Page 120 of Tangled In Tinsel & Knots
I want to believe him, but the dread sitting heavily in my chest won’t budge.
Slowly, the crowd returns its attention to the parade route, and following Santa.
Chris produces a bottle of water from somewhere and hands it to me. “Drink. You’re pale.”
I take it gratefully and gulp down half the bottle, the cold water helping to clear my head slightly.
“You’re doing great,” he says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know you’re stressed, but you handled an emergency with grace and efficiency.”
I lean into his touch for just a moment, drawing strength from his solid presence.
My team is moving along Main Street, removing rope barriers, waving to the dispersing crowd who all seem happy and satisfied despite the earlier fire.
The Santa float has already been towed away to the staging area, but I can’t stop thinking about how much worse it could have been. If the flames had spread faster, if people had panicked and stampeded, if Santa had fallen from that platform…
My phone rings, and my stomach drops when I see that it’s the council member we booked this event through, the head of the public events committee.
I answer with a shaking hand. “Hello, Margaret.”
“Hannah, I heard about the fire on the Santa float. How did that happen?”
My stomach churns. “We’re investigating the exact cause. The electrician who inspected everything certified it as safe, but clearly something went wrong. I’ve already ordered a full?—”
“Look,” Margaret interrupts, and her tone is firm but not unkind. “I know sometimes shit happens. Equipment fails, things go wrong despite our best efforts. Most people I’ve talked to are actually raving about your last-minute addition to the parade, those adorable reindeer. They saved you in a way.”
Some of the tension eases from my shoulders. “I’m so glad people enjoyed them.”
“But, Hannah, the tree lighting ceremony next week is even more important. Higher stakes, more visibility, more things that can go wrong. I need you to promise me it will go off without a hitch.”
“I promise. I’ll triple-check everything. Quadruple-check. I’ll personally inspect every single element.”
“Good. I’m counting on you.The councilis counting on you.”
She hangs up, and I stand there staring at my phone. The pressure is crushing. The tree lighting has to be perfect. Has to be. And suddenly my body temperature spikes dramatically. Heat floods through me, not embarrassment or stress, but actual physical heat that makes sweat break out across my skin.
No. Not now. God, not now.
“Chris, we need to go see what they found with the float,” I say quickly, trying to ignore the growing ache between my thighs.
“Are you okay?” He’s studying my face with concern. “You look flushed.”
“I’m fine. I just need to know what happened. Please.”
He takes my hand in his, squeezing gently. “Want me to carry you? You look unsteady.”
Despite everything, I laugh. “No, it’s okay. But I love that you asked.”
“I adore you, you know that?” His voice goes soft, intimate. “And you’re not working here alone. We have your back. Always.”
I stop walking and look up at him, and something in my chest clenches painfully. Then I hug him tightly, burying my face against his chest. “I love that so much. Thank you.”
He embraces me fully, his arms wrapping around me securely, and we kiss, soft at first, then deeper as I lose myself in the taste of him. When we break apart, he’s studying my face again. “Your scent is becoming stronger. I think we should head home.”
“Not yet,” I insist, even as another wave of heat rolls through me. “Please, I have to make sure—” I groan at the tightness building within me, the ache intensifying. “Just quickly, please.”
He nods reluctantly. “Quickly. Then we’re leaving.”
We hurry down the street toward the staging garages where the parade started, and the fast walk helps distract me from the fire building inside my body.
