Reindeer Games by Jet Mykles

plate, the icing clearly added after they were
    stacked, since it oozed unbroken over the whole stack. Still warm, with a little
    steam rising off them. Hadn’t Wod eaten yet? But the small forest green plate in
    front of Wod’s chair was as clean as the one in front of Lon. Surely he hadn’t been
    waiting for Lon? Maybe he’d only just stacked them when Lon emerged from the
    bedroom. But wait… “When did you order these?”
    Wod had opened the door of the oven to take out a familiar warming pot.
    Although most elves chose to eat in the common hall, anyone could order food to
    take home. Those with the high-pressure jobs—like the reindeer and Santa—could
    have it delivered. Lon had never enjoyed the luxury himself, but he’d seen food
    packed for delivery. “This morning,” Wod answered, bringing the pot and a clean
    mug back to the table.

    42
    Jet Mykles

    Lon glanced out the window at the sun in its glory. He’d never been good at
    judging time without a timepiece, but it still looked pretty early to him. “How long
    have I been sleeping?”
    “Don’t worry. It’s not that late. We’ll have you out of here in plenty of time for
    work.”
    That wasn’t what he was worried about. Both handlers and reindeer typically
    slept in, since the bulk of their jobs occurred at night. Lon spread his hands on the
    smooth pine of the table to either side of his empty plate. “Who delivered
    breakfast?” They lived in a small enough community that there was likely to be
    plenty of gossip if anyone found out he’d spent the night in Wod’s cottage. Who had
    delivered breakfast? Would they tell Rom? Had Wod talked to his friend? What if
    Rom had stopped by and found Lon there? That would have been awful!
    Wod chuckled as he poured fragrant brown mocha into the mug, filling the air
    with the scents of sweet chocolate and rich coffee. “Relax, Lon. No one knows you’re
    here.”
    Lon winced, realizing his panic wasn’t exactly flattering for Wod. “But you
    ordered for two.”
    Wod gave him a steady look as he set the cup by Lon’s plate. “It’s not that odd
    for me to have company in the morning.”
    Lon flushed and ducked his head. “No, of course not.” It was considered an
    honor to have spent the night with any of the reindeer. “But if Rom finds out…”
    Wod snorted as he refilled his own cup. “Lon, I assure you, it wouldn’t matter
    to Rom if you had sex with me. In fact”—he set the pot down—“it could help you.”
    “ Help me?”
    “Sure. I could tell him how good you are.” Passing behind Lon’s chair on his
    way back to his own, Wod leaned near to Lon’s ear. “Pique his interest.”
    Lon flinched, but Wod continued on to his chair. He sat, calm, as though he
    hadn’t just propositioned Lon. Again. Gazing at the expanse of his bare chest and

    Reindeer Games

    43

    the way loose waves of dark red hair curled over it and broad shoulders, Lon was a
    little hard-pressed to remember why.
    Rom . “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”
    Wod’s gaze didn’t lift to meet his as he sipped. Then shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
    Setting down his mug, he reached out to pluck the roll off the top of the stack. “Eat
    up. We need to talk about Project Rom.”
    “Project Rom?”
    “Yes.” Licking icing off his fingers, he handed Lon the full plate, then took the
    empty one. “We need to make a plan.”
    “We?”
    Wod grinned as he put another roll on the second plate. “I said I’d help you.”
    Slowly Lon set down the plate, gaping in surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”
    “I do if you hope to get anywhere with him.” Wod took a bite from his roll and
    finally met Lon’s gaze. “Because, frankly, you’re not going to get anywhere at the
    rate you’re going.” Dark eyes were calm and matter-of-fact as he chewed.
    Lon lowered his chin and concentrated on pulling an ooey-gooey piece of roll
    apart from the center. “I thought you said it was hopeless.”
    “Did I say