Chapter 17
By the end of the day, Cora was exhausted. She’d had to run back to her office here on the festival grounds only once to put out a fire involving a former mayor who wanted comp tickets. Fliss seemed to be handling most issues, but former mayor Gamble had insisted on talking to Cora.
Maybe it was the exhaustion, but she’d caved and given him the comp tickets. After he left, Fliss gave her a quizzical look.
“You never comp.”
Maybe Nick was rubbing off on her with his one-good-deed-feeds-another thing or maybe it was something else.
Something deeper. She felt like she had when she was eighteen and figuring out the kind of adult she wanted to be.
There were several possible paths in front of her and the one she was currently on would bring her closer to Nick.
She couldn’t question it too deeply or fear would send her scurrying back behind her barriers.
“He wasn’t going to leave until I did. Hardly seemed worth the effort,” she told her assistant.
Except the truth was she hadn’t minded comping him.
He’d been integral to her early success, giving Cora access to services that first year for a huge discount so she could turn a profit.
The board hadn’t wanted to invest in a money pit so had been very strict with the budget.
“Yeah, right.”
“Gamble really helped me my first year. Some comp tickets was the least I could do. If he comes back again, it’s on him.”
“Noted. How’s your time in toy jail?”
“Not as bad as I feared. It’s actually almost fun but I’ll deny that if you repeat it,” she warned Fliss. Cora had a reputation to uphold. She’d never actually been that tough—which Nick had pointed out to her—but that wasn’t news. Her flaws were apparent to herself. Always.
“I have to get back. We might need to order more pens and paper for the paperchain tree. I also need to check our financials on the event and see if there’s room to add some seating attendants to the food court. I had lunch there today and the seating is difficult to manage with a tray of food.”
“I’m on it. I posted the videos earlier and I’ve been commenting on and reposting anyone who tags us. I’ve asked our information booth staff to go out and get video comments whenever they have some slow time.”
“Good, that will help online. I think word of mouth should be strong based on comments I’ve heard in the toy village. How is it at the exit gates? What are they hearing?”
“All raves. Some attendees are talking about a return trip,” Fliss said.
“Let’s give them an incentive with a fifteen percent off coupon code. Can you get some graphics ready for that?”
Fliss nodded. Cora spent another fifteen minutes in her office before heading back to meet with Nick.
He’d had to go to his factory to check stock levels; the WonderHaus was flying off the shelves.
Cora had some concerns they’d sell out but that would only serve to bring more attention to the toy and to the festival, and therefore increase demand, which would be a win for her.
But not for the kids, she realized. If Nick couldn’t keep up with demand, which Cora admitted was exceeding last year’s toy, then should she have an alternative?
When she got back to the Bari’s Toys booth there was still a line out the door.
She grabbed the apron that she’d been issued earlier and donned it, jumping in to helping customers until the jingle bells sounded at 8 pm, signaling that Santa’s elves—as the toy vendors were referred to in the event space—had to return to the North Pole for the night.
The crowds hadn’t dwindled much and it took another thirty minutes before the last customer was served and left.
“Great job today, everyone. I think we have an idea of what to expect in the coming days. I’ll see some of you tomorrow. Have a good night,” Nick said to all the staff.
He walked over to Cora, looking just as yummy now as he had this morning.
“I think I lost the bet,” she told him.
“Ya did. There was nary an eyeroll from you today. I guess that means movie at my place.”
“Your place that’s far out of town? I’m not sure. I have to be home before midnight,” she teased.
“If you’re good, I’ll let you sleep over,” he said.
“Define ‘good.’”
They were alone in the quiet of the toy shop, just the two of them and the boxes of dollhouses around them along with the scent of pine from the fresh boughs that decorated the shop and twinkle lights that danced and flickered.
Nick stopped when he was barely an inch from her. He had one of his ridiculous flannel shirts that hugged his biceps, sleeves rolled up with his tattoos visible. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her.
A slow heat started somewhere around her neck and spread down her body. He’d shoved his hands through his hair numerous times during the day, leaving it tousled, which made her want to run her fingers through it.
“I think I’d rather be naughty with you,” she said.
He groaned.
