“‘What do you have to be thankful for this Thanksgiving?’ What kind of a speed dating question is that?” asked Holly, looking over the list of speed dating questions. “I swear, I don’t know how you ran this business without me, Rowan.”

A lot had changed since Rowan claimed Holly. She’d moved out to Seattle to be his full partner in the matchmaking business. They split all the profits fifty-fifty — but that also meant Holly had to put in the work.

Sometimes, the work was fun — baking up batches of jack-o’-lantern shaped cookies for a Halloween masquerade in a fancy mansion — and sometimes, the job was not so fun. When she had to write the same words over and over for the speed dating question cards, she always ended up getting hand-cramps.

“Riddle me this — would you want to go on a date with someone who had nothing to be thankful for?” asked Rowan. “It’s a way of weeding out the people that, uh, don’t exactly enjoy the holiday spirit. Plus, think about it this way. If neither of the two people in the pair have something to be thankful for, maybe they belong together.”

“Aww, that is cute,” said Holly. “Alright. It’s silly, but…give me a second.” Holly took the gold metallic paint marker and wrote the question down on the pumpkin colored notecard in front of her. Each table would feature one question, displayed prominently via the cards.

“And…that’s all of them,” said Holly, capping her marker and putting it back into her cup of fancy pens. She organized the cards into a stack and made the pile of messy cards into a neatly organized prism. She passed the stack to Rowan.

“Thank you, m’dear,” said Rowan, taking the cards. With Holly’s hand still in his, he pulled her closer to him and kissed the top of her forehead.

“The Clan Alpha really asked you to do this?” asked Holly. “That’s a big responsibility, isn’t it?”

“He probably thinks that hosting a speed dating event after Clan Marron Thanksgiving will prevent more of us younger folk from getting into trouble and having to be sent to The Wreath,” said Rowan.

“Speaking of being Naughty, we did finish these a lot earlier than scheduled,” said Holly. She ran a hand down Rowan’s chest. Even in a casual white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, Rowan managed to look sexy. The fresh haircut he’d gotten at a stylish barbershop in their hip downtown neighborhood didn’t hurt matters in the least.

“‘We?’ I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who had to do all the writing,” said Rowan. “I think it’s time for me to put in some work.”

Rowan picked Holly up from her seat. He carried her to their bedroom. His previous bachelor bedroom had been transformed into a luxury lover’s pad by Holly. Rowan placed Holly on the soft red satin sheets. Then, he walked over to the dresser.

“What’re you doing?” asked Holly with a frown.

“By now, you should know I’m a master of romance,” said Rowan. He opened the cardboard box on top of the dresser. He took out the mason jar candle and a box of matches. He put the candle in a safe spot on the furniture and lit it.

Holly sniffed.

“What is that?” asked Holly. “It smells good — but ‘yummy’ good, not like, ‘rose petals and jasmine’ sexy good.”

Rowan watched as the candle quickly melted down, leaving behind a pool of oily liquid. He blew the candle out and waited a minute.

“Never say I don’t ever do anything crazy for you,” said Rowan. He picked up the candle and faced Holly.

“Rowan, what are you — no!” shouted Holly, as she watched Rowan pour the hot contents of the candle on to his body. Rowan didn’t react to the heat. He put the candle down and rubbed the oil over his body.

“What? Rowan, are you burned?” asked Holly.

“Do I feel burned?” asked Rowan, sitting next to Holly.

Holly didn’t think about whether or not she’d get burned. She reached out and touched Rowan’s chest. It was warm to the touch, but not fiery hot as she’d expected. The substance on his chest was oily and it smelled good, real good. It was spicy and sweet at the same time. She could scent out cinnamon and cloves, with cardamom lingering in the background, and just a hint of vanilla.

“Is that…pumpkin spice scented?” asked Holly.

Rowan took Holly’s hand and put one of her fingers into his mouth. “Try it.”

Holly licked Rowan’s chest, swirling her tongue around the nipple. To her surprise, the oil also tasted like pumpkin spice!

“Rowan, what is this stuff?” asked Holly.

“It’s a new product developed by one of the couples I matched up. It’s a combination candle, massage oil, and lubricant. Each flavor smells as delicious as it tastes,” said Rowan. “Only problem is, people don’t quite know how to use’m properly and keep burning themselves. You could say this is for advanced lovers only.”

“It’s a lubricant, you say?” asked Holly, reaching down through Rowan’s pants to see if he was hard. Of course he was. He was practically always hard around her.

“Holly — I said I was going to take care of you,” said Rowan.

“Oh, no, mister — you should know better than to get between a BBW and her pumpkin frikkin’ spice,” said Holly. “Get me more of that icing — err, that lube. Mama’s hungry.”

“Well, when you say it like that…” started Rowan with a wicked grin. Rowan got up and took the candle, which had cooled down by now. The flavored lube oil still sat in a pool on the top of the candle. He put the candle on the end table closest to Holly.

