“Nope,” said Krampus, waving his hand. “Again.”

The tree in front of Ryan bristled as it grew back its branches and twigs.

“What was wrong with that one?” asked Ryan.

“I didn’t like it,” said Krampus. “Bit asymmetrical. Try again.”

Ryan put the safety mask back on and went back to trimming the tree.

Fifteen minutes later, Krampus waved his hand again and made Ryan try again.

“What’s the point of this exercise anyway?” asked Ryan.

“You’re building real muscles, from work, not from dancing,” said Krampus. “You can do a five to fifteen-minute set, great. The Ride lasts all night. You need to build endurance. That’s why you have to use those rusty ass clippers to trim these trees. When you can do that ten times in a row without fail, we can move onto other exercises. You know the drill. That’s why you had to chop trees for the first few weeks. That was easy, compared to this, wasn’t it?”

“Whatever,” said Ryan, going back to trimming the tree and making a mistake, lopping off a big branch of the tree on accident.

“You’re distracted,” said Krampus, waving his hand. “You’re thinking about that girl, or what you did to her grandma’s pies. Tell me, why did you steal the pies?”

“I wasn’t before, but now, I am,” lied Ryan, trimming the tree once Krampus’s magic had set. “I ate the pies. What else do you do with a pie?”

“Maybe you stuck your dick in it,” said Krampus. “I’m not one to judge. I’m a demon. I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit. You can stop for now. It’s time for another set of exercises.”

“Not the fucking rowing,” cursed Ryan, his mark burning.

Should know better by now than to curse, said Dancer.

What a stupid fucking rule, thought Ryan and his mark burned again. What the fuck? I didn’t even say it out loud that time! Ryan’s mark burned a third time.

Every reindeer makes rules for their ward, explained Dancer. I don’t like cursing. So fucking sue me.

Ryan put his gear back in the big tool shed and went out to the boathouse. He got the metal rowing boat, built to fit two bigger-than-average men, and the oars. He got the boat in the water and, once Krampus hopped in, Ryan started rowing.

“You know, if you want to get off The Naughty List, you have to do something really big,” said Krampus. “Something really big.”

“No hints as to what exactly I have to do?” asked Ryan.

“I’m the devil, not a guidance counselor,” said Krampus. “I’m not going to give you some aptitude test to tell you how to get your shift back.”

“Then why are we talking about this,” said Ryan gruffly.

“Were you this charming at the strip club?” said Krampus sarcastically. “If so, it’s no wonder you never found your mate.”

Ryan shut up and rowed harder.

“I’m telling you because you need to try and get off the list as fast as possible,” said Krampus.

“Hard when I only go to town for an hour a day,” said Ryan.

“You shouldn’t spend your time thinking about the past or a girl,” said Krampus. “You should be thinking about how to get your shift back. You know you’ll lose it forever if you’re not off the list by Christmas Day.”

“I know that,” said Ryan, rowing harder. “You don’t think I know that?”

“See? It is good to think about it,” said Krampus. “At the very least, you’ll work harder. Faster.”

“What did your last ward do to get off the list? What did Sean do?” asked Ryan.

“The same thing you will probably have to do,” said Krampus. “There are many ways to get off of The Naughty List, although one is simple and easy…and yet it never occurs to any of your dolts to do it. Don’t try calling him for hints, either. He knows better than to fuck with Fate.”

“What if Fate wants me to call Sean?” asked Ryan.

“Then Fate wouldn’t’ve made you open your fat mouth just now, and you wouldn’t have gotten cursed,” said Krampus.

Krampus lifted a hand in the air and drew a symbol that floated in mid-air. He pushed it onto Ryan’s chest.

“What the fuck was that?” asked Ryan.

“Now you can’t use electronic communication devices until the day after Christmas,” said Krampus. “Don’t fuck with a demon. But, I’ll let you stay out in town longer. If pissing you off makes you work harder, you won’t need the extra training anyway.”

“Whatever,” grumbled Ryan.

They reached the dock. Ryan quickly hitched the boat to the pier.

“Very efficient,” said Krampus. “Still mad?”

“No,” said Ryan. “I just want to get this over with ASAP. Isn’t that what your little lecture was about? Efficiency?”

