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“This is your fault. Hey, eyes up here,” Jacob snapped. Connolly pulled his gaze to sea glass colored eyes that were now glaring in his direction. “How so?” “You’re Santa. I’m an elf. Clearly, you were my supervisor. Isn’t this some kind of violation of your position?” Connolly pinched his lips together to hold back a laugh.
“I can’t imagine anybody imagines losing their virginity to Santa, wearing an elf crop top and a holiday jock strap, but the imagery is definitely working for me. I’m still down if you are?”
“I’m your third husband? Isn’t that a little greedy?” Jacob huffed. “You’re awfully judgey for somebody who grew up in a cult where the leader had, like, six wives. I’m not keeping my other two spouses in the cellar. They’re my ex’s. Also, you’re my first husband.”
I’m married to an alcoholic who clearly likes to fight and dresses up like Santa and is dumb enough to get seduced into marriage by a virgin in an elf costume after the worst pick up line ever. What the frick?”
He didn’t know what drunk Jacob had intended when he’d propositioned that huge, furry lumberjack of a man, but now, he definitely wasn’t sure he was tall enough to ride that ride.
“You’re really good at this husband thing,” Jacob said, his tone conversational. Connolly’s laugh was brittle. “I have two divorces that say otherwise, but I’m glad you think so.” Jacob’s expression turned serious, and it made Connolly feel weirdly exposed. “Maybe you just weren’t with the right person.”
He’d woken with this tiny elf of a boy in his bed, and now, he was weaving some kind of spell over Connolly, knitting their lives together somehow like he was some magical creature.
“Can… Can I touch you?” Jacob asked. “Sweetheart, I can say with almost a hundred percent certainty that I’d let you stab me if you asked while looking at me the way you’re looking at me right now.”
“Who the fuck cares what other people think? I haven’t felt this good around another person in years, and I don’t want to give it up. I don’t want to give you up.” Jacob smiled. “I don’t want to give you up either.” “Then let’s not. I have this funny feeling like you and I could end up being a thing.” Jacob frowned. “What kind of thing.” Connolly shook his head. “The best kind. The forever kind.”
Jacob burst into tears. He didn’t mean for it to happen, but it just did. One minute, he was a nervous wreck, and the next, he was full-blown ugly crying. Killian pulled him close, not even trying to stem the flow of tears. “What am I going to do with you, my soft-hearted boy?”
“When I woke up, half naked in your bed that morning, I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams that we’d have this life together,” Jacob said wistfully, not for the first time. “Me either,” Killian said. “But drunk me and drunk you somehow recognized each other for what we are.” “Soulmates?” Jacob said with a smile. “Crazy,” Killian said around a laugh.
