Tinsel: A Shifter of Consequence Holiday Tale (Shifters of Consequence Book 8)

by Mazzy J March

“Why did it leave you icky?” she asked around chewing.

  Icky, was a good way to put it. “They apparently didn’t have much of a Christmas when they were kids. The alpha, their father, didn’t approve of it. He did the minimal things for the pack, but the boys really didn’t experience Christmas cheer in any form.”

  Her eyes widened. “That means Brandon didn’t either. No wonder that boy is so excited about all of this. He just beams every time I light up some lights. When I put the garland on the fireplace, he bounced on his heels like a little boy. He didn’t tell me…”

  “Yeah, well, this is why I have to make them have some new memories. I’m determined to give them the Christmas they never had.”

  Wendi’s face suddenly went red. “I accidentally discovered one of my presents from Moss,” she confessed.

  “What is it?” I pried, leaning closer. It had to be something good with that blush of hers.

  “Well, we got a call from a boudoir photography place, and I picked up the phone at the same time he did, and I went to hang up, but before I did, I heard the woman say something about confirming a gift appointment.”

  “Wait, you think he’s going to give you bedroom pictures of himself for Christmas?” I acted shocked but then again, it might not be such a bad idea for my men.

  “No, I think it’s for me for after the baby. I said something the other day to him about not really feeling sexy anymore, and he argued with me. Either that or it’s for both of us.”

  I sighed. My men would probably get me soap or socks for Christmas. I had to keep in mind the thought counted, especially with my Christmas spirit-less mates.

  “That’s a good one.”

  She shrugged. “Look at these.”

  She held up a stack of what looked like boxers, four pairs of them. When she held them up, each one had a snowman’s face on the front but where the carrot should be, their, um…well, they would fill in the pocket with something of their own.

  “What the hell? Samson and Tris would die, right there on the spot. Maybe not Tris, but definitely Samson. Do you think they will actually wear them?”

  She looked at me, her blush in full force, and waggled her eyebrows. “A girl can hope.”

  We went on like that for the rest of the afternoon, going on a tirade about inappropriate gifts and how, between mates, they were not so inappropriate at all.

  It gave me all sorts of ideas.

  Of course, I would have to online shop for anything erotic. Our little town would sink into the ground if an adult store opened up. It was too quaint for that. At least, to my perception.

  That conversation led us into a stream of Christmas sexy puns which were more cheesy than funny. I said something about decking my mates’ balls instead of halls and it sent Wendi into a torrent of laughter leading to a real flood. She stopped laughing, and her eyes widened.

  “Shit!” she said, then covered her mouth.

  “What?” I assumed it was something about the baby.

  “I think…no, I know I just peed myself!” She got up and rushed from the apartment, still laughing. “Don’t move. I’m going to change and clean up. Don’t you dare move. Damn it, I need a diaper!”

  Chapter Seven

  “You cheated. I am not supposed to get this until Christmas, Christie!” Gigi acted all offended and shocked but when I thrust the shiny royal-blue wrapped present toward her, she took it with a smile.

  “I know, but you can use this today. Trust me. If you want, you can consider it a regular gift. That way we’re not breaking the rules.”

  Gigi wasn’t strict about very many things, but keeping Christmas was one of the things she was solid on.

  “Okay, but this is the only one.” She tore the paper off and giggled as she did a little dance, ripping open the box. She pulled the fabric out with gasp. In seconds, her apron was off and the new one was on. I’d had it embroidered to say, This chef is the shit.

  Because Gigi was the shit, in her own words.

  “This is the best gift ever!” My grandmother wrapped me up in a tight embrace, threatening to squeeze my organs.

  “Now, we are ready to bake cookies!”

  For a week, Gigi and I had planned every cookie we would make. We had a written list and had gotten everything from the market we needed. There were going to be so many cookies, Samson and Tris would be cookie-comatosed into loving Christmas.

  If not, I was going to tie them to the tree until the pine sap seeped into their brains and convinced them.

