by Leyla Hunt
Nico looked down, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Yes, I’ve got some errands in town. But before all that, I’ve got to shovel my driveway and all that.”
I wanted him to stay, but didn’t think it was my place to pressure him. It was too soon to be in his face all the time, and I knew he’d come around eventually. Besides, I wasn’t sure whether this would be something serious or if we were keeping it casual. All I knew was that it was fun, and I liked him a lot. That would do for now.
“All right. But you’ve got to tell me—when am I seeing you again?”
He smiled. “I’m not really a planner. Let’s play it by ear.”
“Fine, but don’t torture me. Don’t keep me waiting.” I kissed him fiercely. My shaft stiffened and I had to silence the moan at the back of my throat. It took all my willpower not to pick him up and throw him back on the bed. A little morning treat would’ve been the best way to start the day, but there was plenty of time for that in the days to come. Or at least, that’s what I hoped.
“Your kisses are sweet. And tempting. But I’ve got to run.” He smiled and ran his hand down my chest.
“Fine, go ahead. I’ll just have to pine after you from afar.” I sat on the couch in all my naked glory, my hard cock not getting the message that it was time to settle down.
Nico cast a glance at my erection and raised a brow. “I’ll be seeing you both again soon.”
I reluctantly walked him to the front door and cursed under my breath when I caught sight of the driveway.
“For fuck’s sake. Look at all the snow.”
“Oh la la.” Nico giggled. “I should get a sleigh!”
We stood on the porch—Nico all bundled up, his cheeks pink, and me in my robe, hoping none of the neighbors saw me like this.
“Good idea. We’ll be having a lot of snow this winter,” I muttered.
“Oh—is that what the forecast says?”
“No, that’s what my elders say. Our wolf elders have their ways of knowing. Both my mom and grandparents all claim it’ll be a tough one, but we’ll make it through, like we always do.”
Nico tilted his head. “And are you going to learn their ways?”
“Of course. As alpha, I should probably already know. In fact, I plan to go on a retreat with them in January.”
“What sort of retreat?”
I grinned. As much as he claimed he had errands to attend to, Nico seemed more interested in chatting.
“Every few years, the elder healer of the pack calls a retreat.” I lowered my voice. We generally didn’t talk about pack matters to outsiders. But Nico was different. “We shift into our wolves and go into the wilderness for two weeks. It gives us a chance to reconnect with nature and each other, and for the young ones to learn our wolf ways.”
Nico looked transfixed. “That sounds really special. I love the way you all stick together.”
“Guess you cats aren’t like that.”
He shook his head. “No, we’re pretty solitary. We’re close with our families and friends, but nothing like what you’re describing.” He looked out into the deserted street. “Well, I’d better get going.”
I offered to walk him back to the bar where he’d left his car, but he wouldn’t hear of it, telling me he needed some alone time, which I understood. He was a cat, after all, and frankly, it looked like a beautiful winter morning to go for a walk.
“Ma, you don’t understand. I don’t want to sell, but it’s looking more and more like that’s what I’ll have to do. It sucks, but that’s reality.”
My mom shrugged and took her mug of tea to the kitchen table, where she sat down with a huff. After Nico had left my house, I’d gone back to sleep for a while and later had ended up at my mom’s for a late breakfast.
“Son,” she began in a stern voice, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “Every business goes through hard times. The bar will, too, but we’ll get through it. Don’t throw in the towel just yet. Let’s put on our thinking caps and come up with some solutions. What about the menu? Does it need some rejigging? Or maybe we should install some pool tables? What do you think? Well? Well?”
I leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip of tea. “I have to think about things, you know? It’s not the sort of place people will go to play pool. It’s too loud.”
“Don’t be silly. Back in my day, there were clubs with pool tables. It was the best. You had the dance floor with DJ in the front, close to the bar and, past a small partition, there were pool tables. You charge by the hour for the table and that’s that.”
We discussed her ideas over tea but changed course for breakfast.
“I’m heading to the Christmas market later. Do you want to come?” she asked.
Going to the Christmas market had been a family tradition for as long as I could remember, and I’d never missed a year, even after Dad and Jack passed away. In fact, I normally made several visits each season. But tonight was a no-go.
“No, Ma, I can’t. I’ve got to be at the bar.”
She nodded. “I see. Well, guess it’ll just be me and the girls tonight, then.”
I smiled. “I’ll go with you soon, I promise.”
“They’ll have the Festival of Fire tomorrow. Maybe we can go see that.”
The lights and fireworks show was a special treat in Vale Valley. In the past, it had been put on every Saturday while the Christmas market was open. It had been cancelled a few years ago due to a tragic fire, but was reborn last Christmas thanks to a very resourceful and determined resident.
“Sure, Mom.”
Who said old traditions had to die?
“Hey, buddy. How about a beer?”
I looked up and chuckled, slapping the hand my friend Mike offered me. He made it a point to visit me at work every Friday night, and today was no different.
“Where’s Sam?” I asked, referring to Mike’s omega mate, who was a real hoot. The jokes never stopped with that guy. He kept them coming all night long.
