Tin smiled at me. “Christmas cheer, of course!”
The Carols
As we neared the end of the parking area, Max asked, “So, Sadie, do you have a car? Our ride is kind of out of commission.”
I chuckled, then cringed. “Yeah, about that . . .”
We rounded the corner, and my heart sank as we approached the rustbucket, realization dawning.
“Oh no. Please, no, no, no.” I leaned in. All the presents were gone. “Damn it!”
I slammed the door shut and kicked the tire for good measure, even though it wasn’t the car’s fault I’d stupidly left it wide open in a shady neighborhood.
“What’s wrong?” Tin drew my attention back to my three new elf friends, all watching me with worried expressions.
“I left my car open in my rush to check on the crash, and all my presents have been stolen. This is the worst Christmas ever,” I grumbled and leaned against the car, fighting back tears. Not only would I not be home in time to see my family, but when I did finally get there, I’d be empty-handed.
“Uh, I’m gonna need you to rein in the Grinch attitude.” El shook the snow globe in front of my face. It was an old-fashioned one, with an intricate gold base and a winter scene with a cottage and Christmas trees, but everything was kind of gray, the water murky. It looked dull and flat, despite the level of detail and craftsmanship in the base. “We’re supposed to be recharging this, not draining it further.”
“Elvis, don’t be an asshole,” Tin scolded him.
Max rubbed the back of his black hair. “I’m sorry about your presents, Sadie, but we are on a tight schedule.”
Tin stepped in front of me, blocking the other two from my view, and grabbed my hands. “Ignore them.” He pulled me away from the car and into a hug.
I stiffened for a moment—he was a total stranger—but his strong arms held me tightly around the middle, and he rocked me from side to side, and he smelled amazing! Like mint and an open fire—fresh and comforting at the same time. It made me think of curling up by a roaring fire, a decorated tree in the corner and a mint hot chocolate in my hands while Nat King Cole crooned about a white Christmas.
Before I knew it, I’d relaxed into the hug and closed my eyes, resting my cheek on the soft velvet covering his shoulder.
“Wait.” My eyes snapped open, and I pulled out of the embrace to turn on the other two. “Elvis?”
The redheaded elf crossed his arms. “El is short for Elvis.”
“So . . .” I giggled, my warm breath making puffs in the cold air. “You’re Elvis the elf?”
“Yes. My name is Elvis and I’m an elf. Can we please get on with it?”
Tin and I burst out laughing, and even Max pressed his lips together, visibly holding in his mirth.
Elvis threw his hands up. “My mother was a fan, OK?”
“Yeah, but we do get to pick our elf names, and you chose to stick with it,” Max pointed out, then gestured at Tin. “Meanwhile, this one just assumed you couldn’t keep your given name.”
I turned to Tin with a grin. “What is it?”
He grinned back, not at all bothered by the teasing. “My given name is Timothy, and yeah, I thought we had to pick a Christmassy elf name, so I picked Tinsel. Tim, Tin”— he shrugged—“close enough.”
I laughed and turned to Max, raising a questioning brow.
“My given and elf name is Max—short for Maxwell.”
“Oh.” My shoulders drooped. That wasn’t nearly as fun as the other two.
“Now, is this your car?” With names out of the way, Max was determined to get us moving.
“Yep, and it’s a shitbox that won’t start. Sorry, boys, but I guess we’re walking.”
They all groaned and huffed.
“Wait. Where exactly are you guys taking me? Where are we supposed to go?”
“This neighborhood isn’t particularly . . . cheerful.” El looked around at the plain brick buildings, hardly a decoration in sight. A dog barked in the distance. “I’m sure plenty of these apartments have decorations up and they’re doing Christmas Eve things, but we can’t exactly barge into people’s homes. And that wouldn’t be enough juice anyway. We need a crowd.”
