A Very Mystic Christmas (The Mystic Wolves) (7 page)

“You weren’t?” I whispered.

“No.” Taking the remaining treat from my hand, he carefully turned me so I was sitting sideways in his arms. “You will always be my favorite thing to savor and taste.”

I didn’t hesitate. I
couldn’t keep myself from wanting him to lean in and kiss me. When he said things like that, those confessions from his heart, it was impossible to sit still and do nothing. I wanted to tell him I felt the same way—that he’d become a vital part of my life and successfully worked his way deeply beneath my skin. The connection between us filled me with awe; and, as much as I worried it would eventually fade away, it just kept growing stronger and stronger.

Gentle arms encircled me, enveloping me in a tender embrace. Mason wasn’t lying when he spoke of savoring
; because the kiss we now shared bordered on languid. We took our time, ensuring that with each brush of our chocolate-laced tongues and dip of our sweet tasting lips, a greater connection was being built between us. As far as I was concerned, no one else existed in this perfect moment.

My heart raced as my toes curled inside
my boots. My nerves were on edge. I felt everything—every blissful flutter, swirl, and tingle. Mason affected me on every level and suddenly, I didn’t want to hold back. It started to bubble within my chest and surge upward until I thought I’d explode. There was no other choice but to end the kiss, magical as it was.

“I love you,” I gushed.

“I love you,” Mason blurted out at the same time.

We both burst out into laughter. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“I know. I’ve wanted to say it for the longest time,” he confessed, squeezing me tightly against him, before letting go. “I love you so much that it’s been hard to wait for the right time to say it.”

“You
, too?” I searched his eyes to see if I was dreaming.

“Heck yes, Darcy. I think I’ve been in love with you since the very second I saw you. I just didn’t want to scare you off by admitting how I really felt. I didn’t want you
to think I was trying to rush us.”

“I thought I’d explode right here if I waited any longer. I’m glad I said it
; it feels right.”

“It does.” Hi thumb brushed over my cheekbone, love blazing in his eyes.

“Say it again,” I whispered, edging into his touch.

“I love you, Darcy Matthews.”

I laughed out loud, reveling in the moment. “I have a new Christmas favorite. An all-time favorite. You.”

“So I beat
S’mores?” Mason nuzzled into my hair, causing me to tremble in his arms.

“Absolutely. I love you, too.”

“I’m never going to get tired of hearing that, just so you know,” he admitted.

“Good
; because now that it’s out, I plan on saying it every day.” I lifted his hand to my mouth and feathered light kisses over his skin. “How about one more time for good measure . . . I love you.”

“I love you
S’more.”

White Chocolate Peppermint Pretzels

Ingredients

24 oz. white chocolate (your choice-- chips or block)

1/2
tsp. peppermint extract

1 bag of pretzels
(your choice)

1 box of red and white candy c
anes, unwrapped and crushed.

Directions

1.
       
Melt the chocolate in a double boiler on the stove.  

2.
      
Once chocolate is melted, stir in peppermint extract.  

3.
      
Dip pretzels in and cover with white chocolate.  

4.
     
Place chocolate covered pretzels on wax paper, and sprinkle with crushed candy canes.

Foolproof Dark Chocolate Fudge

Submitted by Angel Downey

Ingredients

3 c
ups Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips

1 14
oz. can sweetened condensed milk

Dash of salt

1 cup of chopped walnuts

1 1/2 tsp.
vanilla extract

Method

1.
       
In a saucepan over low heat, melt chips with sweetened condensed milk & salt.  

2.
      
Remove from heat; stir in walnuts and vanilla and spread into an aluminum foil lined 8 or 9 inch square pan. 

3.
      
Chill for 2 hours.

4.
     
Put on Cutting board; peel off foil and cut into squares.

5.
      
Yields 2 pounds.

Grandma's Brown Sugar Cookies

Submitted by Christina Silcox

Ingredients

1 lb. dark brown sugar

3 eggs

2 tsp. vanilla extract

1/2 lb. softened butter

1 cup water

2 1/3 cups flour

1 cup raisins

1/2-1 cup walnut pieces

Method

1.
       
Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy.

2.
      
Mix in the vanilla, eggs, and water.

3.
      
Add flour and mix just until incorporated.

4.
     
Fold in the raisins and walnuts.

5.
      
