Holly Garland on Santa's Lap [COMPLETE]

CHAPTER 7 ~In need~

Nick hops in next to me, shuts the door, and says all casual,

"Alright, we're good to go!"

He's grinning like we're about to head off on some vacation with old friends, but in reality, we're sitting in a car with a couple of complete strangers.

Unless... these are some of Nick's buddies coming to the rescue? Maybe one of them is the guy he was supposed to call at noon?

"Great!" says the middle-aged guy in the driver's seat. "Nice to meet you, I'm Peter Garrett, and this is my wife, Beth. And you must be Ginger, right? That's what your husband just told me."

"My husband?" I repeat, totally dumbfounded.

Nick, sitting next to me, elbows me discreetly in the ribs and throws an arm around my shoulders.

"Yeah," he answers for me since I'm just sitting there, mute and dumbfounded. "We're newlyweds. My wife's still floating on cloud nine."

I give my "husband" a suspicious look.

Clearly, these aren't people he knows.

So, what the hell are we doing here?

"Oh, how romantic!" swoons the woman in the passenger seat. "I remember our honeymoon phase like it was yesterday. I'd blush every time someone called me Mrs. Garrett. So, what's your last name, by the way?"

"Uh... White!"

"Hawthorn!"

Nick and I blurt out different names at the same time... Awesome. Totally convincing.

"Well, my maiden name's White, and my married name is Hawthorn, but I'm still getting used to it!" I laugh awkwardly, trying to smooth things over.

"Oh, I was the same way!" Beth laughs, too.

"Alright then, off we go, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorn!" Pete declares theatrically, stepping on the gas and pulling us out of there.

For a second, I feel relieved.

Once again, we're slipping out of the grip of that hitman and whoever could have hired him. And, most importantly, Nick didn't leave me behind.

He's right here, still next to me, and he's even got his arm around me, playing the part of the charming, attentive husband.

It shouldn't matter if he ditched me or not.

Yesterday morning, I didn't even know the guy existed. He's nothing to me. The fact that he could've run off, leaving me behind, and I'd never have to see him again shouldn't bother me at all. Nick should mean no more to me than a waiter at a restaurant or a cashier at a store. "Hi, thanks, goodbye," and that's it.

But nope! Somehow, I've managed to drag my libido—once peacefully asleep—into this mess. And maybe, just maybe, my heart, too. And now here I am, all safe and snug in his arms, feeling completely dependent. It's pathetic!

"Your story is just so sad," the woman in the front suddenly pipes up, catching me off guard. "Your husband told us how you got robbed by that awful hitchhiker dressed as Santa who took everything from you—even your husband's clothes! I can't believe he even stole your wedding rings. That's just shameful!"

Yeah, it's really shameful... to be telling such horrible lies to these nice people. I just nod and shrink down in my seat.

Her husband chimes in, too.

"Yeah, sometimes people are pushed to desperate measures, making them do bad things," Peter says gently.

Yes ! He totally gets it!