of American culture. Dave smiled. Father Christmas, Santa, Saint Nick, Kris Kringle... I guess he goes by a lot of aliases. Not surprising when you consider how many different continents he has to visit. Then Chris’s request sank in. You really want to see him?

That frown was still evident. Why wouldn’t I?

It was on the tip of Dave’s tongue to point out that there had been no carrots left out on Christmas Eve for the reindeer, no mince pies the last two years... Then he reconsidered. Ten was a little old to be sitting on Santa’s knee—which was probably a tradition relegated to the past in the current climate—but Dave was in no hurry for Chris to stop being a child.

Let him, if he wants to.

Dave’s inner voice sounded more and more like Matt these days.

I saw him once.

Dave blinked. Who?

Chris rolled his eyes. Santa. It was Christmas Eve, and I couldn’t sleep. I was looking out the window to see if I could see... you know... a sleigh... and Santa was in our garden, carrying a sack on his back.

Oh wow. That had been Dave in a suit, collecting Chris’s presents from the shed where they’d hidden them: Chris wasn’t allowed in there. The costume had been Matt’s idea, of course.

That was the last Christmas we spent together.

Christ, his head was full of Matt today.

You never said you’d seen him.

Chris bit his lip. I thought it would be breaking the rules. If I said I’d seen him, I’d end up on his naughty list, so... I kept quiet.

That decided him. Okay, let’s go see the big guy in the red suit.

Chris’s eyebrows shot up, and it was uncanny how much he resembled Matt. Wait. I want to talk to him on my own.

"Kids have to be accompanied by an adult at all times. And I know you don’t feel like you’re a kid, but you’re under twelve, and them’s the rules."

Please? Come on, Dad. It’s Christmas. Chris’s lower lip trembled. Papa would have let me.

Dave was about to admonish his son for such a cheap shot, when he realized what the deal was. Christmas was a time for secrets.

He stroked Chris’s strawberry blond hair, so like Matt’s. Okay. We’ll go there together. He held up his hands. And I’ll keep my distance, all right?

Chris beamed. Thanks, Dad. They walked through the gate, following the arrows, and on either side of the path, moving figures waved and turned to the strains of ‘Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer’, and other such melodies. There were snowmen, reindeer, elves...

All it needs is snow. Dave couldn’t remember the last time there had been a white Christmas. Not since he was a child, that was for sure.

They reached the hut where Dave fished out his wallet and paid for Chris’s entry. An ‘elf’ showed them the way, and soon they reached what appeared to be a small Swiss chalet, closed on three sides. A guy stood a few feet in front of the scene with a camera on a tripod, presumably to capture the moment. Dave couldn’t see the big guy: a group of three children and their mother blocked his view.

Then they were ushered toward the exit on the opposite side, and a beaming elf beckoned for Dave and Chris to step forward.

And what’s your name?

Dave came to a halt. Father Christmas had never sounded like that. It was a rich, warm, deep voice. Chris approached the figure seated in a huge chair surrounded by presents wrapped in shiny paper. His suit was a sumptuous red, lined with white fur, and unlike the Santas Dave remembered, he wasn’t fat. Not that he was skinny either: the suit couldn’t disguise thick, muscular arms and a broad chest. His beard was a tumbling mass of white curls, and—

Blue-grey eyes regarded him, and Dave swallowed. Wow.

Whoever was hiding under that suit was one good-looking man.

Santa’s eyes twinkled. Well, hello.

Before Dave could return the greeting, Chris spun around and gave Dave a hard stare. Dad. Please...

Dave nodded. I’ll be over there. Out of earshot. Will that do?

Chris smiled. Thank you.

Dave gave a nod to Santa, then retreated to stand behind the photographer. Then he shifted even farther back. This was obviously important to Chris. Then he smiled. Lucky Chris. I wouldn’t have minded sitting on that Santa’s knee.

He stood still, overcome by the momentousness of the observation. How long had it been since another man had grabbed his attention? Dave couldn’t get past the feeling that somewhere, Matt was grinning, and saying ‘About bloody time.’

Jeff Nicholson was doing his best to pay attention to the boy standing beside his chair, and not his hot dad several feet away. Which was harder than he anticipated, because Dad was just his type. Tall, short black hair, five o’clock shadow, blue eyes, a lean frame...

Then he remembered he had a job to do, even if this kid was his last customer of the day before his shift ended. Five hours of smiling had made his face ache, but he pasted one on for every child who stopped by.

Hello. I’m Chris. The boy held out his hand. Do you prefer Santa, or Father Christmas?

Jeff had to smile at that. Cute kid. Whichever you want. Let’s stick with Santa. They shook hands. He was a beautiful boy, with large blue eyes and a mop of shaggy strawberry blond hair covering his forehead and reaching past his ears.

His dad is just as gorgeous. Different colouring, but damn...

Okay, Chris, what would you like for Christmas? Jeff awaited the usual requests: tech, phones, games... Gone were the days of Action Man and teddy bears.

Nothing, really.

Jeff blinked. Okay.... he enunciated. But there must be something, or else why would you come to see me?

Chris stared at the white felt beneath his shuffling feet.

Jeff lowered his voice. You can tell me. I’m Santa, remember?

Chris snuck a glance over to where his dad stood. "Well... there is one thing."

At last. And what’s that?

The kid bit his lip, and it was adorable. It’s not for me, though.

Adorable and sweet. His parents were lucky. Jeff had seen some vile, greedy kids during the past week. You can still tell me.

Chris sucked in a breath and met Jeff’s gaze. You can do anything, right? I mean, you’re Santa.

He gave Chris a warm, reassuring smile. Of course.

Another moment of hesitation, and Jeff wondered what on earth was coming. Chris huffed out