“The grandparents are all busy tonight, so we had no child care. But that’s fine, we’re allowed to have fun on our own once in a while, aren’t we?
“Sure, why not?”
Mike was an alpha bear and had the sort of relationship the rest of us envied. They always had each other’s backs, their disagreements were always handled stress-free and mostly behind closed doors, and Sam was just a really cool guy. It didn’t hurt that they had beautiful twin boys. I sometimes wondered whether I’d ever be mated, but then I’d get distracted by a shiny new omega in heat and all thoughts of settling down would go out the window.
“So, what’ll it be?” I asked.
“I’ll have a Bud. Hey, I’ve heard a rumor but didn’t want to put much stock in it until I spoke to you.”
I slid him his beer and he took a swig.
“Oh, yeah? What have you heard?”
“Word is that old man Johnson wants to buy the bar.”
“What?” Patrick Johnson owned a restaurant across town, but not much else was known about him. He was the patriarch of a large family of raccoon shifters. He appeared friendly, but always held his cards close to his chest.
“Yeah. Has he approached you?”
“Not yet.” My heart thumped. Even though I’d told my mother I may have to sell, I’d never seriously considered the possibility. I’d always thought of it in the abstract, like something that may or may not happen sometime far off in the future. This new bit of information threw me for a tailspin.
“Would you consider it?”
I frowned. If it was anyone other than Mike asking, I might’ve been suspicious. But I trusted him like a brother.
“I don’t know. I’m not ready to give up. I feel like I can turn this place around. I have to. I owe it to my father.” I poured myself half a pint. “Bottom’s up, Mike!”
Nico
I took a deep breath and pushed the hospital door. It opened with a creak. The room was bleak and clinical, as you’d expect. My gaze flew to
the bed on the right side of the room. There he was. He looked so tiny in his bed, I just wanted to scoop him up.
His round cheeks were red, his eyes shut tightly. He must have been sleeping. I didn’t want to wake him, so I placed the stuffed reindeer that I’d brought close to his right hand. I stood and stared for a while, wondering about him.
Who was he? What was he doing on that road so early in the morning when there were no houses for miles? What would happen to him now?
I sat down on the chair next to his bed and put my phone on silent. The last thing I wanted to do was wake a recovering child.
Sitting there brought a memory to mind. It was me, a little older than this boy, lying in the hospital bed, my body tired and sick. I’d been prone to bouts of bronchitis that would leave me hacking and gasping for air. Next to me would be my mother—my devoted, loving mother. How she’d suffered through my illnesses. She’d always kept a strong front so as not to scare me, but she must have been terrified. Hell, I was terrified for this kid, and I didn’t even know him!
Back in those days, my mother had brought me my favorite foods, because I’d complained loud and clear about the hospital’s offerings. She’d bring that spoon to my mouth a thousand times a day, if she had to.
My eyes welled with tears as I remembered the last time I saw her in person. It was at the airport, of course, just before my plane took off. She’d asked me one last time whether I was really leaving, and all I could do was nod. I told her I loved her and that I’d visit. I still remembered the look in her eyes vividly. It was a mix of defeat, fear, and anxiety. My dad was upset as well, but it had been the look in her eyes that had made the biggest impression on me.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the boy stir.
“Hello?”
His voice was weak and high—he sounded truly exhausted, as if it took every ounce of his energy to speak that word.
“Hi,” I said, getting to my feet quickly. My heart raced. He woke up and I could finally meet the little guy under more normal circumstances! He was adorable, with big, clear blue eyes and soft, pink lips. “How are you? Is everything okay?”
His gaze landed on me. “It’s you. You came?”
I nodded. “Of course, I came. Did you think I’d just leave you here without a soul in the world?” I was surprised he remembered me, given that we’d met under very stressful conditions.
The boy shrugged and looked down.
I wanted to gather him in my arms and smother him with kisses, but for goodness’ sake, I didn’t even know this child!
“Who are you?” I asked him.
He sniffled. Damn, I hoped I didn’t upset him.
“My name’s Lupo.”
“Lupo? Nice to properly meet you, Lupo. And do you have any parents I could call?” I waited with bated breath. I’d hoped they were locals, but I realized they would have reported their missing kid by now and we would have heard about it on the news.
“My parents are dead. It’s just me.” He sighed.
His words drove a spear through my heart. I put my hand on top of his and squeezed.
“I’m sorry, Lupo.” I let out a sigh. What could be said in this situation? I picked up the stuffed reindeer I’d brought him and waved it in front of him. “Check this out.”
A smile brightened his little face. “Is this mine?” He looked up at me full of hope.
“Oui. Sure is.”
“Thanks. Do you know how long I’ll be in here?”
“It’s up to the doctors, sweetie. You’re going to be better before you know it. I promise. You’ll still have to go to some appointments, but they’ll make you strong again. Don’t worry.”
Slowly, he said, “Where will I go?”
“Well, where were you living before?” I was waiting to hear that he’d lived in a foster home or a group home or something like that.
“There was this little house off of that road, behind the trees. In there.”
I frowned. “With whom?”
“By myself,” he said so quietly I that I had to strain to hear him.
