Page 6 of The Naughty List Agreement

She winked at him as she strode out, plaid skirt swishing around those beautiful, long legs.

Back in his North Pole office, Nick stood staring gloomily out of his window. The hockey game had long since finished and twilight had bled into the full dark of night. The Gold Lumen had many benefits, one of which was enveloping Hearthvale in an ethereal dome of veiled light that mimicked average northern hemisphere rhythms of day and night. The sky wasn’t completely black, as his old friends the stars kept him company. He watched the aurora borealis dance and streak across the sky. Normally the view calmed him.

He had a plate of Martha’s freshly baked gingerbread and a mug of hot cocoa steaming on his desk. Their rich scents teased his senses but he continued to watch the lights dance and the snow fall. This morning he’d written her name on the Naughty List, and now? He hesitated, instead shoving his hands through his thick hair several times. Stress eating was not going to solve his problems.

He wasn’t about to be the Bari that ruined Christmas and damned humanity to the joyless Krampus, but his options were limited to Cora Quill and … and what? Her version of Christmas was the opposite of everything he believed in: there were no pairs of innocent eyes ablaze with wonder, no sloppily frosted sugar cookies decorated by small hands, no voices both young and old joined in laughter and song…

He’d reassured the Legendaries he had everything under control. He’d seen their relief when he mentioned the drink dates he’d lined up. He’d told them he was working on some promising new ideas for topping up the Magic Coffers but the grumbling when he’d refused to give any details reflected their lack of confidence in his ability to deliver. He couldn’t blame them, because he didn’t have any details—or ideas—to offer. Raven, the Queen of Halloween, had offered to contribute a fright element to Christmas but luckily Nick wasn’t the only one who’d nixed that idea.

His best bet was from Cora, but he wasn’t going to roll over and accept whatever crumbs she threw at him. She’d said please—she must be desperate, so he had some bargaining power. If he could get her to mend her ways, they could both win.

He needed to spend some time at his workbench with his team of hardworking designers. Gemma, the head of the tech department, had designed a gizmo that was still in the prototype stages but was meant to breathe new life into some of his older toys using connectivity. And Buddy knew the wooden toy houses as well as Nick did; they were classics. He’d even done a few distinctive homes over the years for special kids. There could be something in that as an idea for the star toy of the season? Home was the best feeling in the world.

The world’s magic was thinning, Black Lumen edging out his own and casting everything in a colder light. Joy was giving way to obligation; creativity dimming to a stubborn, struggling ember. He needed a Hearth Anchor, but finding a wife in December was going to be tough.

Nick’s reverie was broken by the sound of someone arriving through the portal. He glanced over his shoulder to see Jack leaning casually against the gateway.

“Heard you’re bringing a date to my bar tonight. Guess the new pics on your profile worked?” Jack said as he plopped down in the large leather armchair that faced the fireplace.

Nick took a seat in the other chair. He waved his hand and a table with two mugs of hot chocolate and some buttery sugar cookies appeared. Looked like he’d be eating his feelings after all.

“Yes and no. I’m meeting a couple of women for drinks, but also someone who is definitely not a date.”

“Who?” Jack was suddenly interested.

“That woman who fired me a few years ago.”

“Why are you going out with her?” Jack frowned as he cupped his frosty hands around the steaming mug until ice shards appeared and then he took a sip.

“She’s invited me back to Winter Wonderland.” Nick related the details of her offer to Jack. “I’d be a fool to turn down this chance to be on the front lines.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me. It will give you a chance to meet new people—and by new people I mean women.” He cocked a cheeky eyebrow at Nick.

How was he supposed to find a life partner in less than thirty days? He did work well under pressure but even he wasn’t convinced he could pull this off.

“I put her on the Naughty List, for goodness’ sake! She irks me. Okay, sure, she wants kids to be happy and she wears the heck out of a Christmasy outfit, but she’s not really living it?” Nick ignored Jack’s skeptical eyebrow which remained stubbornly raised.

“Have you ever considered maybe you’ve struggled to meet a Mrs. Claus because you hold everyone to impossible standards?” Nick practically choked on his sugar cookie.

“I’m not talking about dating her! She’s Naughty List business.”

“If you say so.” Jack slurped on his icy cocoa. “I’m glad you’re bringing her to the bar so I can see what she’s like.”

“Ha! You’ll see. She wants me to change my toys. Can you believe it?”

Jack chewed thoughtfully, brushing cookie crumbs from his lap.

“Change isn’t necessarily a bad thing. My magic isn’t what it used to be,” Jack said. “The coffers are running dangerously low and we’re not blind to the dark spots in the Yearweave. Pete Krampus must be rubbing his hands with glee.”

Jack had a point. Damn.

He hated to give any credence to Cora’s suggestion that he jazz up the dollhouse, but the seed had been planted and now he felt halfway inspired. Images floated into his mind and he felt a warm, fuzzy feeling bubble up from deep inside him.

“Enjoy your drink,” Nick said, abandoning his friend in his seat by the fire as he strode with renewed vigor down the long hallway to his workshop. Not about to be left behind, Jack followed on his heels.

The scents of beech, maple, and birch welcomed Nick into their embrace. Sawdust lingered on the floor no matter how many times he swept, as though it was determined to see the results of the craftsman’s careful labor. On one wall hung his tools—hammers, saws, chisels, and mallets—and underneath sat neatly arranged boxes of sandpaper of different grades. The bench that ran along another wall held the table saw and planer that had been his dad’s. As a curious child, Nick had spent all of his time in here, asking his father questions and attempting to craft something that would impress him. Half-formed figures littered the table nearest the window overlooking the thick pine forest that surrounded the entire village. Garlands from that very forest were looped around the remaining space, filling the workshop with their fresh scent. A wave of Nick’s hand illuminated the strings of lights woven through the branches, bathing the room in a soft, twinkling glow.

Jack fiddled with a carving knife that rested near an unfinished figure Nick had been making for his mom for Christmas. “This looks good,” Jack said. “Ana?”