Holly flipped Rowan’s cock out of his heart-patterned boxers. Rowan’s cock was already topped with a droplet of precum. Holly flicked her tongue out like a snake and had herself a little snack.

“Hmm,” said Holly, licking her lips. “It’s salty…but I prefer sweet.”

Holly dipped a finger into the lube. She rubbed the lube over her lips and then drew her finger to the tip of Rowan’s cock, drawing a line of lube between her lips and the tip of Rowan’s cock. She slurped the line up like a strand of spaghetti and pressed her tongue against the softest part of Rowan’s hardness.

Holly took Rowan’s cock in her hand and massaged the shaft, moving up and down, up and down, tickling his balls with every stroke down.

“Fuck,” moaned Rowan, leaning back and gripping the sheets.

Holly bobbed her head up and down on Rowan’s cock, feeling it harden between her lips and beneath her tongue.

Rowan scented something. It wasn’t the sweet and spicy smell of the pumpkin spice lubricant. It wasn’t his own sweat. No — it was something muskier, primal, and familiar. It was Holly’s essence, a sure sign of her arousal, and he brought his cock to a point.

“Fuck, babe, you really like this,” said Holly, licking up Rowan’s candy cane.

“There’s only one thing missing,” said Rowan.

“What is it?” asked Holly.

Rowan pulled Holly up from the floor. He kissed her lips and grabbed her thick, ample waist in his hands. Then, he lifted her up so she was around his waist, her slit just above his cock. Rowan sat down on the bed and turned Holly around, so she was facing his feet, and then, pulled her back, her cunt above his face, Holly’s face facing Rowan’s shaft.

“This,” growled Rowan.

Holly was still regaining her bearings as Rowan went in. His tongue hit her clit like a bolt of lightning zapping through an autumn thunderstorm. His lightning hit her peach tree and split her peach in two, his tongue separating Holly’s folds to find the source of her sweet juice.

“Fuck, Rowan,” moaned Holly.

“I told you, babe — you did all that hard work. I might have bad handwriting compared to you, but, these fingers can do other things well, real well,” said Rowan.

Rowan dipped two of his fingers into the candle and took out the solidifying lubricant. It turned to soft but solid wax around the tips of his fingers as it hit the air, fusing his digits together. Rowan pressed his fingers into Holly.

Rowan knew Holly’s body as well as he knew his speed-dating schedules. He knew just where to find her special spot, the one place he could massage and send her body over the edge, making Holly howl like a madwoman along the moors in a Gothic romance novel. He pressed against her G spot with his fingers covered in the solid wax.

“Ooh,” moaned Holly. Rowan was a man who knew what to do with his hands, but the wax covering the tip of Rowan’s fingers was bulbous, like the tip of a sex toy. She felt her body clench around Rowan’s fingers.

Rowan licked Holly’s sex. Soon enough, it started to taste of spices. The wax was melting inside of Holly’s body, turning back into flavored lube. With every stroke back and forth, Holly’s body rubbed against Rowan’s waxy fingers like a tongue running over a sweet lollipop.

Rowan slipped in a third digit as Holly’s flower bloomed around the two fingers already inside of her body. He used his other hand to move the nectar from her hole to her clit and he sucked at her clit, desperate to drink up every last drop of her essence.

The feeling of Rowan’s fingers in her canal and his mouth against her clit drew Holly to the edge and then, with one last lick, Rowan pushed her over the brink of the cliff of desire and into the wild seas of pleasure.

Holly came at the same time as Rowan. She let out a moan on to Rowan’s cock just as he came. His cum splashed her in the face. She wiped her face off and lay down next to Rowan.

“Fuck,” cursed Holly. “I think that should be enough to keep me satisfied until tomorrow night.”

“Trust me — Clan Marron Thanksgiving will have you tuckered out,” said Rowan. “Sex will be the last thing you’re interested in, after a full day of helping set up Thanksgiving dinner and stuffing yourself with, well…turkey and stuffing!”

Rowan took Holly’s hand in his.

“You know…don’t take this the wrong way, but…” started Rowan.

“Our hands are gross,” Holly finished. “Agreed. You first. My legs are still shaking.”

Rowan got up and quickly washed his hands in the bathroom.

“All yours,” said Rowan, coming out of the bathroom.

“Aww, and here I was, hoping you were ready for round two,” said Holly.

“Who says there’s not going to be a round two?” asked Rowan.

“Point taken,” said Holly with a smirk.

Holly washed her hands in the sink and came back out to see Rowan, sitting on the side of the bed, with an orange velvet box in his hands.

“Okay, more surprises?” asked Holly. “I feel like any time I turn away for a second, you’ve got a new toy to try on me. What is it this time? Anal beads?”

“These beads aren’t for your butt,” said Rowan, popping open the box. Inside, there was a silver necklace with six gold beads on it.

