Page 6 of I Saw Krampus Kissing Ms Claus

When I look down, Krampus is watching me with a smirk as his tail flicks through the air behind him.

“What?” I demand.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “I forgot how passionate you can get about these things.”

“It’s important!”

“I know.” He says softly. “It’s also kinda hot.”

I roll my eyes. But the comment shoots an irritatingly familiar twinge of desire to my belly. Krampus chooses this moment to stand to his full height on the narrow walkway, and I’m forced to tilt my head up to look him in his golden eyes. The vertical pupil dilates as his smirk broadens. I level my gaze so I’m not trapped in that heat. Unfortunately, that leaves me staring directly at his broad velvety chest. The fur there looks so soft, a pleasant contrast to the hard muscles. I bet it would feel great to run my fingers across, or press my cheek into, or rub my bare skin against.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Krampus grumbles.

“What?” I snap back to reality and move a few steps back from him. Everywhere we go seems a little too small, with Krampus occupying the space.

“That all the Christmas Cheer is missing from the same silo.”

I shrug. “Seems like it would be easier to steal everything from one silo.”

“I’ve punished a lot of thieves. If the thief were smart, they’d spread out the theft. Take a small amount from each of them.” He waves a hand to the field of silos surrounding us.

“Aren’t thieves like… dumb?”

Krampus laughs. It’s pleasant and low, reverberating through his diaphragm. “Or maybe they want to get caught? Maybe someone wanted an excuse to talk to their old friend Krampus?”

“I did not steal the Cheer.” I roll my eyes.

“I know.” Krampus says. “I can read your aura. Guilt is not the sin I see floating through your thoughts right now.”

I look at him questioningly, and he wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Are you having naughty little fantasies about me?”

“Naughty fantasies about pushing you off this walkway.” I grumble.

He laughs again. The sound makes my cheeks warm. “I’d love to see you try it, Saint Nik. Shove your whole body into me.”

“Don’t call me that.” I grumble, but the urge to push my hands hard against his chest wells up, but I force that idea from my brain. I don’t have time for those kinds of distractions. Besides, his flirting is just for show. It’s just who he is. He proved that to me years ago.

I turn my back on him, heading back down the staircase to the safety and the wide open ground. It will be easier to think when there’s more space.

“Who has access to the silos?” Krampus asks behind me.

“Anyone could get into the field, but the silos are locked, and there was no evidence of tampering.”

“Who’s got the keys, then?”

“Well me, obviously. And Santa.” I jingle the key in my hand. “And there’s Snickerdoodle. She’s our inventory auditor. She’s the one who noticed the discrepancy in the first place.”

“We should question her first.” Krampus says.

“Snickerdoodle didn’t do it.” I protest. “She’s a loyal elf, and there’s nothing she’d gain from messing up Christmas. All the blame would just fall back on her.”

“Maybe, but she could have noticed something important.” Krampus wraps both hands around the metal handrail and easily leaps over it, bypassing the last row of the staircase. He falls a full ten feet before his hooves land gracefully in the snow with a quiet thump. I ignore his showy display until he grins and offers a hand to help me down the last few rickety stairs.

Without thinking, I slip my fingers into his warm hand and a pleasant little jolt shoots into my chest. Growing up together, this kind of platonic touch was frequent and incidental. I used to take any excuse to touch him, to talk to him, to spend more time with him. But, as an adult, everything is different. There’s more weight to our touch, figuratively and literally.

I’m left trying to decide when I can remove my hand. Too slow will seem like I am still mooning over him like the goofy little girl that I used to be. Too quick will seem like I’m affected by him.

I do not manage to play it cool, and jerk my burning hand out of his the second that both of my boots are firmly in the white snow. Needing to just put a little bit of distance between us, I shove my fist deep into the pocket, feigning being affected by the cold.

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