The Reindeer's St. Patrick's Surprise (Reindeer Holidays Book 2)

by E A Price

  Branch gave him an uncertain look and then growled softly. “Mal tells me that Corinne is back in town.”

  Harlan stared at him. The two of them watched each other for a few moments. Harlan let what he said sink in while Branch watched for his reaction.

  “News to me,” said Harlan slowly.

  Over the years he had gone out of his way to avoid Corinne’s herd. He heard vaguely that she left town shortly after their wedding day, but he hadn’t wanted to know where she was or what she was doing. He considered himself to be too gentlemanly to hurt females, but for the first few years after the aborted wedding, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t wrap his hands around her throat if he ever saw him again. Best to avoid temptation.

  “Probably best I don’t tell Mom,” said Branch.

  “Probably,” muttered Harlan dully.

  “She’s still smarting over the ice sculptures.” Branch attempted to put a bit of levity into his voice, but he wasn’t exactly funny by nature and given his audience, it fell flat – flat on its face.

  What was Corinne doing in town now? He assumed she’d be mated by now. Would he care about seeing her again?

  “How did Mal hear about this?”

  Mal was his brother’s head enforcer, in charge of the herd security and tough as hell. He was always aware of potential security risks to the herd. Would he consider Corinne a risk to them?

  Branch looked mildly uncomfortable as he admitted, “Actually he saw her at the movies.”

  Harlan almost let out a guffaw. “Mal goes to the movies?” He assumed Mal went skydiving or chewed on glass for fun in his free time. “Please tell me he likes romantic comedies.”

  “Don’t change the subject,” grumbled Branch. “Corinne’s herd have been trying to reach out to me for a few days, and now we know she’s back.”

  Harlan grunted.

  His brother smiled grimly. “So far I’ve been far too busy to speak to them.”

  Corinne’s herd may have swiped a huge business deal from them, but thanks to poor management and bad decisions they were now in financial straits, while Harlan’s herd flourished. Losing the deal may have set them back, but not for long. No, the only thing that took a large blow was Harlan’s pride.

  “I’m sure that pissed off Davies,” mused Harlan, managing to dredge up a half-smile while imagining the herd’s alpha, purple with rage. The redheaded male was quick to temper. He reminded Harlan of Yosemite Sam during his hissy fits.

  “Yep,” said Branch with relish. “Not sure I have it within myself not to curse at him down the phone.”

  The two males rarely swore thanks to their mother insisting on a swear jar while they were growing up, plus a grandmother who liked to hit them when they swore. She hit with her purse which she carried rocks in, so they soon learned their lesson.

  Branch narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have to worry about Corinne, do I?”

  “No,” said Harlan. At least, he hoped not.

  Three

  Temp paced up and down her bathroom. Nope, she was not going to look.

  The six pregnancy tests she had taken rested on the bathroom sink, calling for her to look at them. To think, she could have a baby soon. She was almost hopping up and down with excitement. Except, she needed to calm down. It might not even work. She shouldn’t start picking out names just yet. Though she did like Juliet.

  “No, no, no,” she muttered over and over.

  She grabbed her phone, perusing the twenty things on her ‘to do’ list. Temp ran her own charity, providing assistance and financial aid to various children and families, such as those who were struggling to cover serious medical bills, and providing a place for children to go after school when parents were working. Running it meant there was always something to do, but it was very rewarding.

  Temp checked her messages, ignored the daily filthy joke from Heather, and after reading them, added a few more urgent things to her list.

  She nearly jumped as the timer dinged, and eagerly she snapped up the first test and… it was negative. She threw it away and then looked at tests two to six. They were all negative. Temp stared at test number six for a few beats and dejectedly dropped it into the trash.

  “Damn it,” she muttered as she thoroughly washed her hands.

  She wasn’t sure she would be able to afford more. She could dip into her savings, but she wanted to save that for when the baby was born. She couldn’t blow all her money getting the baby and then not be able to take care of him or her.