“Bad pun.”
“Good images.”
He’d taken off the leather apron he’d worn all day but there was still a rustic sexiness to him.
He was very much the toymaker in the shop, and she’d seen him working with his hands to fix a toy to a child’s particular but confusing specification.
She’d watched those long fingers move over the wood too often.
Her eyes should have been fixed on her own work but he drew her in.
It was the same way that snow eventually settled on the ground, but for her there was no settling.
Just that wild feeling of blowing around him, trying to get closer but never really getting there.
Her emotions were bubbling up with that heat that she only experienced when Nick was close to her, drawing her in.
Her hand fell to his chest, her fingers going between the buttons of his shirt until she touched skin. His pupils dilated and her breath caught.
No surprise that her breasts felt full and her core empty and aching. He was a craving and she was tired of denying herself.
Bringing mortals to Hearthvale wasn’t forbidden. It existed outside of the mortal realm in the wintery north, but with that magic contract the first Nick Bari had signed, had come the entire realm, and he’d recruited elves who’d been living among mortals to come and share eternity with him.
Nick’s parents lived in the real world and moved between the two realms to visit him and their old friends.
But with Cora, it was different. She mattered to him and he wasn’t ready to probe how deeply.
The complexities of this woman would probably take him all of eternity to figure out.
Her knot in the Yearweave still troubled him.
But at least the coffers were moving in the right direction. There was still plenty of Black Lumen, but the Gold Lumen was starting to move ahead. The relief Nick felt when he noticed that was immense. It made him believe that spending his time in Pine Falls with Cora was paying off.
“Let’s go,” he said. Taking her hand in his, he thought of all the ways he could transport her back to the Hearthvale. Probably the easiest would be to contact one of the sleep elves and get her to go to sleep, but that felt borderline creepy, like he’d drugged her.
He wasn’t about to do that. Instead, he turned to a white lie. “About my place…”
“Yeah?” Her response wasn’t exactly what he’d expected. There was that tinge of disappointment coupled with cynicism.
“I live behind Frosty Jack’s. When we entered my workshop there, we were close to my house,” he said.
“Okay. I’m not judgy about homes. Mine is probably bigger than one woman needs but it was in my budget,” she said quietly.
“Of course. I like your place.” Her home revealed so much about her. Each piece of furniture or painting on her wall had been deliberately chosen.
She shrugged. “It’s hard to make a home. Did you find that when you moved into your own place? Like, I knew all the things I didn’t want but then everything I thought I wanted was based on magazine or fashion trends. Turned out I didn’t love those either.”
He linked their hands together as they walked through the cold December night toward the car park. The first day of the last month of the year always felt special to him—the beginning of the season of light.
He had a lot of important dates this month, but being here with Cora made him smile.
“My home is a bit like that. I moved into my parents’ old apartment when they retired. At first I stayed in my childhood bedroom while I remodeled all the rooms. I moved into the main bedroom earlier this year. It still feels odd.”
She laughed. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I love your family, by the way. Even your weird uncle and aunt.”
“They are a bit of an acquired taste. I should have warned you before you came over for Thanksgiving.”
“It might have scared me off.”
He doubted it. Cora never allowed fear to keep her from doing something. He’d been surprised that she’d complimented him on the ideas he’d suggested for the festival, but shouldn’t have been. She was generous with her praise in equal measure to her criticism. That was part of what made her her.
They drove out of the festival grounds and he fiddled with the radio until he found the station playing all Christmas tunes. “Hope we get to hear your fav. Hearing you belt out the chorus is still a highlight.”
“I bet. I’m not going to win a talent contest with my voice but when I’m alone I don’t mind singing. I struggled at the tree lighting,” she admitted.
“The joy—”
“Ugh. I don’t want to hear any more about joy,” she said. “I’m sick of joy.”
“You can’t be,” he said. “That’s not possible.”
“True joy isn’t easy to find. You can’t plan your way to happiness. It has to be spontaneous.”
The truth in her words shone through. Contentment was easier to find but most weren’t satisfied with that. His job brought him joy, but she was right—true, deep joy came out of nowhere.
“Agree. But if you’ll indulge me…”
“Go on.”