Page 32 of Daddy Christmas

"Come on," Nicholas said, his hand warm against the small of my back again. He guided me toward a stall where rows of pastries steamed in the cold air. The smell hit me first—sweet, buttery, with just a hint of spice. My stomach growled loud enough that I winced.

"Hungry?" he teased, his lips curving into that maddeningly perfect smile.

"Maybe a little," I admitted, though my face burned.

"Try this," he said, plucking up something that looked like a small pie from the counter. It was warm when he handed it to me, wrapped in crisp parchment paper.

"What is it?"

"Just taste."

I bit into it cautiously, expecting it to be good but notthisgood. The filling was rich and spiced, bursting across my tongue in a way that made my knees want to give out.

"Okay," I mumbled around another bite. "This might actually be magic."

Nicholas chuckled, low and soft. "You’re catching on."

The vendor—a tiny elf with glasses perched on the end of her nose—beamed at me. "First time here?" she asked, her voice high and lilting.

"Yeah," I said after swallowing.

"Stick with him," she said, jerking her chin toward Nicholas. "He knows his way around."

"Does he now?" I shot him a look, but he only smirked and steered me toward the next stall.

Everywhere I turned, there was something new. A booth with glass ornaments that seemed to hum faintly when I passed. Another where an elf carved figurines out of what looked like ice, though they didn’t melt under his hands. One stall sold candies wrapped in foil so shiny I could see my reflection in them.

"Here," Nicholas said suddenly, pulling me toward a table covered in jars. Each one held a different kind of jam, the colors deep and jewel-like. He picked up a spoon, dipped it into something bright red, and held it out to me.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Trust me."

I hesitated, then leaned forward and took the smallest taste. Tartness exploded in my mouth, sweet and sharp all at once.

"Wow," I managed.

"See? Told you."

"Do you do this for everyone?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Do what?" His gaze locked on mine, green eyes sharper than I expected.

"Show them all this." I waved vaguely around us, trying to pretend my cheeks weren’t heating.

"Not everyone," he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Well, not anyone, really.”

"Right." I ducked my head, pretending to examine another jar while my pulse thudded embarrassingly loud in my ears.

"Over here," he said after a moment, leading me away again.

We stopped in front of a group of elves gathered around a spinning wheel. The elf working it was older, with silver hair woven into a braid that nearly reached the floor. She glanced up as we approached and broke into a grin.

"Nick!" she said, her voice warm.

"Belle," he greeted, his tone softer than I’d heard it yet.

"Who’s this?" She eyed me with open curiosity.

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