Ford Gamble is my dad’s best friend. He’s also the reclusive keeper of the Conception Ridge lighthouse. I remember a time when he was around more—the perfect, hotter-than-sin fodder for all my teenage fantasies. And if I’m being honest, for most of my fantasies since then too. . . Now there’s just enough silver in his shock of sexy hair and thick beard that he looks a little like a hot forty-year-old Santa with six-pack abs. And that’s what has me heading to the lighthouse on a dark, stormy Christmas Eve when the retirement home where I work needs a fill-in Mr. Claus for their annual celebration. Except I underestimate the bad weather. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in his bed, and I realize I may have revealed my forbidden fantasies to him in my feverish sleep. Can I convince him to finally let me call him Daddy Christmas? Or will he deny he shares my taboo feelings? Because I know Ford can’t stop looking at me with a wild heat in his gaze. And my desperate Christmas wish is that he’s thinking about corrupting his little, not-so-innocent angel.
