Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I enjoy those hard grunts he makes when something is really heavy and the way his arms will flex showing off all those thick muscles he has. But then again, these boxes may be giant to me, but I’m sure they are nothing to him. All I know is that he looks crazy hot no matter what he’s lifting.
“These already have postage on them, right?” Mac asks, catching me trying to stare through his long sleeve shirt that’s hiding everything from me. “Lil bit.” The use of the adorable name he’s given me has me snapping back to attention.
“What?”
He smirks at me. “Do these already have postage?”
“Yes.” I nod. His smirk turns to a full-blown smile for a second before it drops away. His eyes quickly narrow on something behind me. I glance over my shoulder. Ted’s coming our way.
“I was going to text you. You’ve got some crazy mail here waiting for you. We’ve almost run out of room to store it,” Ted says as he draws closer to me. “Let me grab it for you. I could’ve come by later to deliver all of it. It’s too much to put in your box. Figured I could give you a hand.”
“I don’t get much mail.” I shake my head. “So that’s kind of weird.”
Ted follows us into the building.
“Swing by.” Mac grumbles from behind me. “We’ve got it taken care of. I can help my lil bit.” My face flushes at him calling me his in front of other people.
Behind the counter, Jane’s eyebrows raise in clear approval. “Let's get those scanned in for you.” She motions for Mac to bring the packages over, and she starts scanning them in.
When Ted comes from the back of the office a few minutes later, my mouth falls open. He’s dragging two giant sacks. They’re so enormous he can’t even lift them. It reminds me of Santa’s bag of toys, only filled with mail.
“Those are envelopes.” I point out the obvious as I peek inside the bag. I reach in and take one out. It’s addressed to Santa Claus. “They aren't addressed to me.” I flip it around to show Ted. He only laughs.
“I think they are filling that name in because it’s Christmas. It’s your address though.” He has me there; it’s definitely my address. My stomach starts to churn when I open the first letter. As I feared, it’s a letter addressed to Santa. It’s written in red crayon. There must be a mistake. Or the man in my garage wasn’t some crazy person having a mental break. He was really Santa. I shake my head because that’s crazy. And getting his mail is crazy, too.
This isn't happening.
“You’re very popular,” Mac grumbles again as he comes to stand next to me and all the packages that have already been scanned in. I hand him the letter. He quickly reads it. “That’s cute, but why are they coming to you? You set up some sort of exchange or something?”
“These aren't meant for me. You should return them.” That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. No one can prove otherwise.
“If you want.” Ted starts to pull the bags back, but Mac takes hold of them.
“We aren't returning letters that kids sent to Santa. Imagine the heartbreak they’ll feel if they think Santa doesn't give a crap.”
“Oh gosh.” I look up at Mac, who’s glaring at Ted. “I didn't even think about that.”
“I’ll take these.” Mac says, and pulls both bags from Ted, who he is still glaring at. Do these two have some kind of beef or something? As much as I want to know the gossip of why they don’t get along, I don’t have time to get into the details because obviously I now have hundreds of letters to deal with. “Come on, lil bit. Let’s get some food, and then we can figure out what to do about the letters together.” He emphasizes the last word.
“Thanks,” I say to Ted as I pass by him.
Mac gets us all packed back into the truck. I watch as snowflakes start to fall. My eyes sting with tears. I’m going crazy. I glance over my shoulder to the back of the truck to see the two big bags of letters. Or maybe I’m not crazy. The mail is real. Ted sees it and so does Mac. But that would mean the bells I’ve been hearing are real, too. What do they even mean? I take a deep breath. This is a lot to handle.
“What if Santa is real?” I ask Mac as he pulls out of the post office.
“I think that would be kind of cool. This world could use a little magic.” His answer warms my insides.
“Mac.” I sigh his name. He’s already making me feel better. “You’re a gentle giant. Did you know that?”