“Rowan…it’s gorgeous,” said Holly, sitting next to Rowan. On the necklace, there were six golden beads. Each bead had a wave pattern engraved on its surface. On each bead, a swan was hidden in the grooved design.

“You really like it?” asked Rowan.

“How could I not? It’s perfect,” said Holly. “Plus, it won’t get in the way when I’m baking! I only have one question — why swans?”

“Remember the time I fought that Easter bunny for you?” asked Rowan. “That happened on the sixth of December. You know how the old song goes. On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…!”

“I, uh, actually don’t remember how that song goes,” admitted Holly.

“Holly! You better be careful, or you’ll end up on The Naughty List,” teased Rowan. “On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, six swans a-swimmin’.”

“So much has happened since that fight,” said Holly, fingering the beads of the necklace. “I can’t believe I thought that you thought I was an ugly duckling…when of course, you saw me as a swan the whole time, even when I couldn’t see it myself.”

“And so much more is yet to come,” said Rowan. He removed the necklace from the box and turned Holly around. He sat her down on his lap and put the necklace around her neck, gently lifting up her hair to seal the clasp.

“How does it look?” asked Holly, turning to face Rowan.

“Nowhere nearly as beautiful as you,” said Rowan, giving Holly a kiss on the cheek.

“You really got to grow up here?” asked Holly, looking out the window at Nuthusk’s Main Street.

The shops were shuttered for Thanksgiving, as all the small business owners would be at the Clan Marron Thanksgiving feast or at private meals with their families. Holly spied a little ice cream parlor on a corner, a florist’s shop, and a handful of boutiques selling everything from tourist junk to handmade jewelry and clothing.

“This is where I ran wild,” said Rowan. “You don’t have to answer now, but, what would you think of moving here?”

“Moving here?” asked Holly. “But it feels like I just moved to Seattle.”

“Seattle’s nice, don’t get me wrong,” said Rowan. “It’s just…this is where I’d want my kids to grow up.”

“Your kids?” asked Holly. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I want to start trying, right after we get married,” said Rowan. “I wanna do everything right, Holly. I want to do everything in the right order. I want to put another ring on your finger, buy a place here, have some kids, and raise’m right.”

“You mean let’m run wild?” asked Holly.

“Exactly,” said Rowan.

“I shouldn’t be saying this so soon, but, I’m in,” said Holly. “There’s just something about this town that gives me a familiar feeling.”

“What kind of feeling, my curvy duckling?” asked Rowan.

“The feeling I had when I realized you were the one,” said Holly. “I think I’m falling in love with Nuthusk.”

Ten minutes later, Rowan pulled into the Clan Marron lodge’s parking lot. Rowan got out of the car and went to Holly’s side to open her door for her. They went to the back of the van and started to unload the baskets of homemade treats they’d made during their last matchmaking event, a singles cooking class.

As they came back to their car to grab their final batch of baked goods to carry into the lodge, they heard a honking sound.

“Woah, stand back,” said Rowan, stopping Holly with his hand.

“What is that thing?” asked Holly.

“I have no frikkin’ clue, but it doesn’t look like anything we want to mess with,” said Rowan.

A large truck had pulled into the Clan Marron parking lot. It consisted of a large cab, big enough to seat at least five people, maybe six, with what looked like a standard cargo trailer. Inside, something was angry. Thunderous roars were coming from the trailer.

A tired-looking woman came down out of the cab, followed by four men, and made a beeline for Rowan.

“Hey,” said the woman from the truck. “Rowan. It ended up being harder than we expected.”

“So he’s in there?” asked Rowan. “You really managed to track down Kevin frikkin’ Murphy, equal parts forest ranger, hermit, and bad boy?”

“He’s less of a bad boy now, and more of a bad bear. We’ve got to get him inside, to the council chambers,” said the woman from the truck. “We can’t let the Christmas secret get out. Otherwise, they’d just deal with him out here.”

“What’s going on?” asked Holly.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” said the woman from the truck. “The name’s Emily, Emily Hu. My job is to…”

“Wrangle the bad boys of Clan Marron for the Clan Elders, who make sure Krampus takes them up north to avoid getting mate madness,” said Holly. “I know. I’m guessing this one’s already succumbed?”

“It’s not full-blown mate madness, but, it’s close,” said Emily. “We have little time.”

“Go, go, vamos,” ordered Holly. “We can talk about this later. “Y’all have a job to do. I’ll go help keep people away from the truck.”

“Rowan, where on Earth did you find her?” asked Emily. “She’s an angel. Alright. We’ve gotta bounce and deal with this wild man.”

Emily and Rowan ran to the back of the truck, where Emily’s four mates and Jasper Jackson were prepared to catch whatever they found in the back of that truck. There was a familiar Christmas demon in a tailored suit, his chain in hand, ready to wrangle whatever came out that trailer. Holly smiled. Whoever or whatever was in that trailer was going to have one Hell of a Christmas.