Gabe stepped in front of her on the way out and scanned the parking lot. His intense desire to keep her safe was intimidating. There was no doubt he’d tackle her to the pavement and throw his body on top of hers to keep her from being hurt. Goose bumps broke out on her arms. Not from the cold—Kringles didn’t feel cold temps—but from the sense of danger lurking all around. The sun had gone down and the parking lot lights were dim. Shadows lingered everywhere. She shivered.
Gabe glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “You should have worn a coat. It’s in the thirties.”
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. The light blouse wouldn’t offer much protection. Thankfully, he thought she was cold and not afraid. “I guess I forgot it.” She owned a coat. It was hanging in her closet in the ice castle.
Just then, the sleigh flew off the roof and right over their heads, startling Robyn. She jumped and cried out, grabbing on to Gabe’s leather jacket and leaning against him. Stinking Stella! She could make even Starling fly like a firstling. She did her best not to tip her head up and watch the streak of white and sliver against the black sky.
“Shh.” Gabe held up a hand.
“What?” Robyn stepped even closer, the smell of leather and soap filling her senses. His arm was thick with muscles and warm to the touch—even through his coat. Funny, she’d never felt a temperature difference between her and another person before, but Gabe was definitely a warm body.
He shook his head. “I thought I heard … bells.”
“Sleigh bells,” she corrected before realizing what she’d said. She dropped his arm. He jolted as if the cold had smacked him. It probably had, because when she touched him, her magic protected him from the cold too.
“Let’s go.” He hurried to a small red pickup truck with rust over the back fender and a dent in the grill. He unlocked and opened the passenger’s side door for her.
She grinned. “Thanks. A gentleman is always appreciated.”
He chuckled. “That’s the first time someone’s called me that, Sketch.”
She tingled all over and grinned like a goof. Not at all sketch, but she didn’t care.
He shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side where he settled behind the wheel. “Let’s get the heater going to get you warm.”
“Thanks.” She smiled softly. The sentiment was kind, and she was beginning to see a softer side to Gabe. He noticed things about her that no one else seemed to pay attention to. Of course, that could be his training as a security guard and wasn’t an indication that he noticed her specifically.
His phone buzzed madly, and he scrambled to get it out from the inside pocket of his coat. Several taps and a swipe later, and his face pinched.
“What is it?” Robyn asked, instantly knowing he sought understanding from her.
“Do you mind if we make a stop?” His jaw set and his eyes flashed. Whatever came through on the phone left him disappointed and frustrated, though not with her.
“Of course. Whatever you need to do. I feel bad taking your evening.”
“They’re compensating my time, so don’t worry about it.” They rode in silence for a few minutes. He rested his elbow on the door and checked his mirrors several times before clearing his throat. “It’s my brother.”
“You have a brother?”
He signaled and turned left, taking them closer to a blinking dot on his phone. “He’s struggling. Sometimes he takes off. I need to pick him up.”
Sadness. Grief. A sense of loss and incapability filled the truck like the stench of rotten cheese.
Before she could respond, he threw the car in park and hopped out. She knew she should turn away, to give them a moment of family privacy, but there was so much longing coming from the two of them that she was fascinated.
“Where are you going?” Gabe demanded, his voice harsh through the windshield.
Robyn bit her knuckle to keep from crying out at him to stop. They boy was crying inside—crying for understanding and a sense of safety. Yelling at him wasn’t going to soothe his wounds.
The teen lifted a shoulder. He couldn’t have been older than fifteen, and yet he was already as tall as Gabe. They had the same build, though Gabe had filled out in his chest and shoulders whereas his brother was still skinny, almost scrawny. She itched to make him a home-cooked meal. Roast beef and potatoes to start with fresh rolls loaded with homemade Christmas jam. Comfort food at its best. The kind families gathered around the table for on Sunday after church with brown gravy and sparkling cider.
“You have to stop this—it’s juvenile. When are you going to grow up?”
The kid turned his head, catching sight of Robyn in the cab of the truck. His wounded heart was made bare, the aching to be accepted too strong for Santa sense to ignore.
“Stop!” she yelled, scrambling out of the car.
Gabe and his brother both faced her, twin looks of trepidation on their handsome faces. They were so much alike—needed the same things—but were unable to give them to one another because of fear. What had they been through that made them so afraid to love? To be loved?
She placed a hand on the boy’s arm to steady herself—her need to comfort was overwhelming. She’d never been this close to a family crisis before. It was unsettling and destructive. “You aren’t running away because you’re ungrateful or angry,” she said, feeling like she was having an out-of-body experience.
He clamped his lips shut. She’d moved closer to his pain and he retreated, hoping she wouldn’t expose it to the world. Gabe stood motionless and quiet to the side. She silently pleaded with him to keep a clamp on his anger—to hold back his needs long enough for his brother to be reassured and the storm inside calmed.
“Hey,” she spoke softly. “You’re a restless soul. You’re searching for something, but you don’t know what it is.”
He kept his mouth closed, but his arm relaxed under her touch. He was crying out for understanding, inching closer to trusting her despite his defenses telling him to back away. He just wanted someone to see him. She threw her arms around his body, pinning his arms to his side, and let her heart open to allow Christmas hope and love and joy to flow from her to him.