“So moody,” said Krampus, looking at his nails that managed to look manicured even though he ran a frikkin’ Christmas tree farm.

“You saying you wouldn’t be if you were in my shoes?” asked Ryan.

“First of all, I’ll never be in your shoes,” said Krampus. “My kind don’t have fated mates. Secondly, if I were in your position, I’d play smarter, not harder. But you do you, kid. You do you.”

Krampus walked up the dock stairs, and Ryan sullenly followed behind his demon master.

Angelica was working the cash register when a shirtless man came up to the counter. She’d only ever had the one shirtless customer up here on The Wreath.

“Can I help you?” asked Angelica.

“Donut,” said Ryan. “And a cup of joe. To go.”

“Alright, one donut and one cup of coffee for ‘the Big Bad Wolf’ — or should I say, ‘the Big Bad Bear.’ You sure you wouldn’t rather have a slice of pie, flown in special from my grandma’s window sill?” sassed Angelica. “Card?”

“Shit,” cursed Ryan, and his chest burned.

“I’m kidding,” said Angelica. “Avery told me about the special account. You know you can order anything, right? Your boss, I guess, our boss, Santana, pays the bill.”

“Donut. Joe. And I guess a sugar cookie,” said Ryan.

“Boring order, but it’s your stomach, not mine,” said Angelica.

“I’m not here to talk to you, Angelica,” said Ryan. “I’m here to do something.”

“Fine,” said Angelica. “Not like I wanna talk to you either.”

“Good, so it’s agreed,” said Ryan. “Fine.”

“Fine!” said Angelica, nearly shouting, and catching herself before she was too loud. “Here.”

Angelica had given Ryan a sugar cookie, but she’d also put broken cookies pieces in the bag, from the shattered cookies that wouldn’t be sold but stayed on the tray until the next batch of cookies was put out.

“I love cookies, so thanks,” said Ryan. He mushed the entire donut into his mouth, ate it in two bites, and took his coffee and left.

As soon as he reached in to grab his cookie, a cloud of sugar cookie dust emerged from the bag and covered him with white, sugary, sticky dust.

“Aww, fuck!” shouted Ryan.

He looked through the bakery window and saw Angelica laughing so hard she had had to take a seat.

Two could play at that game.

Ryan walked back into the cafe. He walked past Angelica, into the kitchen, where Krampus and Avery were having some spat of their own. He looked around the kitchen and spotted it.

Round. With a flaky golden crust. Full of deliciousness. It was a pumpkin pie. It was labeled with a note saying, ‘Reserved for Angelica.’ Ryan was looking for just any pie to steal, but one reserved for the woman that pranked him, the woman who had captured his heart all those years ago? That was the pie he had to steal.

“Ho-ho-ho,” said Ryan, taking the pie.

“You can’t take that,” said Avery, reaching to stop him, but Krampus stopped her with a hand on the shoulder.

“His funeral,” said Krampus. “Tell me you don’t want to see how this plays out, you goody-two-shoes.”

Ryan left the kitchen, pie in hand, note on the pie.

“Hey, Angelica,” said Ryan, showing her the pie. “Put this on my bill.”

Angelica looked up from the case, where she was restocking peppermint shortbread cookies.

“Oh, no,” said Angelica. “No, you didn’t! Ryan! You stop that! That’s my pie!”

“Is it?” asked Ryan. “Guess you can just…put it on my tab.”

Ryan walked out of the bakery. Angelica didn’t even bother to hang up her apron.

“Damn it, Ryan,” said Angelica, chasing after Ryan in her work clothes. “You can’t just steal someone’s pie?”

“What are you gonna do about it?” asked Ryan, holding the pie high up above Angelica’s head, lowering it so that it was mere centimeters away from where she could just touch it if she jumped. “Prank me with more cookie crumbs?”

“That’s my frikkin’ pie, Ryan!” said Angelica.

“Don’t see a name on it,” said Ryan, tearing the label off and littering.

As he littered his mark burned.

Aren’t you trying to get off The Naughty List? asked Dancer.

Come on. She started it, said Ryan.

You can finish it. Be the Nice one, Dancer encouraged Ryan. Be the bigger Christmas tree.