  She had her monthly allowance from her grandparents’ estate, but apart from the amount she used for necessities, it all went into the charity, and she couldn’t allow herself to cut back on that.

  Temp forced herself to smile at her reflection, trying to erase the disappointment she saw there.

  “It’ll be okay, you will think of something,” she told herself without much conviction.

  She grabbed her phone and set off for work.

  *

  “No, you look lovely in the green and the red – take both.”

  Harlan paused outside the slightly ajar door of his uncle’s office. It was the end of the day, and his uncle’s assistant was long gone, but his uncle was still here burning the midnight oil. Or at least, burning the six o’ clock oil. His mother’s younger brother had been widowed at a young age, and had dedicated his life to the herd, working long hours and barely having a social life. Much like Branch before Mira pulled him out of his funk.

  But what really surprised Harlan was his uncle’s soft, almost playful tone. Harlan couldn’t scent anyone in the room, so he had to be speaking to someone on the phone. He heard his uncle chuckle lowly. His mind boggled as he considered the possibilities as to who. His uncle had always been a gruff and sometimes hard reindeer. Harlan still regretted learning the facts of life from his uncle. No eight-year-old should have heard the intricacies of that with such bald, factual statements.

  “No,” purred his uncle, “you know I do.”

  Harlan could only take so much chuckling before he had to put a stop to it. He was all for having fun, but listening to his uncle being all flirty and giggly was akin to witnessing the cuddly side of Vlad the Impaler – weird on lots of levels.

  Harlan strode into his uncle’s office – knocking was for the faint of heart. His uncle immediately growled, mumbled a quick goodbye into the phone and hung up.

  “You wanted to see me?” said Harlan, giving his uncle a curious look.

  Uncle Clay paled slightly on seeing Harlan and almost seemed guilty. He blustered to cover it up. “Ah, yes, I was wondering if you could attend a certain party on St. Patrick’s Day.”

  Harlan frowned slightly. “A party?”

  “You do like parties.”

  Harlan gave him a deadpan look. “No kidding.”

  Uncle Clay cleared his throat. “You remember Candace?”

  “Your sister-in-law?”

  His uncle had mated a human when he was twenty. She died of heart disease at twenty-four. He hadn’t mated again since. Harlan understood he was on friendly terms with her family.

  A shadow covered his face for a moment before he quickly masked it with a blank look. “Yes, she’s getting married, and I will be out of the country for the engagement party.”

  “You will?”

  Was his uncle actually taking a holiday? Perhaps with the person on the other end of the phone.

  Uncle Clay shrugged. “Just some business at one of our resorts in the Caribbean.” The herd owned resorts across the world. Harlan visited them as often as possible, though both Clay and Branch tended never to set foot out of Chicago.

  “I would appreciate it if a member of the family could attend the party.”

  “Of course, I always liked Candace.”

  She used to bring Harlan and his siblings candy from the different countries she visited. She started his lifelong love of gummy wasabi fish – which were an acquired taste, but not one he could shake.

  His uncle smile
d wanly. “Thank you. My assistant will send you the details.”

  Harlan opened his mouth, considering whether he wanted to probe his uncle about his love life, then quickly snapped it shut again. He wanted to know about his uncle having sex only a little less than his mom… who had only ever had sex three times because that’s how many children she had. Nope, whoever his uncle was seeing could remain a mystery.

  He turned to leave, and Uncle Clay said, “I heard about Corinne being in town.”

  “Of course you did,” said Harlan. He looked at his uncle expectantly. “You going to warn me to stay away from her?”

  Clay cocked his head to one side. “No, just wanted to tell you that I’m here if you want to talk.”

  Harlan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Talk?”

  “Well, not for the next couple of weeks because I’ll be in the Caribbean,” continued his uncle only in mild embarrassment. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type and rarely admitted to having feelings. “But I am only a phone call away.”