Jesus. “But it’s cold, buddy. You don’t want to live there, right? Do you go to school?”
He shook his head and looked at the reindeer in his hands. Poor guy was ashamed of his circumstances, and again, the urge to protect and help him overwhelmed me.
“We’ll figure out something. Heck, if you want to, you can come live with me!” Of course, I had no idea what caring for a six-year-old entailed, but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He could talk, walk, and probably go to the bathroom by himself. What could go wrong?
“With you? That would be neat.” He looked down and then back up at me, his eyes doubtful. “Are you nice?”
I laughed and leaned forward. “I think so.”
“Do you have ice cream?”
I winked. “What’s your favorite flavor?”
Back at home, I headed straight to my workshop at the back of the first floor. It was time to work on a new scent for the season! I’d been asked to participate in the Christmas market as a vendor and I wanted to have something new and exciting to offer. Soft holiday music streamed from my laptop as I sat down at my table. This was going to be a unisex scent called Scent of Christmas.
I’d had the idea for a Christmas scent for years now, and had actually started working on it the previous year, so I opened my notebook to where I’d left off and began reading. Once I was caught up, I got to work trying different combinations of essential oils with alcohol and water. Time passed as I took whiff after whiff and noted my observations. Normally, it would take many months to develop a new scent, but I’d already done a lot of the work, and I worked well under pressure.
Several hours later, I sighed and closed the notebook. I loved what I did, but even in a well-ventilated room, the aromas took their toll. I left the window open and went to the kitchen. A small snack and some tea could help to clear the slight headache I’d developed.
I couldn’t help but wonder what Will was up to. I’d given him my number, of course, but I hadn’t heard from him yet. I slapped my forehead. For fuck’s sake—it’s only been eight hours since I’ve seen him. Why was I itching to hear from him already? We’d had a fun time, but there was no reason to think it meant anything. To him, at least. I smeared a chunk of brie on my toast and took a bite.
My stall at the Christmas market wouldn’t be ready until the following weekend. However, I was a sucker for those markets, having visited many of the most popular ones in Europe over the years. I couldn’t possibly wait until next weekend to see the place! I grabbed my phone and searched for the website. There it was! The site mentioned fireworks on Saturday, which was the following day. Perfect. I could relax at home, maybe call a friend over, and head to the market the next day.
Will
“Where shall we start?” asked Mom as we strolled by the vendors lining a walkway at the Christmas market.
Holiday cheer was in the air, with Christmas music blaring through speakers and the scent of chocolate wafting to our nostrils.
“How about the raclette stand? I remember Ren raving about it last year.”
“What’s that?” Mom was puzzled, judging by her drawn brows.
“Stinky French cheese, melted over potato wedges,” I quipped. My stomach growled with hunger. I’d been on edge all day and had practically forgotten to eat.
“Sure, sounds good. Just how stinky?”
We could smell it already, and followed our noses.
“Very. But it tastes better than it smells, don’t worry.”
“All right, let’s find it.”
We devoured our raclette and went back for seconds. The cool outdoors did a number on my appetite, so I was far from full. We washed it down with a glass each of Glogg, a special Swedish mulled wine.
“Oh, that’s heavenly. You should try this at the bar for the season.” My mom took a second glass.
“Good idea.”
I gazed at the amazingly tall Chris
tmas tree, decked out with what seemed like thousands of tiny blinking lights.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Memories of Christmases past came rushing back—of me, Jack, and our dad decorating our own tree. It was an annual tradition—always on the first of December, like clockwork. The first Christmas they weren’t around was horrific. Traumatic, really. It had taken a few years for things to go back to almost normal. My mom took over my dad’s role in decorating, and was joined by my grandpa and grandma as well.
“It sure is beautiful,” said Mom. “When will the fireworks start?”
“I have no idea, but we can ask someone. I’m sure it won’t be too late.”
I found myself subconsciously looking around, as if searching for someone. I couldn’t lie to myself even if I wanted to. I needed to see Nico. I’d become preoccupied with him since the moment he’d left my house this morning.
I hadn’t called him yet, because I didn’t want to look overbearing. After all, I’d already given him a scare when I saw him getting ready to leave.
“Isn’t that your friend Ren?”
I turned my head in the direction she was pointing at, and spotted my buddy at the booth for his crêperie, Sweet Bites. We headed over there.
He and Arlo, one of his employees, were busy showing some kids how to decorate cookies. As if sensing my presence, Ren looked up right away. He was a reindeer, after all, so he must have a special knack for spotting predators.
“Hey, Ren, are you doing the market again? Nice booth you’ve got here.”
Ren chuckled. “You know I wouldn’t miss anything Christmas related! I’m going to be here every year until the end of time, serving up the best crepes and hot chocolate Vale Valley has ever seen.”
I laughed. Ren was known for being a bit of a Christmas freak. Actually, he loved every single holiday, but Christmas held a special place in his heart and his dessert shop was proof of it. It was like something out of a magazine—fully but tastefully decorated.
“Of course, you will,” I told him. I admired the pretty sugar cookies the kids were eagerly decorating.
