17. Wink

17

Wink

I could bake, wrap even the most awkwardly shaped present, drive a sleigh, tame a wild reindeer, and build nearly anything from a few pieces of wood, but I was no expert in pregnancies. At the North Pole, we had midwives for that kind of thing, but even as ignorant as I was, I at least knew that elf pregnancies tended to lean closer to the nine-month length that humans experienced. There were always exceptions, but this was… not the norm.

At least not for elves or humans, anyway. Shifters, however…

Within just two weeks it had become obvious to us that our baby was more raccoon than elf when Derek was standing in front of the mirror staring down at his belly. “Am I… showing?” he’d asked, turning sideways to accentuate the little belly he’d already developed.

His belly only grew from there—and fast . We managed to get him in to see a shifter midwife Ricky had introduced us to, and while he didn’t have any experience with elves specifically, he told us raccoons only gestated for two months, which meant we could be daddies before Christmas.

At first, Derek had tried wearing baggy clothes to hide his changing body. We’d been worried about what the townsfolk would say about his rapidly advancing pregnancy, but strangely, as his belly became impossible to hide, nobody said a peep. Maybe it was because they were smart enough not to comment on a pregnant man’s weight or maybe it was just because there were more shifters in town than he’d ever been aware of. Maybe magic. Either way, the locals seemed to be just as excited as we were. It was impossible to go anywhere in town without being stopped for well-wishes.

Derek moved through all the pregnancy symptoms with lightning speed, sometimes all in one day. He’d started with fatigue, then morning sickness hit like a tidal wave—for like three days—but before he’d even reached the halfway mark, he was back to being full of energy, his raging hormones making him horny as hell. And he was so overheated all the time, he was desperate for snow, but it seemed determined to hold off. If it went much longer, we might be in for a brown Christmas, instead of white.

And then there were Derek’s cravings…

We were walking hand in hand through the outdoor holiday market when I heard his tummy rumble. “Is baby hungry?” I asked.

“Baby’s always hungry,” he said, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. “It would help if I could eat more than a few bites at a time before I’m full, but I swear they’ve got a foot lodged in my stomach.”

“Well, we’re in the best place for a snack.” There were food stalls lining both sides of the aisle we were currently in, selling everything from spiced cider to pumpkin pie to whole roasted turkey legs cooked over a fire .

Derek turned a guilty expression up at me. “I’m sorry, Wink, but… I’m craving cocoa.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just because I don’t like it for me, that doesn’t mean you have to deprive yourself—or baby.” To think I’d once started a workshop brawl over that particular beverage.

I let him lead the way, dragging me by the hand through the stalls, with him using his shifter sense of smell to parse through the various aromas to pick the one that called to our growing kit. It was an impressive skill to watch in action. Sure enough, in under a minute we were standing next to a hot chocolate stall, where they sold to-go cups of the stuff, complete with toppings and various syrups to be added. Derek opted for a chocolate straw, peppermint syrup, and one massive sparkly marshmallow that nearly filled the cup, making it hard for him to drink around.

Even I could admit that it smelled tempting. Hell, maybe if he kissed me afterward, I might be convinced to change my mind about cocoa…

While he sipped, we browsed the artisan selection for gifts. We picked up some new kitchen gadgets for Fannie Mae, since she hadn’t been able to get over the new food processor that we’d given her for her birthday. Then we saw a carpenter who was selling handmade rocking horses, and we were lost from there, picking out toys for our baby.

We were loaded down with bags by the time we headed back toward the parking lot, but my eye caught a familiar face waiting in line to see Santa. “Is that your granny?” I asked, already turning in her direction.

Sure enough, Fannie Mae was waiting in line to see the big man himself, giddy as a schoolgirl. “Granny?” Derek asked as we pulled up alongside her. She wasn’t alone, either.

She blushed, seemingly embarrassed to be caught in the act. “Oh! Derek, Wink, this is Sedrick. He’s my… friend,” she said, clearing her throat, a rosy blush rising to her cheeks as she avoided meeting our eyes.