  After we took out the third batch of snickerdoodles and Gigi had made up a batch of pillow cookies to go in, I set them on the counter. A knock at the door made me jump. Clearly, the season had me consuming too much caffeine and sugar.

  “Yeah?” I answered, flinging the door open.

  “We need your help.” Brandon, Escher, Moss, and Cash came in, pushing past me without me saying a word. Worry and stress marred each of their faces with furrowed brows and drawn down mouths.

  Something was up.

  “Is Wendi okay?” She was the first thing on my mind when I saw them all in a huff.

  “Of course. She’s taking a nap.”

  They were huddled in my living room while Gigi hummed “Jingle Bells” and taste-tested the snickerdoodles.

  “What can I help you with?” I made my way back into the kitchen and pulled out the recipe for my next batch, frosted gingerbread people cookies. I found the molasses and shot Brandon a look. They needed to tell me what was going on.

  “We have no idea what to get Wendi.”

  Oh, boy. No wonder they were upset. We were inching in on Christmas, and these boys were still shopping. Or not shopping as the case may be.

  “What do you mean? You guys always know what to get her. I mean, her house is case in point.”

  Escher blew out a breath at the same time Moss did. Cash had tucked into a cookie. Brandon took the lead again. “Not this time. We don’t want to buy her clothes because she’s always complaining she’s a whale. We can’t get her post baby things because it seems like we want her back to her pre-pregnancy body, which we collectively don’t give a shit about. She’s not the jewelry kind of girl.”

  Escher shrugged. “I said books, but they said no.”

  Moss took a seat on one of the barstools. “She has enough of those.”

  “She seems to be going through a lot of emotions lately. How about a journal and some candles for the bath. Some bubble bath, bath bombs, things like that? A comfy blanket? Some cute, fluffy slippers?”

  Cash and Brandon looked at each other like I’d just shot them between the eyes. Cash cleared his throat. “Why didn’t we think of that? Those ideas are perfect. She’s always fretting around, worrying and stressing over things. We need to give her things to let her relax.”

  While I stirred in the other ingredients and measured the cinnamon and nutmeg, I listened to them discuss. Moss nabbed Gigi’s notebook, and in minutes, they had a plan of attack. Project Wendi Relax was well underway.

  “Now you have to help us. Retrieve those cookies from the oven,” Gigi commanded, and Wendi’s boys jumped to attention. Before long, we were all covered with flour, and even Escher was humming “Jingle Bell Rock” under his breath. I stepped back and watched as something sank inside my chest.

  Why couldn’t my men be like this? Yes, they’d never had real Christmas, but even Brandon was well into the spirit.

  I sighed. Samson and Tris would be oozing Christmas one way or the other.

  Chapter Eight

  I thought we’d reached an understanding, or rather thought the nice people at Visa had mentioned the dollar amounts spent when they contacted Samson for approval, but by the time he and Tris received the summons for the emergency high council meeting, I’d started to suspect they actually did not know. They’d joked about a Christmas tree and some lights and stuff… Did they really think all I’d bought was in the pile of bags we’d unloaded in the garage?

  Each day, I was watch
ing for the text to tell me the delivery would arrive. Originally, the store had promised it would only be a day or two, but updates announced their suppliers were backlogged with orders for some of the things I’d requested—and paid for—and it would be another day or two…or three. At some point, a truck was going to pull up outside and the driver would unload enough holiday splendor to make my budget-busting shopping expedition no secret whatsoever. Worried one of my mates would tell the truck driver to turn around and take everything back, completely ruining my plans, I was not nearly as upset as I normally might have been when Samson got the call from the council.

  We were sitting around in his office, discussing some matters of storage for pack-owned items, also making sure they were fairly shared by everyone—for example the popular ATVs that a few people not only tended to use every weekend to the detriment of others but never actually returned to the garage area at all. It was kind of nice to be discussing something so ordinary instead of kidnappings and assassins. But the very banality of it had my eyelids drooping and a big yawn stretching my jaw.

