Dear Santa: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Author’s Note

  Dear Santa

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Making His Baby

  Overlooked

  Going Down

  Relentless Pursuit (Preview)

  Never (Preview)

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 by Lulu Pratt

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Author’s Note

  Dear Santa is a full-length 60,000+ word novel. Please note it ends at 21%.

  I’ve included several complete bonus books for your enjoyment.

  I have also included the first five chapters of my two latest books, Relentless Pursuit and Never.

  Thank you for reading this. I hope you enjoy Dear Santa.

  Happy reading,

  Lulu xoxo

  Dear Santa

  I’m snowed in with my neighbor for Christmas

  Someone put a note under my door that says Dear Santa, Sarah needs a man

  I ain’t no Santa but I’m happy to play along with whatever game is going on

  Especially if my neighbor’s been a naughty girl this year

  She needs a place to stay for the holidays, so I invite her to stay with me at my cabin in the woods

  Now we’re snowed in here for Christmas

  I’m entranced by her curves, but it’s her eyes that melt my icy soul

  She’s definitely a good girl — one I plan to keep

  The only thing I want for Christmas is to f*ck her all day long in front of the roaring fire

  Except I can’t shake my guilt

  I’ll do everything I can to make up for what I did to her

  Because there’s no way I’m losing her now

  ***A steamy STANDALONE contemporary romance with a smoking hot hero. No cliffhanger, no cheating and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.***

  Chapter 1

  Sarah

  I work at a school in Colorado, and during the school holidays, I have a lot of time to myself. I’m lucky in that regard, I have a job that has a lot of vacation. Where I’m not so lucky, is in how I spend my time. I’m single with few friends, and very often, I don’t know what to do with myself.

  To keep myself busy, I spend time creating art, puttering around in the garden or rearranging my furniture. I like to think I’m a creative person, and if I had the choice, I would paint the wall every so often, too, just for a change of pace.

  Unfortunately, this house isn’t mine. I’m only renting. I’d love to have a house to call my own, but living here isn’t a bad deal. My landlord doesn’t charge much at all for a house this size, he sends someone to fix things when they break, and even though I have never seen my landlord, we have a good business relationship. I pay on time, he maintains the place and we never bother each other.

  One of the few things I enjoy when I’ve got downtime is taking care of my niece. My sister is married, and from time to time, I babysit her daughter Lindsay.

  Lindsay’s seven, and I adore her. She’s a ray of sunshine and always up to something. Children put the life back into living, and if it weren’t for her, I’m sure my existence would be even more dull than it already is. I’m lucky that I get to see her as often as I do. As a single woman, my life would have been very boring without a child in it. Still, I’m only twenty-five, and I have time to find my Prince Charming.

  I only wish I knew where to look.

  I hear a car pull up my driveway, and I open the front door, already smiling. Lindsay gets out of Monica’s car and runs to me, her arms wide.

  “Aunt Sarah!” she says, wrapping both arms around me.

  “Hello, Lindsay,” I say, squeezing her to me. “I missed you.”

  “Not as much as I missed you,” Lindsay says, and I smile again.

  Monica walks up with Lindsay’s overnight bag, and she’s laughing. “Sometimes, I think she loves you more than she loves me.”

  I shake my head. “That’s only because here we have fun and nothing else. At your place, there are rules, but you will always be mommy. You can never replace that.”

  “You’re right,” Monica says, hugging me. My sister is three years older than me, and she got married quite young. Most of the time, I’m happy to tap into her family life, enjoy it for a while and go home again when I’m tired.

  “So, how did your date go?” Monica asks as we walk into the house together.

  “It was okay. I don’t think he’s the man for me.” I take Lindsay’s bag from my sister and put it down next to the couch.

  Monica gives me “the look,” and I already know what she’s going to say.

  “You can’t reject every man you meet,” she says. “Sometimes, you have to accept their flaws.”

  “You’re right,” I say with a sigh. “But if I don’t feel I’m being treated right, I’m not going to settle, just for the sake of settling. After how Jacob treated me, I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “When are you leaving, Mom?” Lindsay asks. She’s always eager to spend time with me alone.

  “Almost, honey,” she says, patting Lindsay’s head. To me, she adds, “All I’m saying is that you could give them a chance. You need a man, Sarah.”

  I don’t like talking about this in front of Lindsay. Once upon a time, she was a toddler and didn’t understand what we were talking about. Now, she’s old enough to know exactly what we’re saying.

  “Why don’t you head out?” I say to Monica to get her out of the house. “Go on. Go spend some quality time with Larry. Lindsay and I have some catching up to do.”

