All by My Elf (Under the Mistletoe collection)

2

“That’s the rule.

And the Mincemobile is still scheduled for the DC parade Christmas morning, so as soon as Mrs.

Clauds has been dropped off at her family’s house, you and Will-YUM will need to hop back on the interstate and get north as quickly as possible.”

After they’d hung up, William had raked a hand through his wavy brown hair and sighed. “More like Ruth less .”

“That woman is entirely without ruth,”

Nina had agreed. And when he’d smiled, her blood had promptly effervesced in her veins, fizzing with excitement and the sort of lust she hadn’t experienced since the early days of her ill-fated former marriage. “Even the Baby variety. Oh, the irony.”

It was also a tiny bit galling to report to a woman almost ten years Nina’s junior.

But since Ruth had hired their trio for the entire month and was paying each of them the same amount they earned for teaching a semester-long course, as well as reimbursing hotel costs and providing a decent weekly food stipend ...

Well, Nina could shrug off the indignity of it all. Even when she had to wear her slightly-too-tight-across-the-boobs elf costume and pointy-toed booties. Even when Ruth insisted on still calling her “Nutmeg Nina,”

her company-approved Treater name, with no members of the public in earshot. Even when company rules forced her to engage—for “experiential marketing”

purposes—with random guys through open windows and freeze her substantial ass off.

Even when she had to watch William and Claudia get cozy in the back.

The light turned green again, and the first cars in line started to move. She gave SUV Guy another cheerful wave, more than ready to roll up her window and defrost. But just as the brake lights on the pickup truck ahead of her went dark—

“Hey!”

SUV Guy jabbed his forefinger in the direction of her vehicle’s fiberglass-phyllo dick. “Mine’s bigger!”

The sound of laughter drifted from inside the SUV as it peeled away and turned left at the light.

Behind her, William muttered an unintelligible remark, his tone uncharacteristically grumpy for such an even-tempered man. In response, Claudia said something that sounded like, “Then just do it already,”

and Nina had no clue what that meant.

Was he working up the nerve to ask whether he could stay with Claudia overnight, despite Ruth’s warnings? Because Nina would say yes.

She’d deal single-handedly with the parade, and damn the possible professional consequences.

Her best friend since the first semester of grad school worked unbelievable hours, was brilliant and kind and funny, and deserved some happiness.

Nina wouldn’t stand in her way.

Yeah, sure, she’d told Claudia about her crush on their new university colleague one night over half-priced cocktails.

But her bestie was the living embodiment of the absent-minded-professor stereotype at the best of times.

And once Claudia got drunk, her retention of any information not relevant to ancient Roman gender and sexuality went from iffy to nonexistent.

She didn’t remember Nina’s confession from two months ago. Not her fault.

Nina didn’t feel betrayed. Just ... sad. A little lonely, too, but that was probably the season more than anything else. Claudia had her close-knit family within driving distance. William might not be tight with his, but he had Claudia now. And Nina ...

Well, her own family was back in Michigan. And maybe she’d try a dating app soon.

Closing her window, she continued straight through the traffic signal and shook her head. “I’m not certain all the guys who say ‘Mine’s bigger’ fully understand the size and maximum capacity of a human vagina.”

William choked on his reusable bottle of water and started coughing. Claudia reached across the center aisle to thump his back.

“Not to mention the laws of physics,”

Nina’s best friend agreed. “If your dick’s the size of that giant phyllo phallus we’re hauling around the greater DMV area? Good luck getting a ride in anything smaller than a tractor trailer, my dude.”

She and Nina had each heard the Mine is bigger! thing a couple dozen times now.

In the week or so they had left, they might hear it a dozen more.

At least this guy hadn’t flashed his penis or mooned them, because they’d seen enough unexpected dicks and butts for a lifetime by this point.

William, in contrast—with that neat, dark beard accenting his sharp jaw; the warmth crinkling the corners of his intelligent eyes when he smiled;

and the startlingly strong frame under the thin knit of his favorite sweaters—had personally been shown more bare breasts than a float at Mardi Gras.

Not that he ever reacted in any appreciable way, other than looking elsewhere and denying his flashers the attention they wanted.

