Page 12 of Merry Cris Moose

Heat surged through Cris’s veins as his hands slid around her waist, pulling her tightly against him. She melted into his embrace, her body pressing against his in a way that made his control slip even further. He wanted her—needed her—more than he could ever remember needing anyone. The fire between them roared to life as he deepened the kiss, his hands roaming, exploring, claiming every inch of her he could touch.

Keely moaned softly against his lips, her hands tangling in his hair, and Cris’s heart raced with the knowledge that she felt it, too—this connection, this unstoppable force pulling them together. Every kiss, every touch, every ragged breath they shared only fueled the desire that burned between them.

He turned so her back pressed against the edge of the counter, the clutter of mixing bowls and baking trays forgotten as Cris’s hands slid beneath her sweater, seeking the warmth of her skin. He felt her shiver under his touch, her breath hitching as he explored the soft curve of her waist, the intoxicating feel ofher sending his senses spiraling. He wanted more—needed more of her, more of this, more of them.

Keely gasped as his lips trailed down her neck, her head falling back as she surrendered to the moment. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and the heat of her breath against his skin was enough to drive him mad with want. Cris’s mind raced, caught between the intensity of his desire and the knowledge that this—she—was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

But just as the moment deepened, the air filled with a sudden, deafening sound.

Alarms.

Cris froze, his senses jolting back to reality. The blaring sound cut through the haze of desire, reminding him of the responsibility he couldn’t escape. He pulled back, his heart still racing, but the weight of his duties grounded him and reminded him that there was more at stake than just claiming Keely.

Keely looked up at him, her eyes wide with concern. “What... what is that?”

Cris clenched his jaw, struggling to tamp down the emotions swirling inside him. “It’s the magic levels,” he said, his voice tight with frustration.

“Magic levels?” she asked confused.

“Yes, I don’t have time to explain. But they’re important, and the alarm means they’re dropping.”

The bakery lights flickered, casting the room into a dim glow, and Cris’s gut twisted with the reminder of the crisis they were still facing. He had let himself get swept up in the moment, in his growing feelings for Keely, but the reality of the situation came crashing back down.

Keely’s hand found his, her touch grounding him, but also pulling him in two directions at once. “You need to go,” she said softly, her voice full of understanding but also tinged with disappointment.

Cris nodded, torn. “I don’t really have a choice, but I don’t want to leave you... not right now,” he admitted, his voice thick with the weight of his conflicted emotions. He cupped her face with his hand, his thumb brushing over her cheek, and for a moment, he wanted to forget everything—the alarms, the crisis, his responsibilities—and lose himself in her.

But he couldn’t.

“I have to handle this,” Cris said, forcing himself to step back, though every fiber of his being ached to stay with her. “I’ll explain everything later, but right now... I’ve got to go.”

Keely nodded, her gaze steady but filled with the same sense of loss he felt. “I understand,” she whispered, though Cris could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering just long enough to feel her sigh softly against him. “This isn’t over,” he promised, his voice low.

With a final look, Cris turned and ran toward the door. His responsibilities couldn’t wait, not when the very magic that kept Christmas alive was slipping through their fingers. He could feel the weight of all that was at stake. But even as he rushed outside, the connection he felt with Keely burned bright, refusing to be extinguished.

As he hurried across the open space toward the heart of the North Pole’s operations, Cris couldn’t shake the growing sense of dread. Things were getting worse. The magic levels were dropping fast, and every moment they couldn’t stop them increased the threat to Christmas itself. But as he ran, the snow crunching beneath his boots, one thought pulsed stronger than any other, and it wasn’t concerning magic or Christmas or toys.

It was Keely.

No matter what was happening, no matter what challenges lay ahead, Cris knew one thing with absolute certainty—hewasn’t letting her go. Now, he just had to figure out how to save Christmas... without losing her in the process.

Chapter

Six

KEELY

Keely’s office and workspace was off the main floor of the toy factory. She stared out the frosted window into the magical landscape of the North Star Toys facility. The snow glittered beneath the soft glow of the hanging lanterns outside, casting a surreal beauty over the scene. She’d barely caught her breath since arriving.

Cris had been called away almost immediately after their heated moment in the bakery. He’d apologized more than once, his intense gaze locking onto hers, promising he’d be back as soon as possible.

The sudden knock at her door startled her from her thoughts.

“Come in,” Keely called, rising from the stool.

The door opened to reveal Holly, the petite, delicate girl who had introduced herself as one of Cris’s chief toymakers. She was almost impossibly tiny, with bright, sparkling green eyes, a smattering of freckles across her nose, and a cheery smile that seemed to never leave her face. Today, she was bundled in a festive green and red coat with a furry collar.

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