Page 5 of Merry Cris Moose

Cris grinned, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Glad to be of service, beautiful. And I'm not done with you yet. I plan on making you come a few more times before the night is through."

Keely's eyes widened, a mixture of excitement and anticipation. "Oh, I can't wait. But first, I think we should finish those beers. I have a feeling we're both going to need them."

They laughed. It was clear that this night was just the beginning of something fiery and wild. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced—intense, primal, and overwhelming. Cris was dominant, commanding, his movements confident, and every moment left her gasping for more. The cabin was filled with the sounds of their passion, the world outside forgotten.

Keely awoke slowly the next morning, the warmth of the soft sheets surrounding her as the early morning light filtered through her curtains. For a moment, she lay still, her body still humming from the night before, a languid satisfaction settling in her bones.

But when she reached out beside her, the space next to her was empty. The sheets were cold, the imprint of his body already fading.

Her heart sank, an uneasy feeling creeping up her chest. She sat up, pulling the sheet around her as she looked around the room. The clothes that had been strewn across the floor were gone, and there, on the nightstand, a small note sat folded neatly.

Keely’s stomach twisted as she reached for it, her fingers trembling slightly as she unfolded the paper.

Keely, something urgent came up. I had to leave early. Last night was... unexpected, but I don’t regret it. I’ll be in touch. – Cris.

She stared at the words, her mind trying to process the mixed emotions swirling inside her.I’ll be in touch?The casual tone of it stung more than she expected. Was this just a fling to him? A one-night indulgence in the middle of his business trip? Well, what had she expected? It wasn’t like she’d made it difficult for him.

Aggravated, she tossed the note back on the nightstand, pulling the sheet tighter around her as she stared at the empty bed. What had she been thinking? Letting herself get swept away like that, caught up in the intensity of it all. Now, in the quiet light of morning, the high from their encounter had faded, leaving only questions—and an ache she hadn’t anticipated. She had no idea where things stood between them now, but one thing was certain: Cris Sutton had walked out of her life as quickly as he had entered it, leaving her with nothing but confusion and the lingering warmth of his touch.

Chapter

Three

CRIS

Cris strode through the thick snow, his breath coming out in quick clouds as he crossed the icy courtyard of North Star’s Headquarters. His coat was pulled tight around him, but the cold did little to numb the heat still coursing through his veins—the lingering fire left behind from his night with Keely. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. The reality of his world and all it entailed had yanked him away far too soon.

He clenched his fists as he neared the towering doors of the North Star Toy factory, frustration gnawing at him. He hadn’t wanted to leave like that, slipping out before dawn with only a note to explain. If it hadn’t been for that urgent message from Holly, his chief toymaker, he might still be there with Keely, tangled in her sheets, exploring every inch of her until they both forgot about the outside world.

But Holly’s message had been clear: something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

The heavy wooden doors swung open, the warm glow from inside spilling into the snow-covered courtyard. The scent of gingerbread and peppermint always lingered in the air here, but today, there seemed to be a subtle change in the magic that pulsed through the place.

Holly was waiting for him just inside the entrance, her petite figure tense, a frown creasing her usually cheerful face. Being an elf, Holly’s pointed ears twitched slightly when something had her rattled.

“Holly,” Cris said as he approached, his voice rougher than usual. His thoughts were still half-occupied with Keely, but the seriousness in Holly’s eyes snapped his focus back to the present. “What’s going on?”

“It’s bad, Cris,” Holly said, her green eyes wide with concern. She shifted nervously, her small hands clasped together. “We’ve been keeping a close eye on the belief levels around the world. They’re dropping… fast.”

A cold dread slid through him. "How fast?" he asked, his jaw tightening. She was right; they had been watching them, but he hadn't anticipated this, not so soon before Christmas.

“Way too fast.” Holly shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. “If they keep dropping, we might not have enough to keep up with production, much less to power the sleigh. We’ve tried recalibrating the distribution systems, but it isn’t doing any good. It’s like with fewer and fewer people believing, the magic is... fading.”

Cris cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered. “Not now.”

“We have to figure this out. If we don’t, we’ll be lucky to get through the season. I can’t imagine a world without Christmas and all the magic that comes with it.”

Cris nodded and gestured for her to follow as they made their way through the open workshop and into the main meeting hall. The place was usually bustling with activity—elves working on the latest toys, the hum of the season filling the air—but today, the energy felt subdued. Even the overhead lights seemed dimmer, flickering slightly as if struggling to stay lit.

Damn it.

His thoughts raced as he walked, feeling the weight of his responsibilities. This was more than just a job. For him and everyone else here, Christmas had become something of a calling. It had been ever since Santa entrusted him with overseeing the operations at North Star Toys. He needed to get this fixed, and fast, before it reached Santa’s ears.

Pushing the door to the conference room open, Cris found Jack and Tinker already waiting for him. Jack leaned casually against the wall, his pale skin and silver hair making him look as frosty as the winter air outside, but there was a sharpness in his gaze, an awareness of the gravity of the situation. Tinker, the head of the toy division, sat at the table, his brow furrowed as he toyed with a small mechanical gadget in his hands.

“This had better be good, Cris,” Jack drawled, his eyes narrowing. “I was in the middle of a rather important ice storm.”

“I’m not in the mood, Jack,” Cris snapped as he took his place at the head of the table. “We have a serious problem. Holly says the belief levels are dropping all over the world. If we don’t get it fixed, Christmas could be in jeopardy.”

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