Chapter 14 Becken #2
I felt asinine. The red suit hung oddly on my frame despite being orc-sized, and the hat kept sliding over my right ear. “You’re sure children enjoy seeing someone dressed like this?”
“It’s wonderful,” Carla breathed.
“What’s ‘ho, ho, ho’ supposed to mean?”
“It’s how Santa laughs,” she said. “Deep, jolly laughter.”
“Orcs don’t do that.”
“Santa does,” Aunt Inla said firmly. “Now we must test the full experience.” She took my arm and dragged me over to a red and gold throne adorned with green bows.
White stuff that was supposed to look like snow surrounded it, along with a fence where children might wait their turn meeting me in this not-so-jolly suit.
Fake trees. Fake snow. Fake cookies hanging on the trees. Humans truly did have odd traditions.
“Sit, Becken,” Aunt Inla said, urging me down onto the throne.
“I think—”
“Becken.” Carla’s voice held gentle amusement. “Just do it. Think of the children if that helps.” She held up one of the bell-covered collars she was making for the sorhoxes and hung it around her neck. “Just call me your elf.”
“What’s an elf?”
“In Lord of the Rings, elves are incredibly sexy.”
“Then maybe I should be the elf in this situation.”
Aunt Inla blinked and looked back and forth between me and Carla. “Santa is not sexy.”
“My point exactly,” I said.
“In the North Pole, elves are tiny beings who assist Santa,” Carla said, chuckles breaking through her statement.
Grumbling, I sat on the throne, feeling absurd but unable to disappoint Carla and my aunt.
Aunt Inla turned to Carla. “Test it. Sit on his lap.”
“What?” Carla took a step backward. “Aunt Inla, I’m not a child.”
“Details,” Inla waved her hand. “Someone needs to ensure the experience works properly. What if the children are nervous? What if they’re too heavy? We must test everything.”
“I really don’t think—”
“Carla.” Inla used her get-out-of-the-kitchen tone on my mate. “Sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want for Christmas.”
Carla looked at me helplessly. I shrugged, though every rational part of my brain screamed this was a terrible idea. Having her on my lap, even for testing purposes, would be torture.
She approached, her cheeks pink. “This is silly.”
“Life often is,” I said.
She perched on the edge of my knee, careful not to put her full weight on me. Even that minimal contact sent heat shooting through me. The scent of her shampoo filled my nostrils, and I had to concentrate on breathing normally.
“Perfect,” Aunt Inla said. “Now, Carla, what do you want for Christmas?”
Carla’s gaze met mine, and something in her brown eyes made my heart stutter. Longing flickered there, so intense and raw it stole my breath. She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly struggling with her answer.
“I want…” she said, then stopped.
Silence stretched between us. The warmth of her body crept into mine, and her pulse fluttered in her throat. Her lips parted, and I found myself leaning forward.
“I want the rodeo program to succeed,” she said, though her words lacked conviction.
Disappointment crashed through me. The longing in her eyes hadn’t been professional. If only she was longing for me, for us, for something more than a business relationship.
Because…I was beginning to suspect I wanted her. Very much.
“A worthy wish.” Aunt Inla sounded disappointed too. “Santa will do his best to make your wish come true.”
Carla slipped off my lap, putting distance between us. “The costume looks perfect, Aunt Inla. The children will love it.”
“They will indeed.” Inla waved to me. “Change out of it, and I’ll put it away until the parade. I’ll send pillows with it next time. You’re not filling the suit out like you’re supposed to, Becken. Do practice your ho-ho-hos. I want them nice and cheerful and jolly.”
Which was anything but me.
I changed and handed the suit to my aunt.
After she left, awkward silence filled the open function hall. Carla busied herself with straightening decorations while I watched her.
“Are we done for the day?” she asked in a strained voice, not meeting my eyes.
“Yes, unless you have anything else you want to discuss about the rodeo.” Please, anything would do. I wouldn’t even mind going over everything we’d completely covered.
I wanted to be near her.
“Not right now.” She grabbed her coat from the hook near the front doors and scooted outside, leaving me standing among fake snow, fake trees, and fake cookies.
Filled with longing for her.
