McDonald_NoELFngWay_GEN_Dec2015 (5 page)

“Yes. I’m the guilty one. I called her a woman,” he confessed.

“And I’m sure Dancer set you straight about being a girl,” Vixen replied. “She’s very opinionated.”

“Dancer? That’s an unusual name.”

Vixen nodded. “I named her after one of Santa’s reindeer.”

“Hey,” Dash said, snapping his fingers. “I’m named after one too.” Dancer’s giggle delighted him.

Vixen snorted. “Yes… Dasher and Dancer. That had occurred to me. How could it not? I have a reindeer name too. What else could my family name me when their last name was Dunder… which by the way was the original name of
Donner
.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Dash declared, grinning at her.

Vixen smiled as she nodded. “Maybe it was silly, but I wanted our reindeer names to be something Dancer and I had in common all our lives.”

Dash twisted his mouth, trying not to laugh. “This is very coincidental, don’t you think? All three of us having reindeer names? My genealogy is equally challenged when it comes to name selection. What else could my family do with a name like Sleigh?”

“Claus? Kris? Kringle?” Vixen rattled off.

Dash gave a mock shiver. “Claus sounds like a French chef. The other two sound like potato chip makers. Thank you, Vixen. Because of you, I like my name even better now.”

Vixen’s soft laugh made his heart flutter hopefully.

“Is your name really
Reindeer
?” Dancer asked.

Dash shook his head at her interpretation of his and Vixen’s conversation. “No. My name is Dasher Nicholas Sleigh.”

“Number 2?” Vixen prompted.

Dash chuckled. “Yes… I guess you could say I’m number two. My father was Nicholas Comet Sleigh. I was named after my grandfather—the original Dash Nicholas. My family loves Christmas too. Can you tell?”

Vixen laughed. The sound was joyful. Why had they never talked about their names back in college? She cleared her throat. “You’re probably not going to believe this… but my father’s name is Prancer.”

“Dancer and Prancer and Vixen?” Dash asked, nearly singing the rhyme.

Vixen tilted her head and tried to look wise. “Yes… but my mother’s name is Summer. I think Dad was trying to change up things a bit when he married her.”

Then they both burst out laughing. It was a silly, but thoroughly pleasant conversation.

“You can’t make stuff like this up,” Dash declared.

“No, you can’t,” Vixen replied. “Between our two families we have all eight reindeer names accounted for. You have an Uncle Blixem and a mother named Cupid.”

Dash chuckled. “No. No. Don’t jump to conclusions. Mom wasn’t named because of Christmas. Grandma liked Valentine’s Day. Being also a reindeer name is just a happy coincidence. And don’t forget Nicky. Now he’s named after the
real
Santa… like I was.”

“Santa’s real name is
Nicky
?” Dancer exclaimed. She held both hands open. “Why doesn’t anyone tell me these things?”

Vixen shook her head. Dash nodded at the pixie and winked.

“It’s a big secret,” he said, looking at Vixen’s daughter. “My son is in line to be a real Santa one day, but he’s only six. It will be years before he’s big enough.”

Dancer’s indrawn breath made him laugh.

“Thanks, Dash. Thanks a lot. Do you always tease this much?” Vixen demanded.

Grinning, Dash reached out and sent her jingle bell ringing. “Only until I stop,” he said.

Vixen rolled her eyes and set her daughter down. She saw Dash following her bending over motion with his rapt gaze. She was suddenly glad the elf skirt came with shorts under it. She couldn’t do anything about how much it showed her legs.

“Mommy… I want to see the real Santa.”

“You will honey,” Vixen said.

“No. The one named
Nicky
….” Dancer insisted.

Vixen glared at an unrepentant Dash. “See what you started?”

Dash rubbed the side of his face to keep from smiling. Could it be this easy?

“Actually, I think that is a great idea. Why don’t you bring Dancer by the house for some hot chocolate tonight? Mom puts in extra marshmallows.”

“Extra marshmallows!” Dancer grabbed her mother’s leg. “Mom… please. We
have
to go.”

Vixen’s eyes widened. “I don’t believe this. You’re using my child.”

“Yes. Ruthlessly,” Dash confessed. “Lots of chaperones tonight, though. I figure you’ll feel safe and get to see how normal I am. Then when you relax, I can make my real move.”

Vixen crossed her arms. “We can make hot chocolate with extra marshmallows at home.”