Yeah, no, said Ryan.

Ryan held the pie up to his face and licked it.

He licked right across the beautiful, nearly smooth surface of the pie.

“Oh, no you didn’t!” shouted Angelica, beating Ryan’s chest with her fists.

“Oh yes I did,” said Ryan, taking a handful of the pie and rubbing it on his chest. “Isn’t that what you wanted, Angelica? To get me all dirty and covered in delicious pastry? Well, you got your wish! Merry Christmas!”

“Of course you’d ruin my Christmas,” said Angelica, reaching into the pie and grabbing a handful to mush into Ryan’s hair. “Merry frikkin’ Christmas, Ryan!”

As Angelica reached up to grab Ryan’s shoulders and leverage herself up to push pie into his hair, she slipped. She hadn’t worn the right shoes. She’d left her boots in the employee lockers.

Angelica fell backward. Suddenly, a pair of arms reached forward and pulled her upright.

Then she was falling again. This time, forward.

She landed on something hot and hard, surrounded by something cold and soft.

Ryan had caught Angelica, but he’d slipped too, falling backward into a big pile of snow piled up next to the patio area.

Ryan cradled Angelica’s waist in his hands. She was big, yes, but she was delicate. She wasn’t a shifter. He had to be careful with her, even if he didn’t like her. Even if he thought the words that came out of her big, luscious lips and her sexy mouth were too sassy. Even if he thought she was so curvy, it ought to be illegal.

Angelica was straddling Ryan’s waist, and her face had planted right on Ryan’s chest. She’d gotten to eat her reserved pie after all. It was hot, sticky, and sweet…and she didn’t spit it out.

Everything had happened so suddenly. She’d felt scared for a split second, then, confused, and then, safe. She hated Ryan. She knew she did. So why did the feeling of his strong warm arms around her body make her feel safe and secure? Why did the heat of his body, keeping her warm in the snowbank, make her feel like giving him a second chance?

And why did she feel something thick and hard between her legs?

Angelica pulled her face away from Ryan’s chest.

“Eww, is that a boner?” asked Angelica.

“No,” replied Ryan. “It’s just that big.”

Ryan scented out Angelica’s arousal and smiled to himself. He still had it. The BBW hadn’t even been able to hide her desire for him. He could scent her arousal – just as he had all those years ago when she’d caught him skinny-dipping in the Nuthusk Forest.

“As much as I’d like to leave you two lovers to your devices, Ryan does need to be getting back to Camp Kringle,” said Krampus. “Come on. Those trees won’t trim themselves.”

Angelica quickly got up and brushed herself off. Her cheeks burned red as she saw Avery was behind Krampus!

Ryan left with Krampus, but not before saying one thing to Angelica, looking over his pie-covered shoulder.

“Tell your grandmother, ‘Merry Christmas, from Ryan,’ will you?” asked Ryan.

“Frikkin’ puppy love,” said Avery as Krampus and Ryan walked away. “At least it must be nice to have a roll in the hay with your crush…or, a roll in the snow.”

“He’s not my crush,” said Angelica, blushing.

“Didn’t look like you weren’t interested in him,” said Avery.

“It was about the pie,” said Angelica.

“There are ten identical pies in the fridge,” said Avery. “There’s only one Ryan. That’s what you chased.”

“Am I getting suspended?” asked Angelica.

“Of course not,” said Avery. “No punishment for defending your pie. I get it. Never get between a BBW and her pie. Plus, you got punished enough already.”

“Yeah, having to touch Ryan,” said Angelica.

“No, I mean, you have pie all over your face and hair and front,” said Avery.

“No,” said Angelica, looking down before reaching up to touch her face and hair. “No!”

“Nothing a lil’ water can’t get out,” said Avery. “Take a long early lunch.”

“Fuck you, Ryan!” Angelica shouted out toward the metal boat that had already left the dock. “Sorry, Avery. Please don’t fire me for that.”

“Whatever helps you vent,” said Avery. “I just doubt he heard it, just like I doubt anyone recognized it was you cursing at Ryan, Mrs. Pie-Face.”

As Ryan rowed away, he did hear it, and he smiled.