  As my sister, she lectures me often enough. I don’t need to be told who I should and shouldn’t date. She is the one who introduced me to Jacob back in college, and that ended in a disaster.

  I pushed the memories out of my head and give Monica a bright smile. She nods, hugging me, ready to leave us alone now.

  “Be good,” Monica says to Lindsay, hugging her. “I’ll see you tomor
row, and I don’t want to hear from Sarah that you did anything wrong. Christmas is coming, and you want to stay on the nice list.”

  When Monica leaves, I turn to Lindsay.

  “What do you want to do?” I ask. “We can draw. We can make cookies. Anything you like.”

  “I want to write a letter to Santa,” Lindsay says.

  I nod. “We can definitely do that,” I say. “Let’s go get pens and paper.”

  Lindsay and I find the supplies in my desk, and I walk with her to the living room. I bought crayons, glitter and colored pencils for Lindsay the last time she visited, and we’re going to use all of them now.

  We sit together on the carpet and create our letters to Santa. When we are done, we read them out to each other. Lindsay wants a new bike, pink princess shoes that she saw in the shop the other day and enough treats that her teeth will fall out. I laugh, taking mental notes so I can tell Monica. When I read Lindsay my wish list, she pulls a face.

  “What do you want clothes and make-up for?” she asks.

  I shrug. “When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

  We decorate our letters until it’s time for me to start cooking dinner.

  “Are you going to help me in the kitchen?” I ask

  Lindsay shakes her head. “I think I’m going to draw some more,” she says.

  I nod and walk to the kitchen. I start cooking dinner, throwing together chicken mayo sandwiches for us. After a while, I hear the front door close.

  “Lindsay?” I call.

  “Yes?” she answers. She comes into the kitchen, and she has glitter all over her face. I laugh and find the dishrag to wipe it off.

  “Were you outside just now?” I ask.

  Lindsay nods, her face moving under the cloth on her cheek.

  “Sweetie, you shouldn’t leave the house without asking permission. I hope you put on a jacket. It’s freezing outside. I think it’s going to snow soon. Where did you go?”

  “I did put on a jacket, and I delivered my letter to Santa.”

  I frown, putting the cloth on the counter. “We are supposed to mail the letters to the North Pole. Santa doesn’t live close by.”

  “Yes, he does,” Lindsay says. “He lives right next door.”

  “What?” I ask. “You delivered the letter next door?”

  I live at the end of a dead-end street, so I’ve only got one neighbor, but I don’t know him. We’ve nodded at each other once or twice from a distance. He’s about my age and keeps to himself, just like I do, but we’ve never spoken. I know what he looks like and what car he drives, but that’s about it.

  Lindsay nods again, and my stomach flips a little. I’m embarrassed. I take a deep breath and remind myself that my neighbor won’t know where Lindsay’s letter came from. Still, I feel like I want to go next door and see if I can get that letter back.

  “Did you put it in the mailbox?” I ask.

  Lindsay shakes her head. “I didn’t see a mailbox. So, I put it through the slot in the door.”

  Well, so much for that plan. Not that I would have gone around stealing his mail anyway. I take a deep breath and shrug off the embarrassment. What’s done is done, and I doubt it will matter. It’s just a child sending a letter to Santa. Hopefully, my neighbor will understand.

  Chapter 2

  Graham

  I don’t often dress up in costumes for parties, but this year, I’m the designated driver, and I have to do something to make it fun for myself. I’m dressed up as Santa, leaning against the bar, watching my friends get drunk. I’m usually right there with them, downing beers until the room spins, but not tonight. Oddly enough, it’s kind of fun to be on the outside for a change, watching them make fools of themselves.

  I scratch my chin. The fake beard is starting to irritate me, and I’m getting hot in this suit as well. I rented it especially for the party, unwilling to be an elf or to sport a red nose and antlers like Rudolph. There aren’t many options for Christmas costumes. There are two more Santas in the bar, but I’m the only one in our group of friends.

  It works for me. I like being different.

  A curvy woman in an elf outfit that’s way too tight walks up to me. “How about you and I find somewhere quiet, and you grant all my wishes?”

  She’s had too much to drink. Her red lipstick is smudged a little, and her eyes are glazed.

  “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” I say.

  She pouts, and I wonder if she’s going to insist, but she shimmies away with rolling hips and wobbly legs, and I’m relieved.

  “Come on, pal,” Joe says. “That was easy pickings.”

  I chuckle. I didn’t realize one of my friends was close enough to witness it. “I don’t mind an easy piece of ass, but I have some taste.”

  “I would have said yes if I wasn’t married,” Joe says.

  I shrugged. “Be my guest,” I say with a smile.