Drop by spoonful onto a greased or parchment lined cookie sheet and bake at 375' for 8-9 minutes.

To Darcy, Love Santa

With Devlin

The quick phone call let me know it was time. It hadn’t taken me long to arrive at the modest home
; and testing the back door handle, I slipped inside. Carefully making sure my presence went unnoticed, I brushed my feet over the mat so I wouldn’t track in any of the snow that lightly coated the ground outside.

As the years passed, this
had become a tradition I’d grown to love and cherish. Unfortunately, it was becoming more and more dangerous. The chances of being discovered grew, just as the reason for my visits grew and became more aware of her surroundings. It had been easier when she was a baby; but it was now six years from her birth, and the day was rapidly approaching when we’d officially meet.

I couldn’t remain a silent observer for much longer. The idea thrilled me that I’d be able to develop a deeper relationship with my charge. I simply worried
about what introducing her to me would bring. My sole purpose was to keep her happy and protected.

Letting out a soft sigh, I silently crept through the house to my designated hiding place. Lynn and I had made these arrangements a few Christmas
es ago—including where they’d open up gifts, so I could have the perfect viewing spot, hidden from the family. Only Lynn was in on my secret. It was imperative that no one knew the lengths I’d gone to in keeping my oath. And even though it pained her not to confide in her husband, the fewer people who knew, the better.

The young girl
, sitting cross-legged by the tree with her long brown hair in pigtails, was worth all the cloak and dagger antics. She was the number one priority in my life. Not because I was an Enforcer and it was my responsibility to keep people safe, but because Darcy Matthews was beloved by me; she was a precious child, and my niece.

Standing in the shadows, camouflaged and kept from sight, the resemblance to my sister, Elynor, was uncanny. A familiar ache pierced my heart at the thought. The pain was never too far away. I missed
my sibling so much and wished, just once, I could speak to her again. To hear her voice, her laughter, see her smile at something I’d said. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for Elynor and my being here proved that.

“Momma, is it time?” Darcy’s question snapped
me back from my thoughts and past memories. I knew I was biased; but in all my very long years and travels, I’d never seen a child like her. From the reports her mother told me, she was incredibly smart and at the top of her class in all things. Darcy also had a sweet nature, showing kindness to those around her, especially her friends and family. Pack members spoke fondly of her and I held on tightly to any stories I heard about her.

The sacrifices I’d made to ensure she had a happy childhood had paid off. She was completely unaware of any threats
or danger. I’d taken care of that by never being too far away; and even though she didn’t know about me, I would continue to protect her. That’s what uncles did, after all.

“Yes, honey. You can open your gifts.” Lynn smiled, casting a knowing look to where I stood, nodding. I appreciated her help with this. Selfish as it was, I couldn’t resist being part of today. Each Christmas
, from the day she was born, I’d sent her a gift– something from my travels that I hoped would make her eyes light up with wonder. Nothing was too expensive when it came to Darcy, the more exotic the better. Lynne had chastised me about spoiling her daughter, but I couldn’t help it. It was the least I could do.

Remembering earlier presents, a nervous flutter broke out in my chest. Faberge eggs, Japanese kimonos, porcelain dolls from Paris—Darcy had squealed with girlish delight over them.
Her delicate little fingers stroked carefully over the craftsmanship, her mouth puckered into an “ooh”. She’d twirled around, like the princess I believed she was, after putting on the kimono last year, repeatedly asking her father if he thought she was pretty. These were the memories I cherished; and the reason why, each year, I made sure there was a special box under the tree with the tag that read, “Love, Santa.”

Darcy scrambled to her knees, inspecting the pile of presents underneath the tree. I thought she would pick the first one she reached
or the biggest one; but judging by the look of determination on her face, she was looking for something special. I couldn’t help but smile. I knew which one she was searching for.

“Momma, I can’t find it.” She sounded close to tears as she rechecked the gifts. “It has to be here.”

“Pick one, Darcy,” her father interjected.

“But, I always start with Santa’s. Do you think he forgot?” She glanced about and spotted a large decorated box by the fireplace.

Pfft!
There was no way I’d ever forget. What I’d carefully chosen for her was too big to join the other wrapped surprises.

Chuckling, Lynne shook her head at her daughter’s excitement. “Santa loves you. He’d never miss visiting you
at Christmas.”