Exactly as Treater Training had instructed.

Sometimes, Nina wondered how he’d react if she flashed her boobs too.

Not that she would ever behave so unprofessionally toward a colleague, especially not if he and Claudia were hooking up, but ...

until the last couple of days, she could have sworn he might’ve let his stare linger on her instead of turning aside.

She could have sworn he was interested. In her. Not Claudia.

All Treaters dealt with the public.

From the beginning of this assignment, though, they’d split their other tasks.

Claudia handled social media posts and online communication, while William managed their schedule and served as their contact person for the local media—print, television, and radio—in each town they visited.

Smart assignments for both, since Claudia’s absentmindedness meant giving her control of their penis-topped behemoth would be a terrible idea, and William vastly preferred walking or taking public transportation to getting behind a wheel himself.

By mutual agreement, then, Nina had assumed the lion’s share of the driving from day one.

And from day one until approximately forty-eight hours ago, William had ridden shotgun beside her whenever possible.

Over endless miles, they’d groaned together about the university’s system of compensation and how they’d all needed to fill the lengthy gap in pay between the last fall-semester paycheck and the first spring-semester paycheck.

Which was why, late last October, when Mrs.

Claus’s Mincemeat Treats had contacted their history department colleague for an interview about the mincemeat pie tradition in the UK, then mentioned needing seasonal help for their newly acquired Mincemobile, kindly Professor Jain had steered the company toward hiring adjunct-instructor colleagues instead of grad students.

Nina and William had also laughed a lot. Over their initial awkwardness in setting up their tables and handing out coupons and branded magnets during their first few grocery store visits. Over the corporate directive to call public events “mincemeat and greets”

and coax selfie smiles from Mincemobile visitors with a hearty “Say ‘Suet!’”—even though the only version of the pies to still contain actual ground sirloin and beef suet was the traditional “Roast Beast” variety.

The two of them had shared teaching tips and favorite student stories.

They’d even had a few lengthy conversations about how their academic interests intersected with their current job.

As someone whose graduate research focused on post-Reconstruction US economic history, she’d shared what she knew about the promotion of Christmas as a commercial, sales-focused holiday in Gilded Age department stores.

In return, he’d shared his own knowledge of Christmastide traditions in colonial America.

And over time, he’d touched her increasingly often as they spoke. Laid a hand on her arm to catch her attention. Nudged her knee with his whenever something amused him. Steered her toward the driver’s seat after a rest break with a warm, gentle hand on her lower back.

She’d thought . . .

It didn’t matter what she’d thought. William was with her best friend now. Claudia had even left the women’s shared hotel room to visit his for an hour or so last night. To “chat.”

At least there hadn’t been any PDA.

Not even any hand-holding.

Watching actual physical intimacy between them would have hurt too much for Nina to easily disguise her reaction.

And she might be sad for herself, but she was glad for them. Truly.

Besides, this weekslong road trip would end soon enough.

The final Mincemobile event was on New Year’s Day.

After that, she might spot him at the library cubicle farm or see him on her best friend’s arm, but at least she wouldn’t be stuck inside the same vehicle as the happy couple for hours at a time.

Eight more days and counting.

“Five-minute warning!”

she called out, since traffic was finally clearing. They’d be arriving at Claudia’s parents’ home shortly.

“Thanks, Nina.”

Claudia sounded tired. “I’ll get my shit together.”

William didn’t respond, so Nina glanced over her shoulder at the next red light to check whether he’d fallen asleep.

He was awake—and staring directly at her, brown eyes intent behind his glasses.

She had no idea how to read his expression.

And once he turned his attention back to Claudia for more hushed conversation, Nina vowed to stop trying.

When Nina put her coat back on, William helped her into it, which was very gentlemanly of him. After grabbing her purse, she zipped up her boots and hefted one of two overloaded paper bags, while he took the other.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Ko,”

she said sincerely. “This is amazing.”

The Ko family might not celebrate Christmas as Nina’s own parents did—with a big tree and lots of reindeer figurines everywhere—but, as Claudia had informed Nina, her parents expected all their kids with time off for the holidays to come home.

Accordingly, Mr. and Mrs.