“Come on, you two,” said Avery, coming out to the patio. “Break time’s over. We’ve got to get ready for the lunch rush.”
Carol dropped the subject. Barbara had to be wrong about Ethan. Who was the reindeer shifter, and why had he come to her rescue? Carol didn’t believe in Christmas magic, but she was no dummy. She knew Fate was real. Was Fate leading Carol into the arms of a shifter? Carol smiled.
Hopefully, Barbara was right about one thing: that the reindeer shifter was a hottie with a body. There was no way he was Ethan. No frikkin’ way. It was impossible. But, Carol wouldn’t mind finding something to distract her from all the Christmas junk going on around the Bear Claw Bakery. Would the reindeer come back to get her number? Was he going to claim her in the back room of the bakery?
Carol’s thoughts were interrupted as Ethan and Krampus came out the back of the bakery. Ethan was carrying Krampus’s daily order in its special wooden box.
“Hey,” said Carol. “You two missed one heck of a fight. Somebody tried to steal my purse, and some reindeer shifter and a frikkin’ goat stopped them.”
“Oh, is that what that was over?” asked Ethan. “I didn’t want to interfere.”
Carol crossed her arms.
“You mean you saw someone trying to steal my purse, and you didn’t do anything to stop them?” asked Carol with a raised brow.
“I mean, I did, but the reindeer and goat look like they had it covered,” said Ethan.
“Uh-huh,” said Carol, shaking her head. “I’ll let you two get back to Camp Kringle. Wouldn’t want to keep you.”
“Carol —” started Ethan.
“Ethan, don’t worry about it,” said Carol. “You were a coward. So what? I guess I was wrong about you being this big, alpha male shifter. It’s whatever.”
“We do need to be going,” said Krampus, giving Ethan a push forward toward the dock. “So sorry we couldn’t’ve been of more help, Carol. My apologies.”
Carol watched as Krampus and Ethan walked down to the dock. There it was. She had her proof that Ethan wasn’t the reindeer, or the goat for that matter, and that he hadn’t helped save her purse from the thief. It really was too bad that Ethan hadn’t ended up being the alpha male shifter she’d hoped he’d be. Was he a bad boy at times? Yes, but the reason it was tolerable was because there was the promise that he’d be bad during the right times, for the right reasons. He’d be bad for good. Apparently, the bad boy was all bite and no bear.
Chapter Five
December 18th, 2009
Every single idea Carol had for the Secret Santana party was shot down by Avery. During her break, she sat at one of the tables inside the bakery’s seating area and tried to a good theme for the Secret Santana party’s menu. White Christmas had already been done. Of course, it had been. Even things Carol thought were unique ideas, like ‘Peppermint Everything,’ had already been done.
“Not that,” said Carol, crumpling up the paper with her idea on it and putting it down.
“What’s this?” asked a male voice, reaching out for the paper and unfurling it.
Carol looked up, prepared to scold Ethan, but Ethan wasn’t the one in front of her. For once, Carol was disappointed not to see Ethan. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him since the fight. She wanted to ask Ethan if he knew the reindeer shifter who had saved her. Ethan seemed to know more about the goings-on at The Wreath than Carol knew. It was a regular, a young man named Jack, and his friend Pandora, who sat across from Carol.
“Whatcha working on?” asked Pandora, sipping an eggnog latte.
“It’s nothing,” said Carol. “It’s for my boss.”
“Oh, my dad?” asked Pandora.
“Is your dad’s name Santana?” asked Carol.
“Yup,” said Jack. “Her dad and my dad, Boreas, work together.”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘together,’ but, okay,” said Pandora, raising her brow. “Anyway. What are you working on?”
“I guess your dad’s holding a giant Christmas party this year, for everyone at his company,” said Carol.
“Duh, I know,” said Pandora. “We all got our assignments for Secret Santana here, at the same time. Don’t you remember?”
“I guess I was too occupied with who I got for Secret Santana,” said Carol. “Anyway. I have to figure out a theme for the party. Got any leads?”
