The next week flies by in a blur. I try to stay with Candy until the sun rises, but sometimes I have to leave right after we fuck. I’m a horny bastard, but her sexual appetite might just surpass mine.

But more and more it’s feeling like something other than just sex. It’s like we crave each other. Which makes things even more complicated.

I’m sitting at my desk, grinning at the last text on my phone from her when Jack comes in, a cool breeze in his wake.

He flops on my couch. “Want to get a drink tonight?”

“Can’t. I have a date.”

I’m cooking Candy dinner tonight at her place. We usually skip the meals, but I want to treat her.

“Again?” At my look he says, “I called last night and Peppermin said you were out. Didn’t know when you’d be back.”

I shrug. “I had a late night.”

Jack slaps his knee. “Am I to assume correctly that you’re getting laid on a regular basis?”

“Maybe.”

“I knew it! How is it?”

This makes me cringe. “I’m not going to discuss my sex life with you.”

“We’ve always swapped stories. Why stop now?”

Because this time things are different. Candy is special.

Jack smiles, understanding. “Ah. I see. Well, when do I get to meet this wonderful girl?”

“Soon.”

And I mean it.

He frowns.

“What?”

“You know I support you, but is that wise right now? Peppermin said the PJH dust levels are getting low-”

It irritates me that my friend and my employee are talking about my business. I’m the one who controls the amount of PJH used.

I stand. “I’m aware. I’m also the only one who can determine how much Peace, Joy, and Happiness dust is needed for the deadline!”

“Chill, man. I’m only saying what the others are afraid to say. Just think about it.”

He leaves before I can reply. Jerk.

I log onto my computer and pull up the current PJH levels. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The levels are much lower than I thought. That means I’ll have to tell Candy everything tonight. It also means we’re going to have to talk about why she’s still on the Naughty List. She won’t be able to visit the North Pole if she’s on that list.

I rub my forehead. It was only a matter of time until everything caught up to us. It seems tonight is that night.

* * *

There’s something off with Nick’s mood this evening, but I can’t place my finger on it. He’s moving his food around on his plate and isn’t talking as much.

“Tough day at work?”

He looks up. “What?”

I point at his plate. “You’re not eating.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Nick?”

He sighs and it scares me for some reason.

“Can we talk?”

Okay. Now I’m terrified. My throat is thick as I swallow my wine.

“Of course.”

He leaves the table and goes into the living room. Instead of sitting on the couch he stands in front of the fireplace. I follow him.

“I don’t know where to begin.”

“You’re kind of freaking me out.”

He mutters, “God, this was so much easier back in the day. People were more willing to believe.”

Believe what? He’s not making a lick of sense.

“Nick?”

“Okay, I’m just going to put it all out there, but you have to promise to hear me out. Can you do that?”

I nod. What choice do I have, especially now that I’m curious?

“My name is Nick Holiday, but you might know me as something else.”

“Have we met before? At a bar?”

That might explain the connection I feel – like we’ve know each other for a long time.

He shakes his head. “Candy, let me get this all out. I promise I will answer any question you have.”

“Okay. So what’s your other name?”

“I have a few. Saint Nicholas. Santa Claus. Kris Kringle. Father Christmas. A handful of other names.” He gives me a look and rushes on, “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. My ex that left me is Merry. She is also known as Mrs. Claus.”

I’ve never passed out, but I’m feeling lightheaded, so I sit on the couch.

He says, “I’ve been using holiday magic to visit you, but it’s been pointed out that the levels are getting low, so tonight is the last time I can see you here. I have to make sure there’s enough magic so I can deliver presents on Christmas Eve.”

Am I being pranked? That would explain so fucking much.

He shakes his head. “This isn’t a prank. And I know that’s what you’re thinking because I can hear thoughts. It’s how I make my lists.”

Lists? Like the song?

He nods. “Yes, like the song. Which brings up another issue. Candy, why are you on the Naughty List? I looked at your file. You were always on the Nice List, but something happened last year and everything changed.”

Holly-jolly-freaking-hell.

“Am I allowed to speak now or is there more?”

His lips lift in a slight smile. “I’m Santa, this is my last visit here, and I need to know why you’re on the Naughty List. That is everything, I think.”