Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
His grin said I was right, but the confession followed quickly. “If you answer all the questions…all the questions…just right it narrows down the algorithm so your profile doesn’t show for nearly anyone else but one or two people.”
Well, that explained a few things.
“So…me and your stalker?” When he went back to trying to find every flaw in my ceiling, I knew I was right again. “Trippy, is there a Secret Santa?”
His frown worried me.
“Technically yes.”
His pleased expression worried me even more.
“How technically?”
“Well.” Wiggling again, he looked more like a naughty kid than a sexy brat who was trying to make me hard. “The regular Santa didn’t get me what I wanted last year, so he just needed some help.”
And we were losing our bigness very quickly.
“Did you ask Santa for me last year?” His nod made me wonder what I’d missed, but we could come back to that another time. “Did you actually go sit on Santa’s lap?”
Yep.
“Yes, grown-ups do that too. I saw lots. But he didn’t know what to do so I had to help.” Orlando’s oh well shrug said he really didn’t think there was anything wrong with whatever he’d done. “I thought and thought and thought and then I figured it out.”
“Let’s try this again. Is there a Secret Santa, and if there is, who is it?” When I could almost hear the wheels in his head grinding to figure out a good answer, I did my best to look concerned and slightly sad. “I’m trusting you to be honest, Trippy. You don’t want me to worry.”
Bingo.
His glare was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. “That’s cheating. Terrence said so.”
Fucking hell.
“Is he your Secret Santa?”
No, but I was close based on how much drama Orlando radiated as he slumped into me.
“Enzo was his Secret Santa. Terrence liked it. A lot.” Shrugging, Orlando still didn’t actually seem to understand manipulating me had been wrong. “He’s smart and Enzo had good ideas. We helped him.”
“Just to make sure I have this straight…you don’t have a Secret Santa but Enzo was the real one and that was just for Terrence?” When Orlando nodded without looking like he had to confess anything else, I sighed. “Was that the right thing to do?”
“Yes.” Popping up, Orlando looked like he thought I was stupid. “I did a good job and I was Santa’s helper. He didn’t know how to get you for me.”
Great.
“You were Santa’s little faker, not his helper.”
I knew I was right but Orlando crossed his arms over his chest. “You listened first. You started it.”
Fucking hell.
Chapter 21
Orlando
“You listened.” I shrugged. He didn’t like it but he’d been naughty. “I wasn’t supposed to tell about Enzo, so I couldn’t tell you about Terrence being little until I knew you were a Daddy.”
Ha.
“You were pretending not to be a Daddy, so I couldn’t tell.” Yep, I’d been a good boy. “Now I can tell because now you tell me Daddy stuff.”
Daddy scrunched up his face.
Daddy got thinky.
Daddy sighed.
Yay.
“I will accept some of that logic even though it’s ridiculous and your timeline is questionable. But no more making me think you have a stalker.” Daddy got growly when I giggled. “You made me crazy.”
Everybody else was crazy too.
“You saved me.” I gave Daddy’s cheek a kiss. “Thank you.”
Grumble.
Grumble.
Grumble.
“I still can’t believe your mother came here to find you.” Daddy glared toward the front of the house. “One of our neighbors tattled.”
Naughty neighbors too.
“And I really can’t believe she still thinks you have an issue with gluten.” Daddy shook his head and slouched in his big chair. “You’re allergic to pomegranates. Not pasta.”
“You remembered.” Best Daddy ever. “Thank you.”
Daddy went very still and made his big breath again. “They keep forgetting that, don’t they?”
“Yep.” I gave Daddy my oh well shrug. “Too much fishing.”
No laugh.
No laugh.
No laugh.
Daddy had his serious face. “You cried wolf so many times she’s forgotten what you’re actually allergic to?”
“Being a mom is hard?” That’s what she said. “Oops.”
“Lord.” Daddy was naughty but looked up at the sky to say sorry to God and Santa. “That’s okay. I will remember what you’re allergic to.”
“’Cause you’re my Daddy.” I knew it. I was Santa’s good helper. “You take care of me.”
Daddy got his worry face on. “But I can only take good care of you if you—”
“No playing pretend.” I gave Daddy another kiss to distract him. “No pretend for me and no pretend for Daddy.”
Ha.
“Yes, no pretending I’m not your Daddy.” Cuddling me tighter, he made our special chair go back and forth. “It’s going to be much easier to keep my eye on you now.”
Naughty spy and naughty helper.
We matched.
“You’re my good Daddy.”
Smart Daddy.
Hmm.
“How did you know, Daddy?”
Daddy grinned.
Naughty Daddy.
“You didn’t have any of the presents you talked about in your house and you left the receipt for the flowers on the kitchen table.” Daddy shook his head and gave me a silly smile. “It just took me a while to realize what I saw.”