Charlotte rolled her eyes at herself. He hadn’t meant anything by touching her, yet she’d acted like she’d been stranded on an iceberg for the last ten years and didn’t know how to respond like a normal person.
And her family wondered why she was still single.
She closed the door and leaned against it, surveying the clean countertop and freshly swept floor. Micah must have done that–because she certainly didn’t.
Poof!
Nick sniffed the air. “Cookies?” He stood by her small fireplace that didn’t work. He wore a black sweater with the image of a flying sleigh and reindeer on the front.
A woman in an apron punched him in the shoulder. “We’re not here for cookies.”
“You’re not,” he quipped.
“I make six dozen daily for the elves–feel free to stop by.” She grinned, knowing she’d gotten him on that point. Her eyes drifted to the half-dozen cookies left on the counter. “Ooh, sprinkles in the batter? Maybe we should try one….” She drifted in that direction as if she couldn’t help herself.
Charlotte pointed to the tray. “Help yourself.” Following them to the kitchen, she pulled out two glasses and filled them with milk.
Nick snatched a cookie and took a large bite. He gave her a thumbs up. “This is Robyn. She’s my sister and sister-in-law.”
Charlotte slid it across the counter like a bartender in a spaghetti western. Nick snatched it up and drank deeply. “Sounds like there’s a story there. Either that or your family tree needs to be straightened out.”
Robyn took the bar stool Lizzie had occupied. “I married his brother, and then my parents adopted him.” She examined her cookie from all angles. Then she broke a piece off. “Not too many crumbs. Nice texture…” She took a regular-sized bite and closed her eyes as if needing to block out sight so she could focus on the taste. “The sprinkles give it some crunch.” She opened her eyes and smiled. “Good job.”
Charlotte felt like she’d won the Pillsbury bake-off. Lizzie would love to know the cookies were Kringle approved. “Thanks!”
She sipped her milk. “I thought they’d never leave.”
“How long have you been waiting?” Charlotte checked the clock: 9:00 p.m. It wasn’t that late, but it had been dark for hours.
“Fifteen minutes–Prancer was anxious to leave the stables.” Robyn shook her head. “Why I ever let you talk me into bringing him is beyond me.”
Nick put his arm around her. “Because I’m your favorite–don’t try to deny it.”
She softened her posture and poked him in the side. “Lucky for you, Kringles can’t lie.” The look she gave him was so full of big sister love that it made Charlotte miss her siblings.
Since her first visit with Santa at seven years old, Charlotte had collected information about him and his family in a notebook and built a family tree. This little visit already provided a wealth of knowledge to add. Last year’s Christmas wedding filled the holes as the Kringle Family arrived en masse to help Nick fix his wish mix-ups.
Wait— Was there a problem with her wish? Her blood ran cold. No. No. No. All she’d ever wanted was the house on the corner. Every year of her life, since she could remember anyway, she’d wanted that house. Perhaps it was a lot to ask for a whole house, but considering it was twenty-plus years of wishes, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. Once upon a time, she’d decided that building up the wishes was like putting the wish power in the bank. When she had enough to make the withdrawal, the house would be hers. This was supposed to be that year.
She side-eyed Nick, who was on his third cookie. “You got my text?”
Nick gulped loudly. He slowly lowered the half-eaten cookie to the plate. “There’s been a development. I didn’t tell you before because I wasn’t sure it would be a problem. But then I got your text and flew right down.”
Charlotte folded her arms. “By development, I hope you mean you’ll grant my wish early, and I can start decorating.”
Robyn clicked her tongue. “As if.” She tucked her hands into the pockets of her apron. “Nick has a penchant for creating conundrums.”
Nick frowned. “You make it sound like I do this on purpose.”
Robyn narrowed her eyes. “If you know the medicine will help–and you don’t take it–the illness is on you.”
Nick pouted. “That’s harsh.”
Robyn lifted a shoulder. “I could have Frost look through the archives. She has letters from her…” she trailed off.
Nick furiously shook his head.
“Can we get back to my wish?” Charlotte interrupted. As interested as she was in all things Christmas, Kringle, etc., she was concerned that whatever was wrong had warranted a flight down here–especially since Lux didn’t come. Lux has been here for the last two years. “Where’s Lux?” she asked outright.
