Santa's Coming

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 13,429
0 Ratings (0.0)

“Daddy, Daddy, Santa’s coming,” the boy yelled on the twelfth day before Christmas, the day when lonely and disabled 43-year-old Santa and 25-year-old Don noticed each other. On Christmas Day, a 9-year-old boy discovers Santa really does exist. Next day, he, his widowed mother and younger brother meet a lonely widowed dad and his two similar aged boys. Do Santa and Don become friends? What happens on the twelfth day of Christmas? Does Santa come again?

Santa's Coming
0 Ratings (0.0)

Santa's Coming

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 13,429
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Martin Jardin

“A neighbourhood friend is in similar circumstances, married twelve years when his wife died last year, collapsed from a brain tumour. Two boys, now aged eight and five. Chris also mentioned Robbie to me and why you’re here today.”

I smiled. “Play Stations. After an hour with Chris demonstrating them in the toy department, I think I’m an expert now.”

Mike chuckled. “Me, too, and the kids must have told me the title of every favourite game a thousand times.”

I paused, glanced down, then at him. “Are you married or have a partner, Mike?” I asked, observing him drop his gaze to his cup and grip his hands.


When he raised his head, I noticed a veil clouding his gaze. “Same here, I’m still single. Can’t find the right g…person.”

“I did enjoy a long relationship, Don. Ended four years ago.”

“Did you? Do you mind telling me what happened?”

“Not now.”

“I’m sorry. I feel I’ve intruded.”

“You haven’t.”

“I’d love to stay longer,” I whispered, seeing the boy returning, “but I’d better get Chris home before Lindy starts worrying.”

“I understand. Let me cover the bill, I get a staff discount.”

“You seem to have been through a war, Mike,” I mentioned on the way to the elevator, nodding to his limping leg and noticing a film of sweat on his brow.

“A stupid accident.”

In the car park, Mike paused and leaned on a pillar beside his old sun-bleached Toyota in order to take the weight off his leg, his face frowning in pain.

“Anything I can do?”

“No, Don,” he murmured, wincing, hopping to the driver’s door. “Once I sit, I’ll be okay.”

I liked him. I enjoyed his company, but he’s straight, so why proceed, what’s to be gained? No way would he be interested in me. I want a boyfriend, a lover, a partner, a person I can touch, cuddle and kiss, and do other stuff. I realised though, he would be a good friend to have, despite the age difference. He’s attractive, but not pretty with those acne scars and age lines. I pondered the pros and cons as we sat in traffic, selecting drive to proceed a block to the next lights. On the way, I remembered the farewell, his strong handgrip lasting a moment too long, a reluctance or pleading innocence in his eyes, his smile manly yet message laden, maybe seductive. I wondered if he was lonely or if his ex was tormenting him. And, come to think, what happened to his lisp?

A text beep interrupted my thoughts while I drove. “What’s this message say, Chris?” I asked, passing the mobile to him.

“R u free 4 dinner, 2nyt? M.” He peered at me, grinning when I glanced at him, the message surprising, yet intriguing.

“Please reply, yes. Mention, I’ll call him in an hour when I get home."

“Done,” he announced. “How do you spell excited?”

“Why?” I asked while slowing to stop at another red light.

“I thought I’d add that you’re really excited.”

“Don’t even try, you little wascal!” I said, chuckling, tickling his side to his squirms and squeals of laughter.

He quietened, gazing at me. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” I answered, now regretting my impulsive haste to reply to Mike.

“I wish Mum could meet a nice friend, she’s lonely, you know. Do you think she might?”

“I’m sure she will and soon, let’s hope.”

“I hope so. Little Robbie sure needs a daddy’s lap to sit in, like Santa’s.”

“Mike’s a sweet guy, isn’t he, Chris?”

“Yes, and he likes you, too, and you know, he’s the gayest Santa I’ve ever met.”

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