“My dad loves breakfast food, so he had a ball at last years’ ‘Christmas Breakfast for Dinner’ party. Well. He enjoyed the plate I made him. He had to work late,” said Pandora. “He always does.”
“On Christmas Eve? Weird a guy who you could practically call ‘Father Christmas’ works on Christmas frikkin’ Eve,” said Carol. “Get it? ‘Father Christmas’? Because he’s’ your dad and he likes Christmas?”
“Uh-huh, I got it,” said Pandora. “Jack and I have been to so many of my dads’ parties that I think we’d have a hard time being objective and helping you come up with a theme, babe.”
“No hints or clues whatsoever?” asked Carol.
“Well, if you need someone to bounce ideas off of, we’re here, but we’re going to be busy with preparations for the holidays,” said Pandora.
“Oh, you temp at your dad’s company?” asked Carol.
“You could say we both provide our dads with some extra help for the holidays,” said Jack. “You don’t have any friends in town you can bounce ideas off of?”
“Are you kidding me?” asked Carol. “I’ve only met one other person while I’ve been working here, and he’s a jerk.”
“Oh?” asked Pandora. “Is he a jerk to everyone, or just BBWs he’s crushing on?”
“Ugh. I think he does have a crush on me,” said Carol. “Is that bad?”
“No,” said Pandora. “Leverage it. If he wants a date with you, he better do the practically impossible and help you out with this party.”
“Impossible?” asked Carol.
“My dad’s a hard man to please,” said Pandora. “In his mind, you’re either Naughty or Nice. Let’s hope you don’t make The Naughty List, Carol.”
“Oh, no,” said Carol. “I don’t wanna get fired!”
“I’m kidding,” said Pandora. “Relax. Worst comes to worst, we spike the eggnog, and he won’t remember the party at all. See you around.”
Pandora and Jack left the bakery. Carol went back to figuring out theme ideas for the party and kept coming up blank. She was distracted by Pandora’s suggestion. Was there a possibility Ethan could help her out after all?
Carol went outside to look across The Wreath and see if Ethan and Krampus were coming over yet. As she walked outside, she noticed the sole of her winter boots had started to come off. She hung her jacket up inside and saw a rip in it.
“Hey, Avery,” said Carol, knocking on the door to Avery’s open office. “My uh, jacket and boots are messed up. Do you mind if I run to the hardware store real fast to grab a sewing kit and some glue?”
“Give me two seconds,” said Avery. “I’m sure I have all that around here somewhere.”
Carol took her boots and her jacket to her table inside the bakery, along with the journal and pen, in case she came up with some ideas. Avery brought out a sewing kit, a bottle of glue, and some acetone and cotton pads to remove the glue if it got messy.
“Thanks,” said Carol. “This should just take me ten minutes.”
“Wouldn’t want my special helper freezing, would I?” asked Avery with a wink. “Take all the time you need.”
Carol got to work. She was so engrossed in her task that she almost missed Ethan walking into the bakery. He waved at Carol and waited in line for his order. Carol smiled to herself. Apparently, big city shifters could learn manners. Ethan grabbed his order and came up to Carol.
“Can I sit here, or is there a line?” joked Ethan.
“Seat’s yours,” said Carol.
“What are you working on?” asked Ethan.
“My frikkin’ shoes are busted,” said Carol. “See? The so
les are coming off.”
“Let me help you with that,” said Ethan.
“How exactly can you help?” asked Carol.
“I can clamp the two parts together to form a stronger seal,” said Ethan. “It’s no trouble. I might as well make myself useful.”
“Fine, whatever,” said Carol. Ethan took her boots, one in each hand, and gripped them, hard. Carol went back to sewing her coat up.
“What happened to all your clothes?” asked Ethan.
“They’re just getting old,” said Carol. “I’m not Cinderella, with a new pair of shoes and a fancy dress gifted to me by some magic fairy godmother. This is the real world, and when people like me need new clothes, well, they just make their old clothes new again.”
“You can’t afford new winter clothes?” asked Ethan.
“I don’t think my finances are any of your business,” said Carol. “I have a lot on my plate right now, Ethan. Not to be rude, but, I’m dealing with work stuff as well.”
