"That would be true, if it were going to be just a little snow. But it's supposed to be a Northeaster," Kate says. "It's seven right now and already laying on the ground outside. The wedding planner is going crazy. Didn't you see her earlier, freaking out?"
"I figured that was just about wedding stuff," I say. I intentionally leave out the part where I was busy fielding ridiculous requests from my mother and the wedding planner, Rebecca, to "up the ante" with the wedding. Their most recent stroke of brilliance was their idea to have a white tiger cub to carry the rings down the aisle.
Ella's promise to keep things manageable and under control might have fallen by the wayside.
I don't tell Kate that. I think her head would explode if she knew they'd even asked about a white tiger cub as the ring bearer.
Although, really, who doesn't want tigers in their wedding ceremony?
"I had to tell them not to order sleighs," Kate says. "And horses. Actual real-life horses. They want to have sleighs bring people to the ceremony if we get snowed in."
"Or snowmobiles. Actually, that's not a half-bad idea," I say. Then I see the look on Kate's face. "Or…that's an awful idea. How could they even consider that?"
Inside the house, we cut through the kitchen. Rose is there, directing catering staff with all of the precision and authority of a military general. "Are you kids escaping from your own party?" she asks.
"We just wanted to come inside and...visit you," Kate says, exaggerated innocence in her voice.
Rose laughs. "Shoo," she says, gesturing at us. "I know you're trying to sneak off to get some time alone."
"What?" Kate squeaks. "Never."
"Get out of my kitchen," Rose says. "And if you see your father, tell him the wedding planner is waiting for his entrance."
"His entrance?" Kate asks.
"He got a Santa outfit," Rose says, shaking her head. "Didn't he tell you?"
"A Santa outfit?" I ask. Somehow I can't picture the Senator in a Santa costume. He doesn't seem like the type to tolerate frivolity in any form.
"It was his idea, not mine," Rose says, shaking his head. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He wanted to do it for the kids at the rehearsal dinner tonight, since it's so close to Christmas. I thought it'd be good for him to do something like that."
"Huh," Kate says, before taking my hand and pulling me to the door. "Well, we'll go back out there soon."
"Your father is dressing up as Santa?" I ask her when we're out of the kitchen.
"I don't know what's going on," she says, giving me a wide-eyed look. "He didn't do anything like that when I was a kid. Maybe he's trying to make up for it now."
"Maybe he's taking antidepressants," I say.
"He has seemed more upbeat lately," Kate says. "I thought it was because we were getting married."
"Let's stop talking about your father," I tell her, pressing her back up against the nearest wall in the hallway. I pull her hands above her head, and watch as her breasts rise and fall with each inhale and exhale she makes. "I'd rather talk about what I want to do to you."
"Oh?" she asks. "What do you want to do to me, Caulter Sterling?"
"I want to --"
"Oh God, you already knocked her up, Caulter." I hear Joe say loudly, walking past us. "Get a fucking room."
"Shut up."
"He has a point," Kate says. "We should go to a room. The library?"
"Mmm, the library." My cock hardens at the mere mention of the word. I have very good memories of the library.
At the door to the room, Kate pauses. "Peek in first and make sure no one's in there."
"We're adults, you know. You're acting like we're high school students sneaking around trying not to get caught," I whisper back to her.
Kate looks at me with a mischievous grin. "I thought that's the game we were playing," she whispers.
"Naughty Kate." My dick presses against the zipper of my tuxedo pants, the thought of being with Kate in the library giving me the biggest boner ever. My head is spinning with ideas – she's too pregnant for me to take her on the ladder again, so I'll just have to improvise.
I turn the doorknob quietly, and open the door a crack.
And get a view of what's perhaps the most traumatizing thing I've ever seen in my life.
Ella, dressed in a naughty elf costume, is bent over a desk in the library, while Santa smacks her ass.
"Oh, fuck," I whisper, turning around so fast I probably just gave myself whiplash. "Oh God, my eyes. Shit, I need bleach for my brain."
"What's going on?" Kate hisses, pushing me out of the way.
"Don't look in there," I tell her. It's like the image is burned on my brain. I wonder if I can get electroshock therapy to erase my memories. Or maybe a partial lobotomy.
"Don't tell me what to do," Kate says. She looks inside, then whirls around and slaps me hard on the arm.
"What the hell was that for?"
"Why did you let me see that?" she whispers frantically, a panicked and pained expression her face.
"I told you not to look in there!"
"It's my father," she says with disgust. "And Ella."
"Yeah, I know," I say. "Talk about a fucking boner killer."
"Dressed as Santa and an elf!"
"I saw it. Stop reminding me."
"My father was spanking your mother!" Kate slaps me on the arm again. "Oh God. I could hear them talking."