“Nick?” What in the world? She thought he was sick. How did he get into this crazy place of dreams and Christmas?
Nick took the reins. “Prancer—it’s up to you, old boy.”
Don’t call me old,Prancer snorted.
Micah lay on the floor of the sleigh, half his body hanging out the side. They circled around and then dipped. Charlotte climbed on the fireplace and jumped for Micah’s hand. They grasped onto one another.
Nick pulled up, and the sleigh rose in the air. Charlotte looked over her shoulder at Santa. He winked before turning into a pile of glitter and being swept up in the tornado. Micah tried to pull her inside, but their hold was awkward.
“I’m slipping!” she yelled.
The sleigh suddenly dropped and then tipped, launching her over Micah’s head. He thought fast, yanking her to land on top of him in the sleigh. They tumbled together in a heap, with her head on Micah’s wonderful chest. She lay there, trying to catch her breath and loving his deep, woodsy scent. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she held fast.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he stroked her hair. “I’m sorry.” He kissed her head.
Charlotte leaned up so she could look at him.
“I love you, Charlotte. I want you in my life every day.”
She sniffed. “Even if I’m a deranged Christmas lover who decorates with pompoms?”
He laughed, bringing her to him again. “Especially if you’re a deranged Christmas lover who decorates with pompoms. How could I not love your pompoms?”
She laughed against him. “You don’t even know what a pom pom is, do you?”
“I don’t have to. Marry me?” he asked. “I know it’s ridiculous. I know! But it’s what I feel in my heart.”
The sleigh jostled, and they lifted and then slammed into one another with a grunt. They got to their knees; the question left unanswered and hanging between them like an empty stocking full of expectations.
“Dude!” Micah ground out at Nick.
“Sorry, lovebirds, but we’re in a bit of a pickle here.” Nick ducked as a red brick fireplace flew over his head.
“What do we do?” asked Charlotte.
“Can’t you magic us out of his?” Micah asked.
Nick snorted. “Dream magic isn’t my gift.”
“Can we wake up?” Charlotte pinched herself. She looked at Micah.
He held up his arm. “Go ahead.” She pinched him, and he flinched. “Ouch.”
She shrugged.
“Can we wish out?” Micah offered.
Nick shook his head, his mouth set in determination. “I’m out of wishes.”
“You can’t be out of wishes,” Charlotte argued. “You’re a Kringle.”
Nick jerked to the right, and the reindeer barely missed a lamppost. “You’re welcome!” he called to the animal. “Christmas Magic has a mind of its own, and it decided I can’t grant wishes anymore.” He gulped as if the news had caused him physical pain.
That explained why her wish had disappeared. And why Robyn and Hazel said he was sick.
“It’s getting worse.” Micah’s head turned as a trio of candy canes rushed past.
Charlotte thought about her time on Santa’s lap, about returning to being a child, and how simple it was back then. She thought about her house–the one on the corner she’d wrapped so much of her heart around.
