The corner of Don’s mouth twitched. “Your dad knows what he’s doing.”
“By playing with toys a week before the biggest delivery night of the year?”
Dad flicked his wrist, and a void creature flew through the air. “I’m absorbing joy. It’s like a preflight fuel-up.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re a grown man playing with action figures.”
“Precisely!” He made explosion noises with his mouth as he crashed two figurines together.
An elf approached with a clipboard, nodding approvingly. “Excellent destruction sounds, sir. Very realistic.”
“Thank you, Pepper. I’ve been working on my explosion repertoire.” Dad demonstrated three variations of kaboom noises, each more ridiculous than the last.
Before I could form a response, Kip grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a table covered with board games. “You’re with me first. We’re assessing strategy and fun factors.”
“I have actual work?—”
“Thisisthe work,” Kip insisted, opening a box labeledEnchanted Forest Explorer. The game board unfolded to reveal a 3D pop-up forest that actually grew tiny leaves when exposed to air.
I blinked. “Okay, that’s pretty cool.”
Kip grinned triumphantly. “Round one of sixteen begins now.”
“Sixteen rounds?!”
An hour later, I was deeply invested in what felt like ourfourteenth game, a version of Scrabble where points were lost if you took too long on your turn.
“That’s not a word!” I pointed accusingly at Kip’s tiles.
“Zorlflank is absolutely a word.” Kip’s face remained angelically innocent. “It’s what you call the left antler point when it’s frosty.”
“Cheater.” I threw a game piece at him, which he caught easily.
Across the room, Blitz had transformed what was supposed to be a simple dollhouse review into a full theatrical production. He’d donned a tiny apron and was speaking in a high-pitched voice while manipulating a plastic mom doll.
“Harold, I told you not to bring your moose friends inside after they’ve been rolling in the mud!” Blitz moved the dad doll back and forth with his other hand. “But Petunia, they promised to wipe their hooves!”
A small crowd of elves had gathered, doubled over with laughter. Even Don, who’d been solving complex puzzle toys in the corner, was watching with a smile.
I stifled a laugh, but Kip caught me. “Is that joy I detect, Ms. North?”
“Shut up and play your made-up words,” I muttered, but I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.
After Kip thoroughly trounced me at every board game in existence, Dane led me to the electronics section. “I need to assess durability.” He proceeded to fly a remote-controlled dragon directly into a wall.
“Nothing says quality control like blunt force trauma.”
Dane picked up the slightly dented dragon. “We have to replicate real-world conditions.” He reset the controls and aimed the dragon at a different wall.
Watching these grown men take toy testing so seriously was both ridiculous and... weirdly charming. Even Don, who approached his station with the focus of a brain surgeon, occasionally made tiny sounds of satisfaction when a puzzle piece clicked into place.
I didn’t notice when Don slipped away, but he returnedwith a plate of cookies and hot chocolate, sliding it my way with a warm look that sent butterflies through my stomach. “Fuel for the final round.”
Blitz practically skipped over to us, still wearing the apron. “Racing time!”
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor, racing remote-controlled cars against Blitz, Kip, and Dane, while Don called out the play-by-play in a perfect sports announcer voice. Our cars crashed repeatedly, often spectacularly, and each collision sent me into fits of laughter that made my sides ache.
When Kip’s car did a perfect flip over Dane’s and landed upside down, I laughed so hard I snorted, and the feeling exploded outward from my chest.
