He stands, grabs his coat from the rack, and tosses one to me without answering. But the corner of his mouth curves, just barely.
I grin, bundling up. "That's what I thought."
“Little girl, don’t play with fire unless you want to get burned.” He stares me down for a good long second. I refuse to look away. Finally, he says, “we should check on the reindeer and the rest of the animals. I know the crew would have put them away in the barn and made sure they had provisions for the storm, but it would be good just to make sure they are safe.”
We make our way to the reindeer barn, our boots crunching through fresh snow. The barn is warm when we step inside, smelling of hay and animals and something sweet I can't quite place.
"There you are," I coo to Blitzen, who immediately pokes his nose over the stall door. "Did you miss me?"
"You talk to them like they're people," Justin observes, but there's no judgment in his tone. He's already moving downthe line, checking water buckets, running his hands over each reindeer with careful attention.
"They are people. Reindeer people." I watch him work.I wish he’d touch me the way he’s stroking the reindeer.I shake the intrusive thought out of my head. I notice the way his shoulders relax around the animals. He’s patiently waiting for Dasher to take the food out of his hand. "You're good with them."
"My grandfather taught me." He scratches behind Dasher's ears, his whole face softening. "I practically grew up in this barn."
"Tell me a story about what it was like growing up here."
He glances at me, and for a moment I think he'll deflect. Then his mouth curves. "My sister Emma, she was maybe five, decided she was bored and decided to give all the reindeer makeovers."
"Oh no."
"Oh yes. She grabbed my mother's makeup bag and went to town. Prancer ended up with blue eyeshadow and lipstick. Dancer got rouge. Blitzen’s grandfather," he pats the reindeer's neck, "got the full treatment. Mascara, everything. I couldn’t believe how still they stood for her or the amount of makeup she used.”
I laugh, trying to picture Justin dealing with a glammed-up reindeer. "What did you do?"
"Panicked. I was twelve and supposed to be watching her. My dad was going to kill me." He's grinning now, lost in the memory. "So, I spent two hours with baby wipes trying to clean them off before anyone noticed. Kept bribing Emma with candy to keep quiet."
"Did it work?"
"For about three days. Then she told everyone at dinner about her 'pretty reindeer salon.'" He shakes his head. "My dadlaughed so hard he cried. My mom was less amused about her missing Chanel."
I move closer, watching him check Blitzen's hooves with practiced ease. "You really love this place."
"I do." He straightens, meets my eyes. "I forget that sometimes. But it's in my bones."
Suddenly, Blitzen sneezes. A huge, wet, spectacular sneeze hits Justin square in the face.
He freezes. Blinks. Wipes reindeer snot from his cheek with the back of his hand.
I clap my hand over my mouth, trying desperately not to laugh.
"Don't," he warns.
"I'm not—" I can't hold it in. Laughter bursts out of me, doubling me over. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! But your face?—"
"This is karma," he mutters, but his mouth is twitching. "For laughing at Emma all those years."
"Here." I hand him a clean towel from the supply shelf, still giggling. "At least Blitzen likes you."
"Blitzen is going on the naughty list." The reindeer snorts, unrepentant, and nudges Justin's shoulder as if asking for more attention.
Despite the reindeer snot, Justin scratches behind Blitzen's ears again. I follow him through the barn, watching as he methodically checks each stall, refills water where needed, tosses in extra hay. His movements are sure and confident but also, somewhat gentle. This is a side of him I haven't seen yet. Not the boss, just a man who cares deeply about creatures who depend on him.
"You're staring," he says without looking up.
"You're worth staring at."
He glances over, and the look he gives me makes my stomach flip. "Careful, little girl. Flattery will get you everywhere."
