“You’re going to make this the best Christmas they’ve ever had and in January, the family will plant you outside.That will be your forever home.” Tears slid over his cheeks as he said his goodbyes.
“I’m going to miss her.” My mate put an arm around my waist and leaned his head on my shoulder. “I hate goodbyes.”
“She'll always be a part of their family traditions.” I loved that he sold trees, both potted and B&B, so all his hard work didn’t end up in the trash or used as firewood after the holidays.
“But along with goodbyes, there are hellos.” His face brightened. “And next Christmas, we’ll be celebrating with our little one.”
I was part of a found family in the pack but I also looked forward to sharing the magic of Christmas next December with our immediate family. Despite being surrounded by adults admiring trees, haggling aboutprices, and children roaring up the rows and squealing when they found just the right tree, I smooched my mate. I even considered sticking my tongue down his throat as he pressed against me. But a child brushed past us and I pecked Reed’s lips instead.
“Roscoe!” Erik's loud voice carried across the tree tops. “Can you give us a hand?”
He was struggling with a particularly large Douglas Fir that a customer had requested. “Coming!” I pinched Reed’s butt, saying I’d see him later.
Over the next few days me, Reed, and the pack, including the kids, spent hours on our feet selling skincare products, hot chocolate, Christmas cookies, and trees. While my mate knew every tree on the lot and was acquainted with their quirks, as reindeer shifters we let the trees whisper their preference so we could find thecustomers their perfect trees.
Zelda charmed the adults into buying gift sets, while Erik entertained a crowd of kids with stories about reindeers and Santa. The pack teens were natural salespeople and described the characteristics of each tree to help customers purchase the one right for them.
But it was my mate I was most impressed with. Despite his nausea, he rattled off every tree by name and he told the customers which ones would hold their needles longest or smell the strongest. He listened tofamilies describe their living rooms and traditions and guided them to trees that would fit into their lives.
“That one's Chantel,” he told an elderly couple examining a Noble Fir. “She's got beautiful symmetry, and she's been waiting all season for someone who would really appreciate her elegance.”
The couple bought Chantel without any further questions.
“How does he do that?” Zelda appeared beside me with a cup of hot chocolate. “I’ve watched him sell more trees in one afternoon than most lots sell in a week.”
“He loves them,” I told her. “And people can feel that.”
“Like how you love him,” she observed. “And how much happier you've been since you stopped fighting it."
I didn’t respond because my mate was standing near the Fraser Fir section, one hand pressed to his mouth and the other gripping a tree trunk for support.
I was at his side in seconds. “Reed?”
“Just a wave of nausea.” He put a hand to his mouth. “I need?—”
He didn't finish the sentence before he was rushing toward the office bathroom with me at his side.I stayed with him and when he finished throwing up, I wiped his face with a cloth and handed himmouthwash. I folded a towel under his butt as the tiles were so cold and we sat on the floor with me rubbing his back.
“I have to get back out there,” he mumbled against my shoulder. “I have customers.”
“The pack can handle them.” I wasn’t accepting any argument from him. “I’m putting you to bed.”
“Roscoe, no.”
“Sorry, my love.” The trees were his life but he had help from the pack members. I helped him to his feet, noting his pale cheeks. “I tell you what. If anyone buys one of your favorite trees like Doug, I’ll have them message you. We can either video the exchange or you can stand at the window and wave.”
“I should be there,” he protested.
“And we've already sold more trees than you usually sell in a weekend,” I pointed out. “The pack's skincare booth has been busy all day, and people are having fun. Everyone is happy and it’s thanks to you. Now, take a bow and retreat.”
As we strolled toward the farmhouse, laughter, conversation, and the rumble of car engines formed a backdrop to families finding their perfect trees. But more important than the sales and the excitement was the man beside me, my mate, who I loved more than life itself, and who was carrying our child. Despite the all day sickness and tiredness, he was humming a Christmas carol.
“Not the reindeer one, love.”
“You never did explain why that song affects you so much.” He snuggled into me.
“It’s two-fold.” Or three-fold. “First, my beast gets excited and sees ‘red’ when he hears it and the second reason was you and your enticing scent. The combination was almost impossible to resist and...” I shrugged. “Antlers appeared.”
He giggled and told me whenever he was annoyed and wanted me to disappear, he’d hum that carol and spend the day with my reindeer.