“
Please…
” Dancer begged.

“
Please
…” Dash mimicked, ignoring her glare.

“Even if we came by, it could only be for a few minutes. Dancer goes to bed at eight thirty. We get up early.” Vixen looked down at her clothes. “And I don’t have anything else to wear, but this.”

Dash smiled. “Perfect. Got the red shoes with you?”

“No,” Vixen said sharply, fisting a hand on her hip.

“Too bad,” Dash replied, grinning at her stern look.

Vixen huffed and turned back to her daughter. “Okay. We’ll do an errand and then go by for a few minutes. Go tell Booma we’ll see her later at home. Be polite, Dancer.”

“Yay,” Dancer called out, running to the woman who waited in the chair.

“Is that Dancer’s grandmother?” Dash asked, looking across at the pair.

“No. My mom lives four hours away. Booma is Dancer’s nanny… but like a second grandmother. My hours aren’t exactly normal and I need the full-time help. I wish my schedule could be different, but it can’t be… at least not right now.”

“Booma is welcome to come too,” Dash said, meaning it. “Cupid will be there. Hopefully Nicky will be done with his homework. If you want, I’ll even call Blix. He didn’t want to leave Mom last night after dinner anyway. I wish they’d just date. They’re both lonely.”

Vixen’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re actually trying to hook your mother up with my uncle. Who are you?”

Dash leaned in but didn’t touch. “I’m the grown up version of that arrogant kid you once knew. I might use your daughter to get you to my house, but I’ll gladly fill it with people you like to make you comfortable. I want that kiss, but I also want a chance to put the past behind us and start over.”

Vixen smiled, closed her eyes, and hung her head. “Okay. Fine. I hope I’m not going to regret this.”

Dash stepped close and lowered his voice. “You won’t this time. I promise.”

Vixen snorted. “We’ll see. Don’t get your hopes up, Dash. I’m only coming for the extra marshmallows.”

Dash laughed and fished a business card out of his wallet. He happily wrote his address and phone number on the back.

Smiling over his success, he watched Vixen’s swaying hips as she headed to retrieve her daughter.

“Are you sure this is the real Santa’s house?” Dancer asked.

Vixen sighed. Damn Dash and his teasing. Now she was the one dealing with the endless questions.

“Not really, honey. It’s Dasher Sleigh’s house. His son Nicky lives here. But Dancer, I think Dash was just teasing. Nicky’s just a little boy… like you’re a little girl. Nicky doesn’t look anything like Santa. I met him at the mall when I was elfing. He looks like his daddy.”

She couldn’t help but laugh when her daughter smacked her forehead with her tiny hand. It was something her mother routinely did. Though Dancer didn’t see her grandmother often, they were two of a kind.

“Duh. I’m not a baby—I’m four now. And I
listened
, Mommy.”

Vixen sighed at Dancer’s chastising and shook her head as they walked up the meticulously kept sidewalk. It was obvious there was no struggle for upkeep at the Sleigh residence.

Coming here was a bad idea. She knew it long before she caved in to Dash’s emotional blackmail. She didn’t routinely expose her daughter to men she lusted after. He’d been so friendly at the store that he’d snuck past her normal reserves and forced her to bypass the protective measures she usually took.

Just like he had back in college, Dash was wearing her down in every way a man could to get her to do what he wanted. She simply couldn’t afford to let herself care for him again. Old fantasies she’d buried had resurfaced. New fantasies—way more adult ones—had begun plaguing her sleep since Blix had forced their re-introduction to each other.

On what was she even basing her assumptions that Dasher Sleigh might have changed over the years? On nothing, she decided. He hadn’t even recognized her when he’d seen her again. All Dash had noticed were her legs, which, granted, were the point of wearing the tall red heels that day, but still… she hadn’t meant to resurrect an old heartache. She had only meant to lure Uncle Blix’s elves into having fun in the costume.

Hadn’t she learned her lesson about shallow men from Dancer’s uninterested father? Men who looked like Dash only wanted the pleasure of the chase and the bedding reward that followed a woman getting caught.

Love and romance were no more than a game to those kinds of men, and she drew them like a magnet. Money and wealth let a man feel like he could waltz away from his mistakes without a backwards glance. Dancer’s father had barely acknowledged the child he’d conceived. His lack of involvement suited Vixen fine because it had removed her mistake permanently from her life.

