Page 146 of Tangled In Tinsel & Knots
They trade one of those loaded looks that tells mewhateverthey went through was probably illegal, violent, or deeply stupid.
“We’ll tell you everything,” Kane promises. “But it requires alcohol.”
“I can’t wait,” I say, and I mean it.
We stand there for a few minutes, all four of us tucked close to the edge of the square. The choir has moved into the softer carols now, voices floating up with the snow, families clustered under the glow of the tree. Kids are still lined up for photos with the tree and Corn Dog on the stage, who is posing, seeming to love the attention. Chris is close by, keeping an eye on him.
And for the first time in weeks, my chest doesn’t feel like it is being crushed.
The rest of the evening goes smoothly. The crowd lingers, enjoying hot cocoa and surrounding stalls, and soon enough, the team handles the breakdown exactly as I trained them to.
Eventually the line thins out, and Corn Dog is officially off duty. Chris comes down from the little stage, hand on Corn Dog’s halter, the reindeer trotting proudly beside him like he just won an award. “We should probably get him home before he decides to break something,” he says, stopping beside me. “He’s got that look.”
“He always has that murder look,” Noel mutters.
“Okay,” I say, breathing out as the crowd starts thinning and the choir packs up their sheet music. “Everything went very well. I’m exhausted. Let’s go home.”
Chris nods. “Yeah. Let’s load Corn Dog and get moving.”
Kane and Noel fall into step beside us as we head toward the truck.
“All four of us in the truck with him,” Kane says, shaking his head with a laugh. “This is going to be a fun ride.”
Noel snorts. “Funis one word for it.”
I narrow my eyes at both of them. “Why are you talking like that?”
Kane lifts his hands. “Nothing. Just… prepare yourself.”
“For what?” I look between them, baffled. “It’s a reindeer, not a demon.”
Both men chuckle.
Corn Dog suddenly shoves his nose into my hip like he wants attention immediately.
Kane laughs harder. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”
Both men just start climbing into the front of the truck, while Chris opens the back door for me. I jump in, and he goes on the other side with Corn Dog, shoving him in alongside me, then he gets in.
“Yeah,” Noel calls from the passenger seat, “and we really do wish you luck.”
Corn Dog lets out a loud, proud grunt, like he absolutely agrees.
I glance at Chris.
He shrugs helplessly. “We’ll figure it out.”
“You two ready back there?” Kane asks from the driver’s seat, grinning into the rearview mirror.
“Ready for what?” I ask, slightly worried.
“The wildest ride of your life.”
The truck pulls away from the curb. For about thirty seconds, everything is fine.
Then Kane takes the first turn, and Corn Dog doesn’t just lurch; helaunchessideways into me, hooves scrambling across the seat like he’s trying to scale a cliff.
I shriek. “What the—Corn Dog, sit! Or… whatever the reindeer equivalent of ‘sit’ is!”