Max whipped out his tablet. “According to the manual, for the power core to recharge, it needs to be in the proximity of people experiencing the ‘holiday spirit.’ It is recommended to seek out larger groups, as this fosters greater spreading of said spirit. Depending on current location, it is suggested we immerse ourselves in the local holiday customs and traditions. Gathering Christmas-related items in order to boost the signal and maintain the charge is also recommended. Once again, these items will be specific to region and customs and may include, but are not limited to, plant materials such as Christmas trees (pine, spruce, fir, etc.), holly, frankincense, myrrh, poinsettias . . .” He trailed off, scrolled, then picked up the list once more. “Food stuffs, such as gingerbread cookies, fruit mince pies, eggnog, mulled wine . . .” He scrolled again. “Decorative and seasonal items, such as baubles, lights, candles, wreaths, ornamental—”
“OK, we get the picture,” Tin interrupted and nudged me with a shoulder. “We just gotta find some people getting their Christmas on.”
What was within walking distance and Christmassy enough to satisfy them? I thought for a moment, then snapped my fingers. “We’ll go to the park. There’s a Christmas concert on—people singing along to carols, waving candles and stuff. And it’s only a fifteen-minute walk.”
Max smiled. “Perfect. Lead the way.”
I nodded and took off down the street.
Tin fell into step next to me. “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” He grinned. “Nice one, Sadie. I knew you could do it.”
“Did you just quote that elf movie?”
“It’s my favorite movie.”
I laughed and leaned against him, wrapping my arm around his as we walked. Ever since he’d hugged me, I just wanted to snuggle back into him, breathe in his comforting smell.
“He says that about all holiday movies,” El interjected.
“And songs,” Max added.
The temperature only continued to drop, but the walk was warming me up, and despite its boring black color, my puffy coat was pretty warm. My one good pair of black boots kept me steady on the icy ground.
As we passed through the park’s main gate, the soft sound of voices singing in chorus reached us. El pulled out the snow globe and smiled. Some of the snow inside was beginning to swirl, and the little cottage suddenly looked as if it had a candle flickering in the window.
He rushed ahead down the path, Max hot on his heels, while Tin and I jogged to catch up.
The park’s main lawn came into view once we rounded the bend. On a stage at the bottom of a hill, an orchestra and a woman in a stunning red gown were halfway through “Silent Night.” People huddled together on picnic blankets and folding chairs, steaming cups clutched in mittened hands as they sang along. Some of them waved candles while children in Santa hats ran and played among the crowd.
We moved to the edge of the audience, and the guys all sat down on the cold ground. Tin pulled me down into the spot between him and Max.
I made sure my coat was under my butt and tightened my plain red scarf. “So, what do we do now?”
“We enjoy the music and give the power core time to soak it in,” Max answered, his eyes on the stage.
After the frantic, worried way they’d been carrying on earlier, I was surprised by how calm they all were. They just sat there, mouthing the words to every single song. One by one, they pulled their fur-lined hoods up to ward off the cold. Now that we were no longer on the move, my fingers and toes were getting chilly. I pulled the sleeves of my coat down over my knuckles, kicking myself for leaving my gloves in the car.
Tin scooted over until he was pressed up against my side and took my hands in his, giving them a rub.
“Why are your hands so warm?” I sig
hed.
He smiled and shrugged. “I think it’s a Christmas-magic thing. We’re kept protected and safe from pretty much everything during the drop time.”
Before I could ask more, Max scooted over on my other side, boxing me in against Tin.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“It’s freezing. Just because you guys can’t feel it doesn’t mean I can’t.”
He frowned. “We can’t have you getting sick.” He looked around, as if to check if anyone was watching, then leaned into me, hunching his shoulders around his hands.
Glittering red shimmer appeared over his palm, materializing out of nothing, and I gasped. It swirled around for a moment and then faded, leaving behind a large mug with a cartoon Santa on it. He held it out to me. “You like mint in your hot chocolate, right?”
“How did you . . .” I took the hot drink from him, dazed.