  Samson answered the phone and listened, nodding. His expression grew serious, whereas before he’d been a little snarky about the “toys” and put forth the idea that we should maybe take them away from everyone and lock them up until they all learned to play nicely and share, something they should have all learned in their dens. But whatever the caller was saying stripped the mood away.

  “Just give us a few minutes to throw some clothes in a suitcase and we’ll be on our way.” He listened again. “No, really, the sooner the better. We have a lot going on around here, and I don’t want to be gone for long.” He disconnected and let out a sigh that came all the way from his toes. “It’s never a good time to be away, I guess. I’ll miss you, mate.”

  “Do they want us both? I heard you say ‘we.’” Tris leaned a hip on the window sill in a sexy pose I never grew tired of.

  “Both, yes.” Samson’s glower couldn’t make him any less appealing, although I loved to make him smile. And with them leaving, I didn’t feel especially cheerful either.

  Although, if they were away when everything came… I could deck the halls to my heart’s content. How upset could they be when they saw how beautiful it was? What the holiday spirit could bring to our pack? I began laying out strands of light and miles of garland in my mind.

  “Mate? Are you listening?” Samson spoke, but both of them were staring at me. “What do you think?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I was just kind of sad about your going.” And I was. But also pleased to be able to surprise them.

  “There’s no reason you can’t come with us, then. We can make it a little trip, just the three of us.”

  I scrambled for excuses. “Oh, no. Not if it’s an emergency meeting. I’d just be underfoot. Maybe we can take a weekend away after the holidays, go somewhere romantic?”

  Tris grinned. “We can do that, too. Now, how fast can you be ready?”

  More excuses…something they wouldn’t be able to naysay. School wouldn’t cut it because classes were about to dismiss for the winter vacation. And I wouldn’t be working then either. I’d already turned in my notice when I recognized first lady was a job description all its own. What did that leave? My phone buzzed and I lifted my phone from the desk to see a text from Wendi.

  Ah-ha!

  “It really sounds nice, I mean just to be with you both, but I can’t leave Wendi so close to her due date. I’m her coach, you know.” I hated to see their eagerness fade, but in the end, it would be worth it. Hopefully. Plus, I was Wendi’s coach.

  “Well, that’s a bummer.” Tris stood up straight and rolled his shoulders. “But Wendi’s health and state of mind are important. Let’s get ready to go, Samson. Sooner we leave, sooner we get back.” He brushed a kiss over my cheek as he left the room.

  Samson looked at me with an I know you’re up to something stare that more often than not had me confessing any sins I could think of. But not today. After a moment, he shook his head. “Whatever it is, is it dangerous?”

  I bit my lip. “There’s nothing, but if there were, no. Just girl time with Wendi while she waits for the baby.”

  “Mmhmm.” He wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t have time to really pin me down, and we both knew it. “Be careful.”

  “Hey,” I said, and he stopped. “You said it’s an emergency meeting? Anything dangerous?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Not at all. They are trying to decide on where to hold next year’s getaway. It’s always a huge argument.”

  “Oh.” Okay, any remaining guilt I felt shifted into excitement. “All right, then. Any idea what the options are?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t even care. I’m already planning on how to get out of going to the getaway. Think you’ll need a birth coach by then?”

  “Ha-ha.” I kissed him. “Come on. I’ll help you pack.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Wendi, they’re gone.” I blew one more kiss at their retreating truck and closed the door then leaned against it, speaking into my phone. “Come over!”

  I didn’t really expect my friend to do much physically, but since I planned to use nearly the entire pack for my project, I could use her as a supervisor. I’d gotten a text seconds after we zipped Samson’s bag closed, and I’d slipped into the bathroom to read it. The delivery was coming today! And it wasn’t far off.

