Page 8 of Christmas Wishes
Tomas snickered from his end of the couch. “My Maria would say the same thing. That I was the skittish one.”
“And were you?” Mrs. Claus asked.
“I was. I had never been that close to a human before and I couldn’t take my eyes off her every time I saw her, but getting a word to come out of my mouth? That was a whole different story.”
“See?” Rand’s mother said, poking her husband. “I’m not so revolutionary after all.”
“I don’t believe revolutionary is what I’d call you, my dear. Perhaps, trailblazer. Or maybe just… forward.”
“Forward is it? Well, had I not been, we likely wouldn’t be married yet and Rand wouldn’t be here. So, you should be thankful for my forwardness the way Tomas is thankful for Maria’s.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, Rand saw Tomas nod.
Mr. and Mrs. Claus had been bantering back and forth all his life. Always with a smile, always with a sparkle in their eyes, always with love. But the zingers were tossed like snowballs and a volley was always quick to follow, with laughter in the end.
It’s what he wanted for himself. He might be a serial dater, but he wanted what his parents had. He wanted what Tomas and his wife, Maria had.
He wanted it with Blix. Nothing and no one he’d ever been with told him that more than five minutes in her company in a bakery front window did. Catching her when she stumbled, holding her when she tripped, seeing her run from him when he could’ve sworn she’d have rather kissed him…
He’d wanted her before all that, but only that; wanted her.
But now? It was more. It was a touch that sizzled along his nerve endings. It wasn’t supposed to affect him like that, but it did. He was a reindeer shifter. He wasthereindeer shifter. He was heir to the whole Christmas kingdom, and he was smitten with a cookie baking elf named Blix.
“Now, who were we talking about?” Rand’s mother asked, settling comfortably in the armchair next to her husband.“Blix.”
“Oh my. She’s lovely. She just had these delivered, as a matter of fact. Some adorable little elf named Pixie.”
“Rand is interested in her.”
“Pixie?”
“Blix. I’m interested in Blix, Mother.” He’d thought to deny it, but again, he couldn’t lie to his father, and he especially couldn’t lie to his mother.
“Blix is a sweet girl and I don’t want to dampen the mood, but she’s not why we’re here. I have a sleigh team to prepare and I —”
“No. You’re right, Tomas. She’s not why we’re here and you do have a job to do.” Rand’s father took a deep, shuddering breath and the happiness in his mother’s eyes dimmed.
“Don’t I still have twenty-four hours before a decision is made?”
“Do you need it? Do you need more time to decide what you want and what you believe and if you can carry out your duty and responsibility as my son? As my heir?”
“Rand, honey… Please…”
The solemn look in Santa’s eyes and the pleading in his mother’s… “Yes, Father, I do, need time. I…” He couldn’t finish the statement.
“Very well, son. You have twenty-four hours.”
