“Merry Christmas,” Sandy Jansen murmured to herself, staring in her office mirror. She closed her eyes, trying to avoid the sadness in her own reflection. She loved Christmas, loved the decorations, loved the festivities, loved the joy of the entire season, but this year that joy was sorely lacking.

It had been for five months, ever since the day she’d watched Logan Perrish’s very fine ass walk out of her life.

It was silly because she’d known he was just a fling. Hell, it’d even been her idea. But she hadn’t known that she’d miss the NASCAR star as much as she had.

Or that all these months later, she’d still remember his smile, his warm, dark eyes, how she’d melted at the sight of him. And when he’d touched her… well. She’d gone up in flames for him, all of her, including her damn heart.

Sandy opened her eyes but didn’t meet her own gaze again. Instead she looked at the rest of her. As the town clerk of Lucky Harbor, she’d come to the annual employee Christmas cocktail party in a cute little red dress, her “holiday” dress, which never failed to cheer her up. Being all of five foot two was a bit of a problem, but her four-inch Manolo knockoffs helped.

What hadn’t helped her was the costume she now had on over her sexy little red dress, complete with a stuffed belly and butt, white beard and wig, red fur-lined hat, and the final touch, thick wire-rimmed glasses.

Santa Claus.

From outside her office and down the hall, there was only silence. The party had emptied out, leaving her alone in the building. Tomorrow night, Christmas Eve, everyone in town would be here for the annual Christmas parade, which Santa would head up in the same 1972 Buick convertible, aka rust bucket, that they’d been using for years. The evening would culminate at the end of the pier, with all the kids lining up to sit on Santa’s lap so they could whisper their holiday wish.