With a sigh, I left, closing up and locking the barn doors.
As I walked toward the hotel and my lonely room, I thought about the way Carla had integrated into the community over the past week.
At the bakery, Holly treated her like a sister, including her in decisions related to the festival preparations.
Jessi had started saving her favorite table at the saloon each evening.
Even Grannie Lil had taken to offering unsolicited advice about “that grumpy orc of yours,” as if Carla’s attachment to me was obvious to everyone.
They all loved her. More than that, they’d claimed her as family in the way she’d never experienced growing up. She’d found what she’d always wanted here, belonging, acceptance, and people who valued her for herself rather than her usefulness.
She just hadn’t found that with me.
I felt left out of Carla’s joy. I wanted to be a part of what made her happy, not a colleague she worked with before moving on to whoever offered her the next job.
The thought crystallized something I’d been avoiding thinking about.
Despite telling myself I wasn’t ready for love or a mating, and despite the guilt over moving forward after Wexla, I couldn’t stop thinking about Carla.
The bond was part of it, but not all. Even without golden marks connecting us, I would’ve been drawn to her determination, her hidden vulnerability, her fierce loyalty to people she cared about.
She was incredible. Amazing. And I couldn’t imagine not being with her every single day of my life.
I was falling in love with her. This wasn’t the comfortable partnership I’d shared with Wexla, but something deeper, more intense.
The kind of love that made you willing to fight the world to protect someone’s happiness.
The kind of love that made you plan elaborate Christmas surprises for someone who’d never had a real Christmas morning.
The snow globe. I’d been thinking about it since she’d told me the story while we were stranded. How it had played “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”. Her foolish relatives who saw sentiment as inconvenience had lost it.
I could give that back to her. Not the original, but something close enough to heal the wound. And maybe, if I was very lucky, show her that some people were worth staying for.
But I couldn’t do this on my own. Dungar might have suggestions. I wanted this to be perfect. Something that showed I understood what Christmas meant to this mate of mine I craved like no other.
The saloon was busy when I arrived, tourists and a few people from surrounding towns dining on Lavon’s excellent food. I spotted Ostor and Tark at a corner table, their heads bent over papers.
“What are you doing?” I asked, approaching, seeing blueprints spread out in front of them.
“Beth and Ruugar’s house.” Ostor looked up with a smile. “They need more space for their youngling. Tark’s designing an addition, but we thought we could add some suggestions. What if they have two younglings? They’ll need more room.”
“I think that’s a great idea.” I sat, and we talked about how the structure could be improved, making a plan to start the groundwork this spring. Finishing, we sat back, sharing grins. It was easy to be happy for Ruugar and Beth, to think about how cozy their home would be with their new youngling.
Returning to my earlier thoughts, my smile fell. “I need advice.”
“Are you planning on younglings?” Ostor quipped. “Rosey and I are.”
“Really? She’s carrying your youngling?”
His chest puffed. “Not yet as far as I know, but we’re hopeful.”
I envied him the love of his mate, his happy situation.
Was anything like that possible for me and Carla?
It wasn’t hard to start dreaming of a cozy home I’d build with my cousins.
My mate smiling at me across our kitchen table.
Sitting with her in the evening in our living room.
Playing cards. Teaching her orc games and laughing while we both cheated to win.
Carrying her to bed each night…
I could suggest we start building a house for me in the spring, and I’d insist on at least three bedrooms.
“What kind of advice do you need?” Tark asked.
“It’s about Carla.” First, I had to win my mate’s heart. All the rest wouldn’t come if I couldn’t do that. “I want to do something special for her for Christmas.” It was a fragile start, but it was all I could think of.
“Something romantic?” Ostor’s eyes lit up with interest.
“Something meaningful.” I paused, trying to find the right words. “She’s never had a real Christmas morning. Her childhood was lonely. I want to give her the kind of morning she should’ve had.”
“That’s beautiful,” Tark said. “What do you have in mind?”
“A snow globe. She told me about one her mother had. It played “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”. And maybe I could serve her breakfast somewhere special.”
“I love this. I’ll be happy to help.” Ostor grinned. “What do you need us to do?”