Tin draped an arm over my shoulders as I sipped on the best hot chocolate I’d ever tasted. As a choir filed onto the stage, the drink warmed me from the inside out, almost as comforting as Tin’s arm around me.
“Don’t tell him I said so, but this is even better than my dad’s hot chocolate.” I took another sip but paused when I felt Max stiffen against my side.
“We’re keeping you from your family,” he said as they all gave me serious looks. “Maybe we can do this without her, guys.”
They made to get up, but I waved them down. “Relax. It’s my shitty car keeping me from my family. It had broken down before you guys crashed. I’ve already messaged my mom and told her I’m not gonna make it. I have a million passive-aggressive texts to prove it.”
They settled back down but watched me suspiciously.
El leaned around Max. “So you were on your way to your parents’? That’s what all the presents were for?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I worked so much overtime this past month so my boss would let me out at five. I still wasn’t going to make it to my parents’ place before dinner, but I would’ve been there for dessert, and I could’ve spent time with my family, woken up with them on Christmas morning. This is the third year I’ll be missing out. It sucks, because I really love Christmas.” I pouted.
“Third year?” Tin asked.
“Yeah. I had to work until midnight the past two years. No way was I going to drive for two hours after such a long shift on icy roads. It’s made for lonely holidays the past few years. But at least I had my friend Monica to spend it with.” Monica elected to avoid her family at Christmas, declaring they were all a bunch of assholes.
“Why do you live so far away from your family?”
“Can’t you just take the whole day off?”
“Why can’t you get there by public transport or something? You can still make it.”
They all fired questions at me. They were being kind of intense about it, but I guessed it came with the territory.
“Whoa.” I laughed and took another sip of my delicious drink. “They live way past the end of the train line, and the last bus left hours ago. There’s no one else to drive me, so I’m stuck. My home town is great, really cozy and friendly, but I moved to the city for work. And there is no such thing as days off during December when you work in retail. I was lucky to get even the evening off.”
“Do you see your family often?” El asked.
“As much as I can. But living in the city is not cheap, and the minimum two-hour drive is a pain.”
“Do you like your job?” Max asked.
“What’s with the inquisition?” I chuckled but answered anyway. “I don’t love it. But I have to work, and it’s as close as I can get to what I actually want to be doing, so . . .”
“What do you want to be doing?” Tin asked.
“Um . . .” I finished the last of the hot chocolate to buy myself time. Why is it so hard to talk about what we truly want out of life? As if voicing it will make it real, put it out in the universe, and then if you fail, everyone will know. “I want to be a designer.”
“Like an architect?” El cocked his head, the gold fur obscuring his eyes.
I shook my head and just said it. “Fashion. Undergarments specifically. I want to design lingerie.”
Everyone was silent for a beat as the music reached a crescendo.
Then Tin smirked. “I bet your boyfriend loves that.”
I leaned in, keeping my voice low and teasing like his. “I’m single.”
“Excellent!” He kept staring at me as I breathed in his mint-and-woodsmoke scent and sighed.
“What?” Max leaned in, interrupting the moment. “We can’t hear you.”
“Sadie was just saying she doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Tin supplied helpfully.
“Oh, great! I mean cool. I mean, yeah, OK, uh . . .” If he hadn’t been literally pressed up against my side, I wouldn’t have noticed the slight flush creeping up Max’s dark cheeks.
El just laughed softly, looking between the three of us. When my eyes met his, he very purposefully glanced down my body. My puffy coat ensured he couldn’t see much of anything, but the deliberate look made it clear he was wondering what was under there.
If the hot chocolate and the man sandwich weren’t enough to warm me up, the interest from three gorgeous men did the job, and I suddenly felt a bit hot.
Were they even allowed to date humans? Or did they have to stick to elves to keep the secret? Was interspecies romance allowed in the North Pole? What even were they? They clearly weren’t the cute, short version of elves I’d had in my mind all my life.
