Page 5 of Viking’s Naughty Elf

Chloe cuddles into my chest, and we sit that way for a while with the crackling fire at her back and snow falling outside the window. It’s all very picturesque and romantic–far more so than any position I ever thought I’d find myself in.

“Hey.” An idea strikes. “Would you like to help me tomorrow?”

Chloe’s head tilts to see my face better. “With what?”

“I need a new helper elf. My current one is ready to pop with twins, and I think she’d be okay with being replaced this year.” Julia is a sweetheart, but I know through her husband, Cassius, that she hasn’t been having an easy time of it the last couple of months. The extra rest will do her good.

“I wouldn’t know what to do.” But there’s interest in her eyes.

“It’s easy. Greet the children, encourage them to come see me, take photos, and lots of smiling.” I trail a finger along her cheek. “And you have a stunning smile.” That blush is back.

“All right, I’d love to.” She leans forward and gently places her lips over mine. When she goes to pull back, I follow and take over.

Deepening the moment, I slide my tongue across hers, dancing in her mouth and taking everything I want while she sweetly allows me to do as I please. My hands skim up her back under her shirt, and I dig my fingers into her silky flesh. The need to have her feel me long after my touch is gone drives me to embrace her harder. Her fingers dig into my scalp as she tugs on the strands of my hair, clutching me just as close. Just as tightly.

And this is how we spend most of the night until the fire dies and Chloe can hardly sit upright. After carrying her to bed, half asleep, I strip us both of our clothes and climb under the covers with her, holding her tight to me all night long, ensuring I have the best sleep of my life.

CHLOE

“Escuze me?” A little hand tugs on the skirt of my elf outfit, so I kneel down to meet the little boy’s eyes.

“Yes?” He seems a little shier now, so I wait patiently.

Pointing to where Rune stands dressed up as Santa, he asks, “Is that really Santa?” This is not the first time I’ve been asked this, and each time is adorable.

Crooking my finger so he comes closer, I ask, “Can I tell you a secret?” His green eyes widen, and he slowly nods. “It’s not the real Santa; he’s busy getting ready for Christmas, but he is one of Santa’s longest and most trusted friends, doing the job for him so that he makes sure Christmas is special for everyone.”

“He knows Santa?” I make a show of looking around before nodding briefly. “Wow.”

“Pretty cool, huh?” The boy nods again before it’s his turn to meet the big man in red. “Ready to say hello?” I offer my hand, and he hesitates for a second before grabbing it, and I lead him to where Rune sits, his chair large enough for more than one child to sit next to him, or there’s a stool for them to stand on.

“Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas, Henry!” Rune booms joyfully. Watching him with the children today has been beautiful.

“He knows my name,” Henry whispers with awe.

“Told you…best friends.” I wink as he begins walking up the steps to Rune without me.

We’ve been in Santa’s Village the entire morning and have seen as many kids as possible with only three left in line, and I must admit, it’s the most fun I’ve had in years. I love what I do, but it’s so lonely and isolating. Oftentimes, it’s been terrifying, too.

I’ve not really told my family how dangerous some of the jobs have been in the past because I wanted to shelter them from worry. After my last assignment in Ukraine with UNICEF, we were nearly killed in a bombing, and to say I was scared straight would be an understatement.

I took on the Viking article and research because it seemed safe. There were no enemies to report on, no heartbreak to photograph. Everyone I’m speaking about has been dead for centuries. I can’t be hurt, and neither can anyone else.

Or so I thought.

Watching Rune now, with the feelings in my chest growing, I can see two roads in front of me. One filled with love, family, and laughter, and the other filled with Rune believing I’m not good enough and breaking my heart. I’d never recover.

What are you doing, Chloe?

Self-sabotaging before we can even have a chance.

Sighing inwardly, I plaster on a smile as little Henry talks animatedly to Rune, snapping a few candid shots before settling them for a more staged look. I’ve enjoyed giving parents options with photos they take home, and so far, they’ve all enjoyed the ones where their child or children are interacting with Santa.

I could do this, I realize.

Writing articles and photographing the children of Greenland.

I could spend my life in delightfully sweet moments like this if that meant keeping Rune and creating a life and maybe a family with my very own Viking Santa.

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