  Harlan smiled. “I appreciate that, but you don’t need to worry,” he said with confidence he didn’t truly feel. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to kiss or kill Corinne when he saw her, and neither of those things would work out well for him.

  Four

  Temp said hello to various volunteers as she sashayed her way through the center. Temp was thankfully rarely short of volunteers – she could bully and charm people in equal measure. Though really, most of the volunteers were parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents who had kids in some of the many programs the center ran.

  Temp placed a coffee on the desk of her deputy. Marion was one of the few people who drew a wage at the charity, and she was worth every penny. She acted as deputy, secretary, chaperone on most of the trips they organized – she was a wonder, and Temp couldn’t run the place without her. Marion was a single mother with three kids, and they met when Marion brought her kids to the center. At the time she was busting her back working three jobs, but when Temp saw how capable she was, Temp quickly snapped her up for a job.

  “Good morning,” said Temp.

  “Thank you. I’ve been through the expenses, done a Costco run this morning and I’m in the process of arranging those tickets for Luna Land. Also, I baked last night, so there’s fresh blueberry cake in the kitchen.”

  “You’re a marvel,” murmured Temp, who felt guilty that she had spent her morning fretting over the pregnancy tests – which all turned out to be negative.

  Marion beamed happily before her expression turned a little pained. “Also, It’s your dad.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I’ve been meaning to call him back.”

  She didn’t have regular contact with her dad – hadn’t for years. Usually, he was traveling with his latest girlfriend or wife, steaming his way through his own trust fund. Exploring an exotic corner of the world he hadn’t been to yet – he was running out of places in the world to visit, though he hadn’t yet ventured to Antarctica, so maybe one day…

  But, contrary to usual behavior, he had been calling and calling her recently. She was always busy so hadn’t managed to connect with him yet, not that she had particularly tried hard to call him back.

  Temp moved towards her office.

  “Wait, no, I mean…” Marion called, but it was too late.

  “Pumpkin!”

  Temp gaped. Her dad – who she hadn’t seen in person in over three years was here, in her office, grinning at her like the cat who got the cream, the canary, and the mouse.

  “Dad, you’re here,” she exclaimed in surprise, staring at him.

  He threw open his arms. “No hug from my best girl?”

  Her cheek ticked but she plastered a smile on her face, and they hugged awkwardly. She patted his back. They hadn’t hugged in over six years.

  He let go of her, and she bustled behind her desk, trying to cover up her flustering at the situation. She wasn’t sure her dad had any clue she ran the charity, never mind where their center was located.

  He smiled and dropped into her visitor’s chair. “You know this is not exactly the best neighborhood. I’m not sure you have the best security,”

  Temp shook her head, ignoring that. Her dad taking an interest in her life was a new experience, and not one she really wanted to encourage. He couldn’t ignore her for twenty years and then waltz in and tell her what she was doing wrong.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I’m getting married.”

  “I see.”

  Her heart deflated in dismay, and she was a little ashamed to realize she had been hoping he was there just to see her. Damnit, she should be over that by now.

  His brow creased a little at her dismal response. What was he expecting? A freaking parade?

  “Aren’t you happy?”

  “Sure,” she murmured softly. Sixth’s time the charm. She was getting a little tired of trying to dredge up any enthusiasm for his ill-fated marriages.

  But he seemed satisfied by her response. “I’m sure you’ll like her,” he said with what could easily be described as giddy excitement.

  “Yes,” she agreed faintly.

  Jeez, she wondered how old this one was. Nineteen maybe? Given that his wives were getting progressively younger, she wouldn’t be at all surprised. The younger his wives got, the shorter the marriages.

  “We’re having an engagement party on Saturday.”

  Temp wrinkled her nose. “St. Patrick’s Day?” Was she even old enough to drink?

  Her dad nodded. “Her parents were both Irish; she thought that they would have found it funny.”

