Page 9 of Rebel Without a Claus
Her eyes flicker down to my mouth. Just for a second. But I notice all the same.
I clear my throat and set her upright. “You’re probably going to want to keep her in the pen. She’s a bit of a?—”
“A troublemaker?” she finishes for me. “That’s okay. I know a thing or two about troublemakers.”
My throat goes dry as she holds my gaze for a breath too long.
Blitzen chooses that moment to prance smugly past us, tail flicking like she knows exactly what she’s done. And Eve, eyes still on me, whips out a hand and snatches the lead from Blitzen’s harness, turning her glare on my reindeer. “You and I are going to be friends by the end of this. I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Well… I guess I leave you two to it, then, huh?”
I turn and head back to my truck, leaving her and Blitzen alone. By the time I’m halfway down the driveway, I hear the first shriek.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
CHAPTER 4
Eve
I am in hell. Festive, twinkling, peppermint-scented hell.
Blitzen—spawn of Satan disguised as a reindeer—is currently galloping through the front yard of The North Star Lodge, sending my painstakingly arranged decorations flying like Christmas confetti.
I don’t know what the hell kind of cheap ass pen Luke set up, but it only held her for about twenty minutes before Blitzen had barreled through it.
“Blitzen, no! Bad reindeer!” I shriek, lunging toward her just as she charges straight through my carefully placed display of nutcrackers, shattering one into sad, wooden shards.
She doesn’t even flinch. She just keeps running forward like a furry freight train, her giant hooves crunching through the manger scene I spent an hour strategically setting up. My blood pressure skyrockets as she turns, directing herself toward the life size sleigh filled with faux wrapped presents.
A group of about eight children and their parents stand on the front porch of my parent’s inn, steaming mugs of hot chocolate in hand and mouths agape. My brilliant idea to selltickets and hot chocolate to families who wanted to meet one of Santa’s reindeer has gone terribly awry.
“I swear to Santa, Blitzen… if you knock over that sleigh, I will?—”
Crash!
Blitzen plows into the sleigh, sending it toppling sideways and scattering presents through the yard. One of the toy reindeer detaches and lands with a pitiful littlethunkin the snow.
I take a deep, calming breath. Murdering a reindeer would officially put me on the naughty list… right?
“Eve? Honey?”
I spin around to see Mom standing on the porch, her expression torn between amusement and mild panic. She’s clutching a coffee mug that saysDon’t Mess with Mrs. Claus, and I could really use a sip of whatever’s inside it right now. Even better if that coffee has a splash of Irish in it.
“I don’t suppose you want to help wrangle this big girl, do you?” I ask, shoving my hair out of my face.
She sips her coffee. “Absolutely not. That sounds like a job for one of Santa’s elves.”
“Traitor.”
Blitzen, now emboldened by her successful path of destruction, makes a beeline for the candy cane decorations hanging from the trees.
“Oh, you havegotto be kidding me,” I groan as she expertly yanks one down with her teeth and starts chomping like a delinquent kid in a candy store. That’s all we need… for Blitzen to be on a destructive sugar high.
“Mommy, is Blitzen okay?” One of the children tearfully asks.
Mom claps her hands together. “Not to worry, kids! Blitzen ate a couple of Santa’s cookies and just like whenyouhave alittle too much sugar, she’s feeling a little bit of a rush! How about we go inside and heat up some more hot chocolate?”
“Yeah!” Several of the kids throw their hands into the air and rush to the front door where my dad is ushering them inside.