The single parent situation wasn’t optimal, but she did her best with it. Dancer deserved more than the occasional hit-and-run male passing through her life. Believing that was why she had been very careful about dating. No man had made it far enough to merit introducing to her daughter more than briefly. Whatever kind of woman her infrequent sleepovers at their bachelor homes made her, she knew she was sparing her child some long term disappointment by keeping unsuitable men away.

Vixen felt no regrets for taking emotional precautions. Dancer mattered more to her than anything—more even than alleviating her own loneliness. She had work she loved and a business she was proud of. She had a family who loved her and accepted her child without reservations. Those blessings kept her going. Those blessings had also helped her stop frantically searching for the perfect male companion, which was good because he refused to be found anyway… or so it seemed to her.

“Mommy… you have to knock on the door.”

Vixen looked down. Even Dancer knew she was stalling. “Sorry, Baby. They have a doorbell. Do you want to push it?”

She pointed to the button beside the door handle. Nodding vigorously, Dancer used two tiny fingers to get it to ring and then squealed when it went off inside the house.

Vixen felt a ball of lead forming in her gut at hearing the sound because it couldn’t be taken back. When Cupid answered the door, she practically melted with relief not to have to confront Dash just yet. She also realized a tiny part of her hadn’t believed Dash when he said others would be present.

“What a great elf you are, Vixen. It’s so nice of you to make a personal visit,” Cupid teased, smiling at the nervous woman on the doorstep. She dropped her gaze and beamed at the child. “Nice to see you again, Dancer.”

Instead of answering, Dancer chose that moment to get shy. She reached her arms up to Vixen who lifted her automatically.

“Where did my brave girl go? You were the one who rang the doorbell. You remember, Cupid. She’s Uncle Blix’s special friend.”

“Special friend?” Cupid repeated, waving them inside as she laughed. “Come into the living room. The boys are working on a train set that goes around the tree.”

“Dancer, you’re heavy. Walk beside me like a big girl. You can hold my hand,” Vixen said, sliding her daughter down her body.

“I want to walk with Cupid,” Dancer declared.

Vixen shrugged when Cupid’s surprised gaze met hers. Dancer took Cupid’s hand when it was offered. Vixen followed behind, listening to her daughter now chatting to Cupid like she’d known her forever.

Looking around on her walk, she saw Dash’s home was just as nice and well cared for on the inside.

In the living room, two dark heads were bent over the train track they carefully assembled. It looked like serious business and sounded like it too, as they debated how big a circle needed to be made.

Dash’s head lifted on their entry, but before he could get a word out, Nicky had jumped up and ran to her.

“Hi Vixen. Did Santa get my letter?” he demanded

Like every parent wanting to spare the illusions of a child, Vixen nodded and smiled before lying. “Of course. What kind of elf do you think I am?”

She fisted her hands on her hips as she gave him a confident smile.

“If you’re a real elf, where’s your hat?” Nicky demanded.

“Nicholas…” Dasher chastised. “Be nice.”

Vixen rolled her eyes up and pretended to search for it on her head and above it. “Darn it. I knew I was forgetting something. Santa is going to kill me. I keep losing my hat all the time.”

“Mommy… you left it in the car. Don’t you remember?” Dancer prompted.

So much for maintaining my elf fantasy, Vixen thought, looking down at her realist child. “That’s right. I left my elf hat in the car. Silly me.”

Dancer looked between her and Nicky. Vixen snickered at her daughter’s curiosity. She wondered how long it would take her child to ask Dash’s child if he had a Santa suit in his room.

“Dancer, this is Nicky.” She looked at Nicky. “Nicky, this is my daughter, Dancer.”

Nicky smacked his forehead in exaggerated disbelief. “
Another
reindeer name? We have too many of them.”

Vixen chuckled. Likable brat, she decided, grinning at Dash’s son. “Yes. Yes. Lots of reindeer names around here, Dasher Nicholas Sleigh Number 3.”

Nicky’s chuckle over her saying his whole name made her daughter giggle too. When her attention finally left the children, she turned her head and noticed Dash now hovered over all of them. Nicky turned to look up at his tall father.

“Dad, you didn’t tell me elves could have children. Didn’t you think that was an important thing to tell me?”

“You’re right, Nicky. It was very important. I don’t know how I forgot to mention it,” Dash countered, never missing a beat. “How about we take a hot chocolate break and finish the train tracks later?”