I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d be sitting in a park on Christmas Eve wondering about my sexual attraction to a damn Santa’s elf! But there I was, with three of the tallest, strongest, most caring, sexy elves I could’ve ever imagined.
If it wasn’t for the cold ground making my ass go numb, I would’ve assumed I’d had too much eggnog at my parents’ and had already passed out on the couch.
The Elves
Since they’d thrown question after question at me, I figured it was only fair to throw some right back at them. Plus, I needed to get off the topic of my single status. I’d broken up with my ex Brian six months ago. I was pretty much over him, but his accounting firm was a block away from where I worked, and I kept bumping into him, making it all come up again. I really wasn’t in the mood to rehash that mess.
“So, how does this all work exactly?”
Max frowned. “How does what work?”
I waved around at the three of them. “This Christmas-magic, delivering-presents, Santa-is-real situation. I mean, I gotta be honest, when I thought about elves, I did not picture . . . this.”
“And what exactly is this?” There was a teasing glint in Tin’s eyes.
I gave him a disparaging look. “You all know you’re hot. Stop deflecting and tell me about Santa.”
They laughed, but Max took pity on me. “Santa used to do it all himself. But that was millennia ago. The world’s population was nowhere near what it is now. The traditions were different. As the population grew, so did his team. He makes an appearance on every continent and delivers as many presents as he can himself, but we do the rest.”
“The three of you? Do we have time to be watching a Christmas concert?”
“Nah, we’re just one team.” He waved me down. “There are thousands of elves now. We each get assigned a region every year—a certain portion of the population.”
“Are all elves dudes? Seems a bit sexist.”
“Nope,” El piped in. “Fifty-fifty, and we have pay transparency—no gender pay gap in the North Pole. That’s really important to Mr. and Mrs. Claus.”
“Right. Of course. How silly of me to assume.” I couldn’t help laughing. Half the things they were saying were making me giggle, either because they were so unexpected or just because these guys were funny. Witty even.
“OK, but even with dividing the world into sections, how do you get it all done? That’s still millions of presents.”
&
nbsp; “Magic,” Max whispered and pointed to my now empty mug.
I resisted smacking myself on the forehead. I kept expecting clear, logical answers to all my questions, but I was sitting at a Christmas concert with three actual elves from the North Pole. Of course there would be some magic involved.
“Some things don’t need to be questioned. Some things just are. Not everything has to be controlled and understood. We’re not meant to know it all, and that’s OK.” Tin squeezed my shoulder.
“I get that. I can’t promise I’ll stop asking questions though. This is pretty crazy for me.”
“Long as you understand we won’t always have answers.”
I nodded.
“I like your coat.” A tiny, sweet voice drew our attention to a little girl standing in front of Elvis. She was around five years old and bundled in swathes of red-and-white fabric.
“Uh . . . thanks.” El fiddled with the golden fur on one of his sleeves. I stifled a laugh.
“Can I touch it?” the child asked, clasping her mittened hands in front of herself.
“Um . . .” He looked over at us, like a deer in headlights. “I guess?”
She squealed and ripped her mitten off, bounding forward on little legs to grab a handful of the golden fur.
“It’s so soft.” She giggled.
“Look, this one’s red, like your coat.” I held Max’s arm out for the little cutie, and she shuffled over to stroke his coat too. I couldn’t blame her. Their coats were ridiculously soft and looked impressive.
“Maggie!” Two little boys—clearly her brothers—came running up. “Stop running off!” the older one chided her, but the younger boy just joined his little sister in petting Max’s fur trim.
“Are you guys from the North Pole?” He wiped his runny nose on the back of his sleeve.
“We sure are!” Tin grinned as more kids wandered over to gawk at the overgrown Christmas elves.
“Should he be telling them that?” I whispered to Max.
He shrugged. “They’re just kids, and it’s Christmas Eve. What’s the harm?”
It Started With a Sleigh Page 2