  Hilarious she thought sourly. She hoped he wasn’t wasting too much money on this engagement party. For his last engagement party, he hired the whole aquarium and allowed everyone to swim with the dolphins. Given that his bride-to-be was a party girl and her friends unbelievably unruly, needless to say, it ended badly and his dad was inundated with lawsuits from the aquarium. The dolphins hadn’t been right since. They still had PTSD.

  He gave her a puppy dog look that seemed to work on women the world over. When it didn’t work, he had a healthy bank balance to wave at them as plan B. “You will be there, right?”

  Temp hesitated. She really didn’t want to be there, watching her dad embarrass himself over another woman while he called her his ‘best girl.’ She really didn’t feel like wasting her time.

  Her hands shuffled the various documents littering her desk. “I am rather busy.”

  “Pumpkin,” he wheedled.

  She sighed. “Are you sure about this? Are you sure about getting married again?”

  “Of course,” he replied immediately, slight surprise on his face.

  “You said that about all your last five wives, and, well…” They all ended in acrimonious, expensive divorces.

  “I’m certain about her,” he said in his usual, friendly voice, except this time, there was an edge of steel in his tone.

  Temp inwardly cursed herself. She could be tough when she needed to be – she got downright shirty when suppliers let her down. But that small part of her – the little, needy girl who just wanted her daddy’s attention – gave in.

  “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  He broke out into a grin. “That’s my best girl.”

  She pursed her lips in annoyance. “Umm hmmm.”

  Her dad got up to leave and paused. “And please invite Mira.”

  Temp blinked at him. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, she is your sister.”

  “Okay, thanks,” she mumbled.

  He rattled off the details of the party and left.

  This was new behavior for her dad. Her dad really didn’t like to acknowledge the fact that her mom left him, got remarried and had another child. Usually, he liked to pretend Mira didn’t exist – made pretending her mom didn’t have a life after she left a lot easier. Maybe that was a step up; maybe things would be different this time, though she doubted it.

  * />
  “Large latte and an almond croissant to go.”

  The bubbly barista smiled at Harlan as he handed over a twenty.

  “Keep the change,” he purred and winked at her.

  She giggled slightly excessively and virtually batted her eyelashes.

  “Have a nice day,” she said, pushing the cup at him and giving him a significant look.

  As he walked away he realized she had written her name and phone number on it, along with a few hearts – just in case he didn’t get her meaning. He smiled. He came to the coffee shop regularly and figured she was new. She seemed like a nice, young woman – if a little energetic – but he could see their relationship a mile off. They’d go out on a few dates, spend a few nights together, he’d get bored, she’d get demanding and then she’d screech at him when he broke it off. He’d done it more than a dozen times before, and he was starting to get a little tired of it. Yeah, he’d just drink his coffee, throw the cup away and save himself the bother.

  He opened the door, holding it as he spotted a woman hurrying his way. He was considering where he was going to lunch when his inner reindeer grunted uneasily. Something was wrong; his beast could sense it.

  A worryingly familiar scent attacked his senses and fury stole through him as he recognized the woman walking towards him.

  She was looking down, and as she lifted her eyes, she gasped. “Harlan?”

  “Corinne,” he growled.

  She bit her lip as her blue eyes widened. She looked the same. Her dark hair was a little shorter, but she still had those big, doe eyes, those full lips and that sweet smile that used to make his stomach flip.

  “Harlan, I…”

  He walked away.

  “Harlan, I’m sorry,” she called after him.

  Not as damn sorry as he was. Damn, he needed a real drink.

  Five

  “Whoa, slow down there, cowgirl,” teased Heather as Temp took a slug of another beer. “You know you’re a lightweight. I don’t want a repeat of the plum cake incident.”

  Temp tapped her fingers against the bottle. “I think getting drunk sounds like a mighty fine idea right now, and plum cake actually has a lot of alcohol in it.”