Page 16 of Donner

I picked him up and tossed him over my shoulder. "Yep."

"Put me down!" His voice was gruff, but he didn't struggle while I carried him the rest of the way to my truck.

When I finally set him back on his feet, he launched himself at me, grabbing me around the neck and pulling me down for a deep kiss. "Thank you," he said.

"For carrying you?"

He laughed and punched me in the arm. "No, silly. For today. All of it. I had a great time with you."

I frowned. "All of it?"

"Okay, so some of the animals are unhappy. I want to come back tonight and set them free, but I won't."

I laughed at that. "Where would you like to go for dinner?" I asked once we were buckled into the truck and back on the highway.

"Room service," he said. The deep pools of his gaze told me it would be a long night.

Chapter 9

Jax

The best part about walking through the zoo with Beau was holding his hand. Even when the hot sidewalks and the hotter enclosures radiated heat back at us, and my palms started to sweat, I didn't dare let go. Our conversation from the night before kept playing in my head as we searched for the animals in their enclosures.

I asked Santa to bring me a friend.

Part of me was certain I was the answer to Beau's wish, but I didn't feel worthy. It felt selfish, after all. Derek was a great friend, but he always treated me like an elf. He never really understood the shifter side of me, how being a reindeer sometimes made me feel closer to nature and to myself.

Beau understood how freeing it was to shift into my reindeer and fly. I hoped he would also understand my elf side, how the holiday spirit flowed through my veins, and how I dedicated the entire winter season to pine boughs, candy canes, and hot chocolate.

Back at the hotel, we lounged on the couch and waited for our room service dinner to arrive. "Do you celebrate Christmas?" I asked.

"Not really?" He asked it as a question. "I'm not Christian."

"You don't have to be Christian to understand the spirit of Christmas," I said. "Religion is more complicated than it needs to be, with its prophets and saints and all that. The spirit of Christmas is letting joy into your heart and offering kindness to strangers. It's knowing you'll get what you want before you ask. It's believing in something bigger than yourself, something benevolent and good, and knowing it believes in you."

Beau frowned. "My mom talked a lot about unconditional love. I always thought it was bullshit she believed so she wouldn't be angry all the time, at all the stupid shit people did to her. My dad left her when she was still pregnant, and I wasn't an easy kid to raise. I had my own ideas and beliefs, and they often conflicted with hers. Still, she loved me no matter what."

I could tell from his tone that she was no longer living. "What happened to her?"

"Cancer, two years ago. It took her quick. She died in her sleep the night before she was supposed to get her first treatment."

"I'm so sorry," I said. We'd heard of cancer at the North Pole, of course. We rarely experienced it ourselves, though. My physical therapist said we were healthier than the rest of the planet because the magic of Christmas Village kept most of the harmful chemicals out of our air and water.

"Thank you," Beau said. "She would have liked you. You're so easy to talk to."

For a moment, I thought Beau was going to say he liked me, or something more, but that was silly. We'd just met. I loved him in the way I loved everyone, or so I tried to tell myself. I didn't let just anyone touch my cock, so it sounded like a lie inside my own head. Still, it was way too early to be throwing around terms like, "mate," and "love," even though I already believed I could be happy with him.

"Tell me more about Christmas at the North Pole." He scooted closer to me on the couch. "Is it like the reindeer story they show on television every year?"

I laughed. "None of the reindeer call anybody names." I swallowed, remembering my own father's ridicule. Our food arrived then, and I was saved by the bustle of tipping our server and setting up our meals on the coffee table.

"Are you all right?" Beau asked after we'd devoured most of our food. "You don't have to lie to me if the other reindeer are mean to you."

"No. The team is great. My Santa, all the Santas, are great. It's my dad, Jed Donner. He passed down his surname and his reindeer genes, but he's an alpha. He expected me to be an alpha, too."

"Oh." Beau patted my knee. "I guess in some ways, it's good that I didn't know my dad. I didn't have to worry about meeting his expectations." Still, thinking about his dad put a far-away sadness in his gaze.

"My papa makes up for it," I said. "He made me cookies whenever Dad found a new reason to complain. He tried to stick up for me, but Dad would tell him he didn't understand reindeer politics. We had to hide our excitement when Santa 30 picked me for his sleigh team because Dad was so angry."

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