“What kind of work stuff?” asked Ethan, spying Carol’s journal.
“It’s nothing,” said Carol. “How’re things at Camp Kringle?”
“Same old, same old,” said Ethan. “I might be a bear shifter, but Krampus works me like a dog shifter. I even have to work on Christmas Eve. Big job.”
“Does that suck or not?” asked Carol.
“What do you mean?” asked Ethan. “I’m used to working on Christmas. I don’t exactly like the holiday. Or any holidays. I’m not big on the ‘rest’ part of ‘rest and recreation.’ Work hard, play hard.”
“And you can sleep when you’re dead?” asked Carol.
“Exactly,” said Ethan. “What’re you doing for Christmas?”
“Working,” said Carol. “That’s why I came up here. I’m helping Avery out during the holiday season, and I mean the whole holiday season. Christmas Day, I head back home.”
“And where’s home?” asked Ethan.
“A little town in the middle of nowhere called Port Jameson,” said Carol. “You’d probably like it. It’s all bear shifters.”
“I have friends there,” said Ethan.
“Anyone I’d know?” asked Carol.
“The Ashers and the Dixons,” said Ethan.
“As in the frikkin’ Asher-Dixon billionaires?” asked Carol. “Ethan, what’s your deal?”
“It’s not important,” said Ethan. “What do you have to do for Avery?”
“The boss man’s holding that Christmas party, and we need to cater it with some sort of themed food,” said Carol. “The only problem is, the theme has to be something he’s never seen before.”
“White Christmas?” asked Ethan.
“Already done,” said Carol.
“English Christmas,” said Ethan.
“Been done,” said Carol.
“Luxury,” said Ethan. “Go big or go home. Do something he has to like.”
“Luxury,” said Carol. “Huh. I didn’t think about that. Luxury’s a broad theme, though. How do you make Christmas luxurious?”
“Focus on one element,” said Ethan. “Make that luxurious. I’ve heard through the grapevine that Santana loves milk and cookies.”
“Really? A grown man who likes milk and cookies?” asked Carol. “That doesn’t exactly scream ‘luxury.’”
“I’m not finished,” said Ethan. “I’ve heard he likes chocolate chip cookies.”
“Chocolate chip is not luxurious,” said Carol.
“It can be,” said Ethan. “Chocolate was a luxury item for a long time. Heck, it still is. There are all kinds of varieties out there, made all around the world. There’s delicious Italian chocolate made with hazelnuts. There are bittersweet cacao nibs. The Swiss are famous for their milk chocolate, made with milk from cows pastured in the Alps. You can bake the luxury chocolate into cookies. You can use luxury chocolate in fondue pots and serve plain cookies people could dip into the pots. Shortbread would work. So would sugar cookies.”
“What about a chocolate fountain?” asked Carol.
“That could work, as long as you don’t have to add too much oil to the fountain for lubrication,” said Ethan. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe that’s what Santana wants to see: a big, messy chocolate fountain. The tiered models are sort of shaped like Christmas trees.”
“I think you’re onto something here,” said Carol. “There’s one only problem.”
“The budget?” asked Ethan.
“Probably,” said Carol. “But there’s also the problem of how we’ll get the chocolate. If you haven’t noticed, The Wreath doesn’t exactly have a luxury chocolate shop in town.”
“You mean a chocolatier?” asked Ethan.
“What did I just say?” asked Carol. “I have to admit, this is a really great idea.”
Avery walked up to the table, arms crossed.
“Is this boy bothering you?” asked Avery.
“No, not at all,” said Carol. “He may’ve just saved Santana’s Christmas party. Avery…has Santana ever held a ‘Luxury Milk and Cookies’ themed party?”
“No, but sell me on it,” said Avery.
“We’d bake our classic chocolate chip cookies, but we’d use luxury chocolate,” said Carol. “We could have fondue pots of melted luxury chocolate for cookie dipping.”
“What about the milk?” asked Avery. “It’s not a milk and cookies part without milk.”