  Joe grins at me, shakes his head, but he doesn’t pursue her. Just what I thought.

  Finally, everyone is ready to leave. We’ve been at the bar the whole afternoon and the better part of the evening. After I drop everyone off, it’s about eleven, and I head home. All the houses along my street, except mine, are covered with Christmas decorations. Strings of lights flash, mistletoe hangs on some of the porches, and there is red and green everywhere. As soon as it starts snowing, it will complete the picture. Aside from a light smattering of snow at the beginning of the season, it’s been dry. The snow is holding back, and everyone is hoping that it will fall in time for a white Christmas.

  I walk up to my house, dark and deserted. I prefer living alone. There was a time when I lived with a woman, but it ended badly, and the worst part was coming home to a place that suddenly felt empty. Of course, that didn’t last very long. My house became my own again, and it’s been that way ever since.

  I unlock my door and step into the dark house. Something crackles beneath my foot. I flip on the light switch and look down. A pink envelope lies on the floor just inside the front door. I frown. Usually, I get my letters in the mailbox.

  I open the letter, and glitter falls out. I shake my hand and then my foot. Why the hell do people make this shit? I hate glitter.

  It won’t be from any of my tenants. I’m in construction, and I bought a couple of rundown homes, fixed them up, and now, I rent them out. I keep my tenants at arm’s length. None of them know where I live, and I prefer to keep it that way. I like to keep my personal life separate from my business life.

  I unfold the letter, and more glitter sprinkles on my hands. When I read the letter, I realize it’s a letter to Santa. Some kid must have put it in my mail slot, but who? It can’t be Britney’s kids. They live too far to do something like this. Besides, my sister and her children don’t exactly have the best life with that goddamn husband of hers.

  At the bottom of the letter, a postscript has been added in a different color. Please bring a man for my Aunt Sarah, it reads. It’s signed, “Lindsay.”

  I don’t know Lindsay, but I do know a Sarah. She’s one of my tenants, and she lives next door. I don’t remember her having any children, but it would make sense how the letter ended up inside my house. In fact, as I was leaving the house this afternoon I remember seeing a woman and young girl walking up her driveway.

  I walk to the window in my living room and look out. The house next door is quiet, but I see movement on the porch, revealing Sarah, my tenant. I quickly get out of my Santa suit, and I decide to speak to her.

  “Evening,” I say as I walk up the path.

  Sarah jumps and turns around. “Oh, God,” she says. Her hand is clutched to her chest, but she is smiling.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I live next door. I got this letter in my mail slot.” I take the three steps up onto the porch. “I presume this belongs to you?”

  “Oh, that,” Sarah says. “My niece and I were writing letters to Santa this afternoon. She told me he lives next door. She must have slipped it in wh
en I wasn’t looking.”

  She looks embarrassed. It’s endearing.

  “Yeah, that’s what it is. I was wearing a Santa suit on my way to a party earlier today. She must have seen me coming out of the house.” I look down at the letter and smile. “She even considered you in her Christmas wish list.”

  When Sarah frowns at me, I hand her the letter. She reaches inside the front door and switches on the porch light. The light illuminates her face, and she looks even prettier. I’ve seen her in the daytime, too, but I haven’t paid much attention. Light brown hair hangs over her shoulders, and she has a stunning figure, but it’s her eyes that get me. They are dark, liquid brown and drowning deep. I watch her as her eyes flick over the note. When she reads the last line, her cheeks become bright red. She’s beautiful when she blushes. She turns those eyes to me and shakes her head.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  I chuckle. “I gather you don’t have a man? I’m Graham, by the way.”

  She blushes even more and shakes her head. “I’m not exactly desperate for one, either, as this suggests. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say, chuckling. “If it’s not rude to ask, can I have your number? You know, seeing as how we’re neighbors and all.”

  I know I might be pushing it, but when a woman this beautiful arrives in your life, you make sure she stays in it. I don’t expect her to give me her number, though. She doesn’t know me at all.

  “Okay,” she says in a soft voice.

  I’m surprised and thrilled. Of course, I already have her number. She’s a tenant. But I’m not going to tell her that. I don’t want her to know that I’m her landlord, at least not for now.

  I take my phone out of my pocket and hand it to her so she can save her digits in my contacts. When she hands me my phone, she shrugs.

  “It’s the least I can do after Lindsay’s letter.” She still looks embarrassed, and I love it. She’s adorable when she’s blushing.

  “Thank you, Sarah,” I say pretending to look at her name on the telephone. “I’m not going to hang around here at this time of night any longer, or you’ll think I’m a creeper,” I say with a grin, and she smiles back at me. “Good night.”