  Kicking into gear, I rushed my mates out the door because I didn’t want them to see the decorations until they were installed as part of the Christmas bonanza I had planned. Wendi and I had drawn all sorts of diagrams, but it was going to take both of us to supervise everyone. With my friend on her way, I peeked out the window in the door to see a huge white box truck, covered with pictures of Santa, trundling down the driveway. They had to have passed Samson and Tris, right?

  My phone buzzed. Looks like someone’s getting a delivery, or else these guys are lost. Have one of the betas meet them, Christie. Had they really not even asked? I grabbed on to the lost thing.

  Amazing the people who wind up down our road. Safe travels!

  I raced outside to greet the delivery drivers with their load of holiday sparkle. I was signing off on a lading form when Wendi strolled—she’d made me stop saying waddled—up to my side. She’d been with me when the order was placed, but that didn’t stop her jaw from dropping as the mountain of boxes and other packaging grew.

  “Christie, what did we do?” Her voice was hushed as in only the very worst situations. “And how much did you spend?”

  “What do you mean me? You were right next to me, pointing to things and encouraging me to double up. ‘I think you need at least five dozen of the giant clear crystal ornaments, Christie. Get more garland, Christie. Can’t they order another five million lights from Asia or Europe or somewhere?’”

  She smacked me on the arm. “I never said five million anything. I may have been egging you on a little?”

  “A little?”

  “Okay a lot, but I still say the pack needs this. We’ve had a really rough year, and think how much the children will love it. I’ve been doing some research, speaking to elders, and reading some of those really old records and traditionally the alpha house was always the setting for amazing winter holiday parties. Guess when that stopped?”

  “Samson, Tris, and Brandon’s dad’s tenure?”

  “Uh-huh.” She set her jaw, looking as fierce as a woman who seemed to be trying to shoplift a watermelon under a snowflake-printed hoodie ever could. “Sometimes, I wish he was alive so I could slap him dead.”

  “Wendi!” I tried to hide my smile, or maybe grimace because I wanted to slap him dead, too, but my hugely pregnant friend presented a whole other side of fierce. “Not very respectful of the late alpha.”

  “Does he deserve respect?” Dang, she’d be spitting on his grave next. Come to think of it, that sounded like an appropriate tribute. “Does he?”

  “Well, for all his sins, and they
were many, he accidentally raised three of the best males around.”

  “Through no fault of his own. The way he tried to get your mates to…what?”

  I was waving a hand around because our mountain range of boxes had managed to attract a couple dozen pack members who huddled together whispering in small groups. “Shh. I don’t know how much the others are aware of what went on, and Samson and Tris for sure won’t want to be questioned about it.”

  “I’m sorry!” Her cheeks flamed. “Do you think they heard everything I said?”

  “No…pretty sure they are focused on the decorations. Oh, Wendi, it didn’t seem like this many when we ordered them. Samson and Tris will have my neck.”

  “Pshaw!”

  I gaped at her. “Did you say ‘pshaw’? What are you, two hundred years old?”

  She shrugged. “It seemed appropriate. Your alphas will not under any circumstances kill you. They adore you. And this pack is not poor. If you consider it, they haven’t spent a dime on the holidays in decades. You’re just catching up.”

  Such an optimist. “Anyway, the good thing is with so many already here, we can get started on the decorations right away.” I eyed the gossiping throngs. “Do you think they will do it if I ask?”

  “Ask? You’re the first lady. Tell!” Wendi grasped the railing and hoisted…I mean, gracefully ascended to the porch where everyone could see her. “Attention all! I would like to announce the very first decorating party in this century for our pack. Everyone line up and get your assignments.” She beckoned me up beside her

  They drifted over and soon stood in a semi-circle, heads tilted back. Holy hells, this might work. I mean, I’d planned to try to get them all to help, but it never occurred to me they’d consider it their obligation. And I actually didn’t want that to be the case. “Samson and Tris are away on pack business for a few days. I thought we could provide them with a wonderful surprise on their return and decorate the clearing and the alpha house for the pack’s holiday celebrations.”