“And the nibbling part? Please tell me they don’t nibble onchildren’s toes.” I shuddered at the thought of a giant furry creature making a snack of my pinky toes.
“When they eat, they nibble.” Dash broke apart a blueberry muffin. “If you’re curious about them, ask Rudy. He’s the only one of us who’s ever seen one.”
My brain stuttered to a halt. “Wait. Why would Rudy have seen one?”
Dane’s coffee mug froze halfway to his lips. His eyes darted to Dash with an unmistakableoh shitlook.
Dash cleared his throat and stood abruptly. “Donut? You should try the red velvet.”
“You just said they leave blankets for people who need comfort.” I planted my elbows on the table, leaning forward. “What happened to Rudy?”
Dane pushed back from the table, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “So about those Christmas spirit restoration activities! We have a whole itinerary.”
“I’m not moving until you?—”
A sharp knock at the front door startled us all.
“Perfect timing!” Dane practically bolted for the door, relief washing over his features.
I shot Dash a look, waiting for him to explain.
“Just some light festivities.” Dash’s poker face was excellent. Too excellent.
Twenty minutes later, I stared in horror at my transformed living room. The knock on the door had been from a delivery service that had set up folding tables. Every surface was covered with baking trays full of gingerbread cookies. Piping bags of frosting were arranged between sprinkle containers, candy bits, and an absurd amount of edible glitter.
I should never have left the two men unattended while I went to get ready for the day.
“What the hell happened in here?” My voice came out higher than intended.
“Christmas magic.” Dane gave me a slow, dramatic blink that said, “You’re welcome,” as he tied an apron around hiswaist.Sleigh My Name, Sleigh My Namewas written across the chest.
Dash held out an apron toward me. “You might want this. Things are about to get messy.”
“I don’t do messy.” I took a step back, eyeing the chaos. “And I definitely don’t do gingerbread.”
“Today you do.” Dash stepped forward, the apron still extended. “Just try. For an hour.”
“Think of it as exposure therapy.” Dane was already squeezing green frosting onto a cookie with concerning enthusiasm.
I snatched the apron from Dash’s hand. “One hour. Then you both leave.”
“Sure, princess.” Dane didn’t even look up as he gave his gingerbread man obscene biceps.
I tied the apron with sharp, angry movements. “And stop calling me…” My words failed me as I glanced down at the text on my chest:Sleigh Queen.
It felt like a tug of war was going on inside my brain, trying to decide whether or not to let me claim the nickname. It felt right, but at the same time, it made me want to kick Dash and Dane out.
“Decorate a few. That’s all.” Dash guided me with his hand on the small of my back to the seat between them. It pulled me away from whatever mental battle was about to pull me under.
“Fine.” I reached for the white frosting, determined to get through this with minimal participation.
Dane held up his creation: a gingerbread monstrosity with a frosting six-pack and what appeared to be green sprinkle chest hair. “This is me in my peak December form.”
“Horrifying.” I couldn’t stop the slight smile tugging at my lips.
Dash worked with methodical precision on his cookie. “I’m making you.” His eyes flicked up to my face, then back down as he added two dots of blue frosting.
“That looks nothing like me.”