“I remember you,” Derek said, extending his hand to the ginger-haired senior. “From the… LARP meeting.” I choked on a laugh, remembering how he’d thought they could be furries—which I had absolutely googled—having a kinky tumble in the woods. “Good to see you again.” Derek’s nostrils flared, no doubt scenting the man’s beast, whatever it happened to be.

“You too,” he said, smiling wide, shaking my hand next. “I was glad to hear you took my advice about that gaze. I thought for sure they’d moved on. I suppose it’s safe to admit now that I’d always had a bit of a crush on one of them in particular, so you’ve really done me a service in enticing her back to town.” He beamed down at her standing at his side, and when she smiled adoringly back at him, it was everything.

Derek leaned into my side, and he was smiling just as widely as they were. This was the time of year when miracles happened, and I swore I could feel the telltale tingle of fate at work.

“Oh, looks like it’s almost our turn to see Santa,” Granny said as the line of children moved forward. “I know exactly what I’m going to ask for. Do you?” she asked Sedrick.

“I sure do,” he said, reaching for her hand.

My heart was so full of love, and not even the fact that they’d had to spray fake snow around the “North Pole” was going to dampen my spirits today. The Santa in question was not one of the real ones, but just a man in a stuffed suit wearing a fake beard. For all my anxiety about running into my old boss, I was surprised to find that I was oddly disappointed not to see him. I guess that meant I’d let go of any lingering anger over being fired. It probably had something to do with how blissfully happy I was. Except now, I couldn’t ask him if I’d done enough to be forgiven .

Derek squeezed my hand as we headed on our way. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just wondering what kind of shifter Sedrick was,” I said, lying smoothly.

Derek checked to see that we were out of hearing distance before he leaned in and whispered, “Tiger!”

I choked on my next breath. “Are you serious?” The man seemed so mild-mannered, not at all a dangerous predator. “And your granny knows?”

“I’m sure she does. That might even be part of the appeal.” He waggled his eyebrows, and I frowned at the spike of jealousy that needled at me. Did he wish I were something more fierce, more predatory?

Maybe it was because my mate was a shifter, but I felt a sudden urge to mark him, much like he would mark me when we were properly mated. We’d been waiting for the kit to be born, but now I wished we could do it sooner.

We spent the rest of the day decorating the house for the holidays, and I set Santa’s gift from last year, the snow globe I’d made, on the mantel in pride of place. The festivities all gave me a sense of nostalgia, with the twinkly lights and garland. I sang while I worked, making Derek laugh when I gave the classic carols some naughty lyrics.

“No wonder you got fired,” he teased, and instead of the embarrassment or shame I might’ve once felt when I thought about getting fired, I was filled with warmth and gratitude.

The nursery was almost finished, but Derek had insisted that it needed some decorations too. We’d chosen not to find out the baby’s sex, so the room was a gender-neutral red, green, and silver. We’d bought a beautiful matching quilt for the wall above the crib at the market today, and I might’ve even dredged up a bit of Christmas elf magic to add some extra sparkle .

Derek stood swaying in front of the crib, humming, and I came up behind him and set my hands on his belly, rubbing in slow circles. “What are you thinking about?” I asked, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“Oh, nothing much, just our future,” he said, laughing lightly.

Chewy, who’d taken to following Derek everywhere, hopped up into the crib, sniffing the new quilt.

“You’re not leaving… right?” he asked me, a note of cautious curiosity in his voice, but there was no hiding the wobble. It seemed he’d picked up on where my own thoughts had been going lately.

“Of course not! I’m not going anywhere,” I insisted, even as a tiny tingle of doubt crept in. What if I hadn’t done enough to convince Santa that I’d changed? He’d said I had until Christmas to prove to him—and myself—that I was destined for something more, and I certainly felt like I had, but what if I hadn’t proven myself in the right way? Would he really take me away from my mate and child? I couldn’t imagine! He was generous and jolly… wasn’t he?