I studied Darcy’s face—her look of concentration
was priceless as she cautiously began peeling away the festive wrapping. I wondered how she could be so patient. Unlike most children, she didn’t simply rip apart the paper, discarding it to get to what was hidden inside. It was as if she cherished everything, even the large gold bow I’d placed on top to hold the tag. Once I’d noticed the care she showed over just the covering, I made sure I bought the prettiest and fanciest wrapping paper I could find.

“Momma, can you save the bow, please? I want to add it with the others.” Handing it to Lynn, something melted inside me. I hadn’t known that. I’d assumed Darcy threw everything away. Making a mental note, I’d made sure the bow next year was bigger, prettier, and better.

Her hands trembled slightly when the box was finally revealed. She paused for a moment, as if deciding how best to open it. Sometimes I liked to tease her by using a lot of sticky tape. Not this year. I was just as impatient for her to see what was inside as she was. Popping open the lid, there was a soft gasp before Darcy cried out with excitement.

“Look, look what Santa got me!” The lights from the tree reflected in her eyes, causing them to sparkle. “Oooh!”

As carefully as she could, Darcy lifted out the Venetian mask I’d brought home from my recent assignment in Venice. Packing peanuts fell to the side and I had to remind myself not to move. Never had I felt the need to join her as strongly as I did right then. I wanted to sit beside her and tell her about my travels and be part of her excitement, part of her life.

The small mask was exquisite. The
moment I’d seen it in the store window, I knew I had to have it to give to her. Pink in color, with golden highlights and scrolling, it was designed to rest over the wearer’s eyes, leaving the mouth uncovered. The decorative embellishment rested over the person’s forehead, like a fancy jewel belonging to a queen. Black and pink feathers were attached on the right side; the soft plumes complementing the golden ribbons that I imagined would trail over her shoulders. The mask hadn’t come with the carved stick for Darcy to hold it in place; but, for an extra price, the seller had obliged my request.

It had been worth every penny. I’d
have paid a million times more, just for the way she beamed with joy at her parents, her smile dazzling me. This was the bittersweet moment of my visit. I wanted to be included, but the timing simply wasn’t right.

“It’s beautiful,” Darcy gushed. “Santa
does
love me!”

“He does,” Dean answered, glancing at Lynn questioningly. I had no idea how she explained these gifts to her husband.
But, thankfully, whatever she said, he believed because she hadn’t talked to me about it.

“Honey, hold the mask up so I can take a photo for you.” Lynn gestured for Darcy to stand up, guiding her over the fireplace
to pose with her present. Tears welled in my eyes. This was another new thing Lynn had mentioned doing for me, something that deeply touched me, as I looked forward to receiving the keepsake.

Darcy all
but glowed, one hand on her hip and the other holding the stick so the mask covered her face. Pride shone from her eyes and I could all but guess that she was thinking that as soon as she was done opening her other presents, she’d race over to her best friend’s home and show her what Santa bought.

“Can we send a photo to Santa? I want him to see how much I love what he gave me. Maybe I can write him a
letter to say thank you, as well. Oh, and that I love him very much.”

There was no holding back the tears as I desperately tried choking back my emotions. There was a reason why I loved and stood as sentinel over this child. It wasn’t
just because of a promise to my sister, or because Darcy was family. It was because of the genuine sweetness in her heart. I would have followed her anywhere, given my life to protect her, regardless.

“That’s a perfect idea, baby girl,” her father answered, his own pride clearly displayed. “It’s always good to be grateful.”

“Let’s finish unwrapping your other presents and I’ll find you some pretty stationery. Sound good?” Lynn added.

Darcy seemed reluctant to put down the mask, her fingers trailing through the feathers one more time, a soft smile on her face. “Thank you, Santa,” she whispered, her words barely reaching me.

“You’re very welcome, dear heart,” I murmured in reply. My time as the Christmas voyeur was over; and once again, I wished I could linger longer.

Handing the mask to her mother, who placed it carefully in the box, Darcy accepted the next present her father placed in front of her. The moment had passed, that
one special connection we had every year at this time, when she believed I was that jolly man in a red suit.

Christmas was all about magic
; and as I turned to leave, I let myself believe that with Santa all things were possible.

One day I’d be invited
in as family, not the stranger who hid in the shadows.

One day, it wouldn’t be a thank you letter, but a hug full of love and warmth.

One day, the tag would read differently.

Love, Devlin.