Page 27 of Run, Run Rudolph
Now, though, I truly was scratching the animal’s chin. I might not want to dress up my animals, but I did love them. And this guy was a fan of his chin scratches. He was stretching his neck, trusting me, allowing access to a vulnerable area. This wasn’t a wild animal by any stretch.
A light feeling of happiness welled up inside, and I chuckled. “I sure hope this isn’t one of Santa’s reindeer.”
The air seemed to grow still, and the caribou’s deep dark eyes turned to me. Tamara visibly swallowed as she choked out a weak ha, ha.
I turned back to the caribou, and I froze. I didn’t move for a second or two, my hand frozen mid-scratch.
My mind refused to compute the change I saw in my patient.
Still hunkered down in my crouch, I pivoted on the balls of my feet so I could look directly at Tamara for clues as to what was going on because, suddenly, this animal had a red blinking nose.
Chapter 8
~ Tamara ~
I supposed Haden’s sudden shakiness and stunned expression answered my question about whether or not he could see Rudolph’s blinking red nose. The eavesdropping herd shifted above me as they peered over the edge of the stall’s half wall, eyeing each other, all of us unsure what would happen now that Rudolph had revealed his true identity.
Did Haden see Rudolph and his nose because he believed in his existence, like I did? Or was it because he’d touched him? Or was Rudolph in control of all of it, and had decided Haden should be able to see him?
The magical world was a confusing, layered mess of rules I’d never fully know or understand. I just hoped our actions tonight wouldn’t get us into trouble, or mess up the space-time-continuum of Christmas. If there was such a thing.
And…Haden was freaking out. He was frozen, staring at me, the colour draining from his face. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze back to Rudolph, not blinking. He seemed to be speechless.
This was not good. We needed him sane and distracted from this crazy reality so his brain didn’t blow a precious, injured-animal-helping valve.
Sweating, I swallowed my panic and focused on finding a diversion to snap him out of it. Anything!
What did a man like Haden enjoy?
Before I realized what I was doing, I was kissing Mr. Leads Women On. I’d launched myself at him, causing him to lose his balance, and we tumbled backward into the loose straw. He wasn’t resisting, but I was aware he had his choice of pretty much any single, straight female in the small town of Eagle Ridge, as well as the surrounding county. And there was absolutely no consent or hint that being mauled by me was what he wanted. None whatsoever.
I drew back long enough to check on my victim.
His eyes met mine with wonder. “You are the weirdest, most interesting and unpredictable woman I have ever met,” he whispered.
“Merry Christmas,” I breathed, relieved he’d returned to the land of the speaking, but unsure whether what he’d said had been a compliment.
Then, before I could think about things any further, his hand slid into my hair and he guided my mouth back down to his.
Well then. Merry Christmas, indeed.
Very, merry Christmas.
I sighed involuntarily. The man was a great kisser. He’d mastered the right combination of tenderness and commanding pressure, his tongue exploring, but not pushy. There was heat between us, too, and I felt like I could get lost in this moment forever.
A hoof kicked my calf, and I leapt off of Haden, hand over my mouth as I scrambled to my feet, remembering myself. “I’m so sorry!”
In my scattered haste, I nearly tumbled over Rudolph, who was looking at me as if to say, “Don’t forget about me over here, all injured and with Christmas riding on my health.”
His dark eyes sure could lay a guilt trip on a woman.
“Sorry,” I repeated breathlessly, ashamed, and unable to find somewhere safe to look. I was unsure if I was apologizing to Rudolph, his spying reindeer friends, or the man still sprawled in the straw with rosy, kissed lips.
“I’m not,” Haden said with a lopsided grin, propping himself on one elbow in the straw.
I made a garbled choking sound, well aware that he was getting the wrong idea. Completely wrong. He led women on, and had probably kissed half the county. To him, kissing me was as meaningful as taking another animal’s temperature.
As if to remind me of his popularity, his phone let out a buzz, indicating he had a new voicemail or text or demure photo from a local bombshell with ‘accidentally’ positioned cleavage behind her supposedly ‘ailing’ pet. Haden stood, ignoring his phone, and brushed the straw from his jacket and jeans. He glanced at Rudolph, and then at me.