He stood stiffly, holding his breath, until the Magic began to seep into his being.
“Just so you know,” she began, her cheek smashed by his zipper, “this is the most awkward hug I’ve ever given.”
Finally, his shoulders slumped, and she could feel his smile come from his heart. A small chuckle bounced around inside of him.
Gabe’s emotional levels evened out. Interesting. It seemed his crisis was directly related to what was happening with his brother. There were still lingering doubts, a need for validation that would have to be addressed at some point. But for now, his issues were under control.
“You smell like ice cream,” the kid offered.
She laughed. Every Kringle sister had a distinctive scent. For Ginger, it was Christmas cookies—or gingersnaps. Hence her name. Mom had recognized the scent the moment she was born. For Lux, it was peppermint chocolate. Robyn’s was vanilla bean, which could easily be mistaken for ice cream. “You smell good too.” She released him and stepped back to find him blushing furiously.
“You’re right. That was really awkward.” His shy smile asked if it was okay that he’d teased her.
She pushed his arm, wishing she’d gotten Ginger’s ability to know names. “I’ll bet the girls are all over you, you big charmer.”
He lifted a shoulder. Some of his confidence slipped, and she wondered how he was doing in school.
“Come on, let’s get you two out of the cold and I can introduce you properly.” Gabe lifted his arms, ushering them like a flock of geese toward the open truck door.
“It’s not cold,” said his brother. She realized she’d left her hand on his shoulder, offering him her protection from the cold.
“It’s below freezing,” she said, taking her hand away.
He shivered, maki
ng her feel bad for letting him feel the chill.
Gabe made introductions as they piled in, Nick taking the small seat behind Robyn. She offered him the front—he had long legs—but he insisted she get the seat by the heat vent. “Being a gentleman must run in the family.” She smiled over her shoulder.
Nick grinned. “No one’s ever called me that before.”
Robyn sent a pointed look at Gabe. He’d said the same thing. Maybe these two weren’t as far apart as they believed.
Gabe smirked in return.
Her phone beeped, and she checked the text from Stella. “Here’s the address to the hotel.”
Gabe put it in his phone. It wasn’t far away, and she was disappointed that their ride was just a few minutes. He pulled into the drop-off zone at the front doors. “You be sure to lock yourself in your room tonight.”
His concern was real, and it touched her heart. But she couldn’t agree to staying in her room. She had a world’s worth of stockings to provide goodies for—the chocolate coins alone would take twelve hours. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” she hedged.
“I’d feel better knowing you will.” His navy-blue eyes bore into her.
She internally cringed, searching for a phrase that was truthful but noncommittal. “I’ll be safe. I promise.”
Nick grabbed the back of her chair and stuck his face between them. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain it later.” Gabe excused her from having to give a story.
She climbed out of the truck, feeling like she was making a huge mistake. There was so much more going on with these two than just an argument. Their needs were so big, it could take years to sort them out. She rubbed her palms together, ready to offer to cook them a homemade dinner.
The hotel doors whooshed open behind her. “Robyn!” called Stella. “There’s an issue with one of the machines—I need to go.”
Gabe waved at her sister. “I’ll watch you walk in.”
She smiled, wishing she had more time, could give them more. But Stella was over toy production—arguably the biggest job at the North Pole. It would be selfish of Robyn to keep her here when there were children’s Christmas wishes on the line. “Bye.”
“Bye,” the guys said in unison.
She chuckled. They were like twins born years apart. She tore herself away and shut the door.
Stella met her and hooked their arms together. “There’s an issue in the stuffing room and I need to get home, pronto.”
“Let’s do it. I have a night of baking ahead and need to check on the Alaska plant. If we can set up a facility in Oregon, I might be able to dip chocolate.” Even as she said the words, her mind was back on Gabe and Nick. They needed her. And a part of her just might need them too, but she didn’t have time to give them.
Chapter 7
Gabe
Laster that night, Gabe sat in the front room with the lights off. A plate of uneaten pizza slices lay on the coffee table, where he’d propped up his feet. He wasn’t hungry. Nick had run away again. Two times in as many nights. Robyn had said he was searching for something, that he was a wandering soul. Well, if that was the case, he was going to push Gabe into an early grave.
The glow of the television flickered in the darkness. He and Nick hadn’t talked on the ride home. They both wanted to hang on to the peace Robyn had brought into their lives—even if it was for a few minutes.
Gabe was jealous of the hug she’d given Nick; at the same time, he was hugely grateful to her for giving it to him. Neither of them had a good female influence in their lives—maybe that was what was missing in all this. He was self-aware enough to admit that he wasn’t the softest of caretakers.
Nick ambled in and flopped onto the other end of the couch. He propped his feet up. “What are we watching?”
“Thirty-Minute Match.” Gabe stared at the opening credits, wondering if Robyn was as wonderful as he remembered or if he’d built her up in his mind in the two hours since he’d dropped her off. The woman would not get out of his head. And Nick was right: she smelled so good. His truck carried the scent of vanilla even now.