“You’d offer plain milk as well as flavored milks that go well with chocolate,” said Ethan. “Obviously, you should offer chocolate milk. You could also offer vanilla, strawberry, and more exotic flavors, like almond syrup milk, or even mint. Make some cookie straws, and you’re golden.”
“What do you think?” asked Carol. “Would Santana like it?”
“He’ll love it,” said Avery. “You two did good. I actually came out here to kick Ethan’s firm ass back to Camp Kringle. Krampus is waiting in the kitchen. You know the drill. Wait…actually, uh, before you go, you two need to do something.”
“Need me to do some heavy lifting?” asked Ethan, flexing his arm. His lumberjack bicep nearly tore through his flannel shirt. Ethan scented out Carol’s arousal. It took all his strength to stop himself from confronting her with that knowledge and persuading her to let him claim her right then and there.
“I don’t think standing underneath mistletoe requires lifting,” said Avery. “It requires kissing.”
“What mistletoe?” asked Carol, looking up. “Oh. That mistletoe.” Above Carol was a sprig of white berries with green leaves, tied to the rafters. She’d sworn that the bundle of leaves hadn’t been there before! Avery walked away to give Ethan and Carol some privacy.
“We don’t have to kiss,” said Ethan. “That’s a silly tradition.”
“Well…” started Carol.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do you have another lesson to teach me? About how normal people do things? What’s the polite thing to do in this situation?”
“I mean – if you think about it, mistletoe’s pretty creepy,” said Carol lamely. “But…I guess it is the Christmas season, and I wouldn’t hate kissing you.” Carol got up from her chair. “Would you hate kissing me?”
“Of course not,” Ethan whispered huskily.
“What was that?”“ asked Carol, as Ethan’s whisper had been drowned out by the ambient noise of the bakery.
“I said ‘of course not,’” replied Ethan, more loudly.
“Oh my gosh – shut up!” hissed Carol. “You didn’t need to be that loud!”
“Then shut me up,” challenged Ethan, looking down at Carol and crossing his arms.
Carol wasn’t a shifter, but she pounced on Ethan like a were-lioness, getting on her tippy-toes and wrapping her arms around Ethan before jumping to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. She’d needed to use her arms as leverage to climb up to kiss Ethan. She didn’t expect Ethan to put his strong hands on her waist and hold her. She didn’t expect him to lean down so she could kiss him more deeply.
“Ethan! We need to get a move on!” called Krampus. “Chop-chop!”
Carol broke the kiss.
“Sorry,” said Carol. “I didn’t mean to make you late.”
“You can make me late any time,” said Ethan with a wink. “I guess this is goodbye – for now.”
“I guess so,” said Carol, watching Ethan walk away.
What do you think? asked Prancer. Is she…?
Yes, said Ethan. Absolutely. I can’t believe it took me coming all the way to Montana to find her.
So, what are you going to do? asked Prancer.
What I do best, said Ethan. I’m going to blow a million dollars.
Chapter Six
December 19th, 2009
“Rise and shine, baby face,” shouted Krampus, pounding on Ethan’s bedroom door.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” grumbled Ethan. One of the worst things about doing hard time at Camp Kringle was being woken up by a literal demon every morning. Ethan’s dreams were pleasant enough. It was the same dream, over and over, about a certain curvy baker. The setting changed every time, but recently, the settings had become much more luxurious. Ethan wasn’t sure what he missed more when Krampus woke him from his slumber — the feeling of his dream girl’s curves or the feeling of the silk sheets he’d dreamt of.
“Better hurry because we’re going straight to The North Pole today,” said Krampus.
Ethan got out of the queen-sized bed which was much smaller than the bed he was used to sleeping in back in New York City, in his high-rise condo. Ethan went to the small closet. He pulled out the untouched outfit that had hung in the closet since his arrival. The outfit consisted of a black turtleneck sweater, a black undershirt, and a pair of skin-tight black pants. There was even a matching pair of boxers.
Ethan grabbed the clothing and went to the shower. There was a single bathroom in the workhouse, which had living quarters as well as workspaces, such as Krampus’ office. Ethan took a quick shower and changed into the special outfit.
Prancer Claws: The Twelve Mates Of Christmas, Book 3 Page 5