If she’d walked under the fairy lights with him, he would have traded turns naming something they should do together. He did that often. “You want ice cream this time? Okay, but next time we’re getting eclairs,” he’d tell her as they walked home from the swimming pool. “Then you can pick after that.”
She didn’t realize what an excellent quality that was until tonight.
“Why couldn’t it have been Jacob?” she whispered into the night, hoping it would scare off the ghost of a past love that had haunted her since coming to Moose Hollow. She was wearing Foster’s ring. Thoughts of another man were not acceptable. If only Jacob were that easy to forget.
CHAPTER8
Jacob sat up in bed, his hair sticking out in all directions. He hurriedly patted it down. He could always tell when his hair was poking up because it felt strange.
Although that wasn’t the strangest thing he’d ever experienced.
The strangest was finding Santa sitting at the bottom of the bed. The shift in the mattress brought him out of a deep slumber. At least, he thought he was awake. He was staring at a man with a white beard and a red suit, so this might have been a dream. He tugged on his hair as he tried to flatten it. Ouch. Not a dream.
“Nice place.” Santa took in the room, which made Jacob look around too. There was a queen-sized bed, a matching dresser, and a gas fireplace. Jacob had a few photos he’d taken blown up and hung on the walls. He didn’t share his artistic side with the world, but this was his cottage home, and he liked these images.
“Wh-what do you want?” he stuttered as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Finding someone in his room would have had him swinging like an MMA fighter, but there was so much peace–and the scent of frankincense and pine hovering in the air. It all had a calming effect on him.
“Usually, that’s my question to ask.” Santa settled one ankle over the other knee and considered him. He lowered his voice and said, “What do you want for Christmas?”
Jacob leaned closer and squinted at him. “Nick? What are you, twenty-two years old?”
Nick sighed heavily. “Twenty-four.” He pulled off his hat and then removed the beard. With a sour face, he set them on Jacob’s bed and scrubbed his hands through his hair, then across his cheeks and down his neck. “The beard itches like you wouldn’t believe.”
Jacob leaned back against the headboard. “No offense, man, but you are in the wrong house. Had a little too much eggnog tonight?” He glanced at the bedroom door and found it shut.
Nick smiled softly. “There’s never enough eggnog where I come from, though we don’t spike it because of the little ones.”
Jacob nodded solemnly. “Right, the elves.”
Nick chuckled at his joke. “I’m here because there’s been a slight glitch in the program.”
Poof!
A woman in cargo pants and a red shirt appeared by the fireplace. Her red hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun held in place by several pencils. She had a laptop resting on one arm and typed furiously with the other hand. Her glasses slid down her nose, and she paused just long enough to shove them back in place. “Glitches don’t happen on my watch–this one’s on you, Nick.”
Nick folded his arms. “Lux, it’s on you. My magic doesn’t make mistakes.”
She shook her head. “Look.” Flipping the computer around so they could see the screen, the light glared at Jacob and Nick. Jacob shielded his face while his eyes adjusted. She went on as if she hadn’t blinded him. “You granted two Christmas wishes–not one. It’s thrown Christmas Magic off.”
“They wished for the same thing,” Nick defended himself. “One wish–two people.”
“Whoa.” Jacob threw the blankets aside and put his bare feet on the hardwood floor. His toes curled when they came into contact with the cold surface. “What are you two talking about?” He glanced back and forth between them. “What wish?”
Nick lifted an eyebrow. “You’re Christmas wish. You wanted a second chance with the girl next door. Remember her? Lauren?”
“Yeah, I remember her.” Jacob’s head spun as if he were going down Potter’s Hill on a tube with no way to stop. It would take more than a tug on his hair to prove this wasn’t a dream. “Are you… Are you telling me… that you…” He gulped. “You can grant wishes?”
Nick scrubbed at his cheek with his knuckles. “Well… I mean… yeah… b–.”
Jacob grabbed Nick’s arm and held on tight. “I wish for a million dollars. I wish for a Lamborghini–no, a Ferrari. I wish for–”
Nick shook off his hold and scowled.
“He’s not a genie,” said Lux as she tucked a piece of her wild, curly hair behind her ear. How did a person walk around with all that hanging on their head? “He’s a Kringle. A newly frosted one at that.” She pointed to Nick’s forearm.
With a sigh, Nick pushed up the fur-lined sleeve to reveal a sparkling star tattoo. Only this was more intricate than any basic star he’d ever drawn. It shimmered like the old silver tinsel his grandma used to use on the tree–the kind that lifted off the branches when anything remotely charged with static electricity walked by. The way it glistened in the light was unreal. He’d never seen a tattoo do that before.
“This isn’t my first sleigh ride,” Nick protested Lux’s claim that he was a newbie as he dropped his sleeve back in place.
