Her Christmas Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #5) - Jessica Clare Page 0,31

costumes were in her office, so Amy headed in that direction and pushed the door open gently and turned on the light. Hanging from a hook on the wall were dry cleaner bags with AMY and CALEB paper signs taped to them. The rest of the office was covered in Christmas decor, interspersed with family photos of Sage and her husband cuddling their children. Amy picked up a recent photo, absolutely in love with Sage’s brilliantly happy smile and the dimples on the fat baby she was holding.

“Ugly sweater,” Caleb told her, leaning over her shoulder to look at the photo.

She chuckled. “It is not,” Amy said, feeling the need to defend Sage and her child even though they really were quite hideous sweaters. “They’re just festive. I like that they’re so happy.” That was the thing with Sage—she really was the happiest person Amy had ever met. It was impossible not to adore her. Amy set the photo down and moved toward the hanging costumes. “We’ll have to try them on—”

“What?” Caleb blurted, looking at her with surprise.

“We’ll have to try them on,” she stated again, pulling the hangers labeled AMY off of the hook. “Sage said there were a few different sizes of costumes, and if none of them fit, we’re going to have to do some emergency letting out. Santa can’t wear skintight clothes, you know.”

He just stared at her, his eyes wide.

She lowered her hanger, frowning at him. “You do know what Santa looks like, right? Kinda fat and jolly?” She wiggled a finger in his direction. “While I appreciate the fitness you’ve got going on, the kids are going to want to see a jolly old elf, so you’re going to need to stuff with a pillow.”

He pulled off his hat and rubbed his head, and she noticed his face was bright red. Aw. He was embarrassed. Poor Caleb.

“It’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “I’ll be at your side the whole time. The kids will love it. Here.” Amy tucked her designated costumes against her body and gestured at the bathroom down the hall. “I’ll go try mine on in the other room and you can shut the office door and try yours. If they don’t fit right, we can go to my place and fix things. That way we’re all set for tomorrow. Okay?”

He said nothing, as usual. Just slowly took down the garment bags with a pained look on his face.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” she told him merrily. “Be right back.”

Amy headed down the hall and closed herself into the tiny municipal office bathroom. The building was an old one, which meant the floors creaked and weren’t all that even, and all the fixtures were old. Even so, it was clean and neat, and she pulled out the first costume and tried it on.

To her dismay, it was far too tiny. Sage was a tall, sturdy woman and so Amy had been hoping that the costume would be roomy, but it was clearly for someone several sizes smaller than her. She put it aside and pulled out two others, giving them both a shot. One was like a tent and draped so low in the front that Amy’s boobs were practically hanging out, so that one wouldn’t work, either. The third dress would have to do. It was a nice costume, red with faux fur trimming around the collar and matching hat and curly, white-haired wig. The skirt was a little shorter than she’d have liked, puffy with a crinoline, and went barely to her knees because it was supposed to show off matching knee-high black boots with white fur cuffs. There were a few problems with the costume, one being that it was extremely tight across the chest and made her nipples and bra show through the fabric. Okay, she’d have to use some tape instead of a bra tomorrow. She’d done that for special occasions in the past and she could do so again. The boots were the other problem—they were tight on her feet and made her toes cramp painfully after a few minutes. She’d take them home anyhow and hope to find something that would look okay with the costume. If not, well, she’d put up with a bit of toe cramping. Amy eyed her figure in the mirror critically. She knew Mrs. Claus was supposed to be frumpy, but the costume was an odd mixture of cheesecake and holiday. Maybe it was her hourglass