Robyn appeared on-screen, and Nick sat up. Great. His little brother had a crush on the same woman he did. Gabe groaned.
They watched the episode in silence. The producer had cut in footage of Kylo stomping through reception, screaming threats. There were beeps every five words or so.
“You should ask her out,” Nick said when the show was over. A message appeared on-screen, promising that they would try again for Robyn the next night and inviting viewers to tune in.
“She’s part of the job.” Gabe wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince—himself or his brother.
“She’s pretty.”
Gabe turned to him, questions running through his mind about how big this crush was.
Nick scoffed. “I meant she’s pretty for someone your age, all right? Invite her over for dinner.”
Okay, so not a crush. Whew! It was Gabe’s turn to scoff. “And serve what? Cold pizza?” Gabe’s lack of kitchen skills used to be a running joke between them. Lately, it felt more like a thorn in their relationship.
“You’re always so ornery. Order takeout. She won’t care. She’s nice.” He scratched his chin. “And I caught her looking at you a couple times.”
“Sure she was.” He wasn’t falling for that. Nick could save his peer pressure for his high school friends.
“Whatever.” Nick was off the couch and halfway down the hall in a blink.
Gabe wished he could call him back and have a real talk with him.
He also wished he could invite Robyn over for dinner. They could sit around the small, round table no one ever used and act like a family. He fell asleep on the couch with the thought running through his head like a playlist on repeat.
Chapter 8
Robyn
Robyn hurried down the Hall of Santas Past that connected the family living area to Santa’s workshop. The jolly green carpet with the holly design woven in gold was wet around the edges, and several spots squished when she stepped on them. Nicolas the Seventh’s eyes, painted coal black, followed her as she walked past his gold framed portrait. For a Santa, he was grumpy. His dark brow was lowered and the lines in his face were severe. Or maybe he was silently condemning her for ruining his legacy.
At the end of the hall, she shoved the door open and made her escape into the mail room.
Hundreds of wooden filing cabinets lined the walls and created aisles through the cavernous room. Here and there, pointy elf hats with bells bobbed as Frost’s helpers worked to sort out this year’s requests. With only twenty-one days until Christmas, the mail sleighs overflowed with letters to Santa.
Frost’s beautiful secretary desk was covered in unopened mail, but her sister was nowhere to be found.
“Frost?” she called, standing on her tiptoes.
“Under here,” Frost answered from one of the work benches. The bench was covered in piles of letters. Frost had climbed underneath and set up a nest, her favorite letter opener in one hand and a pile of letters to the left. In front of her were sorted letters, waiting for elves to pick them up and enter the info into the computer for Ginger to check against the Naughty and Nice List—twice.
“Where’s Tannon?” Robyn carefully stepped around the piles and squatted in front of the opening. Frost’s husband of almost a year was in charge of making sure she didn’t exhaust herself in the pre-Christmas rush.
“He went for food.”
Robyn cringed. “Sorry.” Normally, she’d be the one making sure the family had a nutritious meal. Instead, she was stuck down south in a television studio, looking for a chocolate chip of a man in a bag of flour.
“Don’t feel bad,” Frost said, her eyes scanning a page. “We understand. Remember the mail shortage situation last year?”
“I remember.” While Frost was in Elderberry, falling in love with her lifelong pen pal, Tannon, and saving Christmas, the mail room had f
allen into chaos and mail delivery had slowed to a trickle.
Frost lifted her crystal-blue eyes. “We get it.”
Robyn smiled. She used to consider her youngest sister an easy read. But since finding out she was the only Kringle who could tell a lie and not set off Robyn’s lie-meter, she just had to trust what Frost gave her. “Thanks.” She held out her hand, and Frost took it, pulling herself out from under the table.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Frost brushed off her palms. She absently reached for a sealed envelope and opened it.
Robyn needed to talk fast, before Frost was lost in crayon words and construction paper. Could children get any cuter? Their spelling was the sweetest. Deer Santa melted Robyn every time. It was a good thing she wasn’t in charge of mail—her sentimentality would slow the process. “Nick Fowler’s letters, please.”
That caught her sister’s attention. She tucked the unopened letter into her cargo pants side pocket and started off down an aisle, her white hair flowing behind her. She navigated several tin buckets half full of water. There were large icicles dripping from the ceiling. Robyn shuddered to think what would happen if one of them broke lose.
“Who is this kid?” Frost asked over her shoulder. She moved like a fairy with long strides, using her tiptoes.
“He’s the brother to the security guard at the studio. I saw the two of them earlier tonight. It was … hard to watch.”
“Why?” She turned a tight corner.
Robyn hurried to keep pace; she could get lost in here. “They were both reaching out, demanding love, neither realizing they had the power to heal each other. I was in physical pain just watching. I can’t imagine how they live like that every day.”
“You’re more sensitive than most. He’d be in here.” Frost yanked on a drawer but couldn’t get it open. “The moisture is making the drawers stick.” She stuck her tongue between her teeth and put her foot on the drawer for leverage.
Tannon appeared, carrying a picnic basket. “Hey, love.” He kissed Frost’s hair, his eyes closing with the pleasure of being close to the woman he loved. “Hi, Robyn. How goes the manhunt?”
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