Page 34 of Enduring Christmas

"Let's not talk about this here, Ramsey."

"The anniversary of my little brother's death, your husband, is tomorrow. If I can't talk about it with you," his voice dropped, "then who?"

Xenobia released a breath. She took one look in the direction Luke had been. He was gone. And so was the Christmas fantasy she'd created with him and Shiloh. Ramsey was right. They were all that remained of Rook's life. Rook's memory was hers to bear, just like his hidden sins.

Ramsey had been good to her after Rook's funeral. The husband, who'd never truly belonged to her, had taken the best part of himself to the grave, leaving her to maintain the illusion that he was a happily married man, and her the grieving widow. For Ramsey, the memories dated back to Rook's childhood, their juvenile antics, their coming of age challenges, and into adulthood, and his brother's marriage to her. At the very least, she could let him share his grief.

"Come on. We can talk at my place."

"Let me pay my tab. I had a couple of beers before you arrived."

"I'll take care of it. Let's get out of here and," she took one look at the muscles flexing across her chest, "you need a shirt." And, she wanted Luke.

#

LUKEneeded to find Xenobia. Perhaps he’d over-reacted to her conversation with Callie. After a marriage with the wrong woman, he knew his future happiness lay with Xenobia. As much as he wanted her to never leave his home, she needed to choose him. Luke realized he couldn’t push her into loving him. No Limit’s parking lot was filled with pickups and SUVs, so he was not surprised to arrive at the celebration and find the party in full swing. What did surprise him was the stomp of little feet and his daughter's face, red with anger stating that she didn't like Santa Claus anymore. He wondered who had donned the costume this year, and how bad were they at playing the part.

"Pumpkin, you can't be mad with Santa Claus." Xenobia was nowhere in sight and he wondered had she witnessed the run-in. Where could she be?

"Yes, I can."

"You can't receive all he has to offer, presents and good cheer, if you don't like the messenger, Pumpkin."

"I saw Santa Claus kissing Miss Xenobia and I don't like him anymore. I don't want his stupid presents."

Wait. What?

"Who kissed Xenobia?"

"Bad Santa, Daddy."

Luke called to Owen who was behind the bar refilling pitchers with red and green beer. "Owen, who's playing Santa this year?"

"Couldn't get a volunteer this year, but I did see some half-naked biker type with a Santa hat talking with Xenobia. I think they know each other."

Luke scooped up his daughter. Someone had been naughty and when he found the unknown man, he wouldn't play nice. Problem being, Xenobia was nowhere in sight.

Shiloh started to cry. "Daddy, are you going to get Miss Xenobia back? She's what I want for Christmas."

It was getting late and he didn't want Shiloh to witness any dust-ups with Xenobia or Bad Santa.

"Me too, Pumpkin. I'm going to ask Mrs. Ivy if you can stay with Cai and Baby Grace."

"But, Daddy-,"

"Shh, it's Christmas in the morning. When you wake up, me, you and Miss Xenobia will have our Christmas cake for breakfast."

"You promise, daddy?"

He rubbed her curls with his hand. "I promise."