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Chapter 11: Christmas Toys

December 11, Saturday

Seattle, Washington

Bella

Two weeks until Christmas, and I'm out on a Saturday afternoon looking for what has been dubbed the hottest toy of the season.

Clearly, my idiocy knows no bounds.

I've gone to four stores already, and absolutely nothing. The last store had given me the tip about a more recent shipment, and I've run two nearly-red lights to get here before they sell out too.

What the hell is so special about an animatronic baby yoda anyway?

I head downtown, cursing the insane parking rates down here. I hadn't planned on coming here at all, assuming everything would be sold out.

I park in a garage in between blocks of shops, praying that somewhere in the mile radius around me, I'll be able to find this damn toy.

The shops are insane, even more so than the streets, and the sound of Christmas carols being piped through the store speakers are no longer cheery to me; no, they are battle cries. I'm in my element, ready to fight tooth and nail for this toy.

I am not going home without it.

I head immediately to the front desk. I'm no fool, they won't have that toy sitting out where anyone can just grab and hoard it. No, they are going to be careful about dooling it out, so I'm going straight to the source.

There is a line up front—how people can already have returns this early in the season is beyond me—but I have a purse full of chocolate candies and a bottle of water. I can be here all day.

It takes almost half an hour, but eventually I finally get up to the front desk.

"Hey," I greet the haggard looking employee behind the counter. He looks like he's seen some shit today. "Busy day," I say, glancing around. At the register next to me is a pissed off looking man, glaring at his phone while he apparently waits for another employee to help him. If he's anything to go by, these employees have been severely abused today.

The employee behind the desk looks surprised to hear me engaging in small chat, and he nods, glancing around us conspiratorially. "You have no idea," he sighs. "It was worse last night."

I bring a hand to my heart. "You're working back to back?"

He nods. "Full tilt until Christmas. Too much demand," he sighs. I shake my head.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry. I hope people are at least being courteous."

Behind me, an old woman huffs because I'm clearly taking too long. I ignore her as the employee—Ben—gives me a thin smile.

"What can I help you with today?"

I take a deep breath. "I'm actually hoping that you might have any of those Baby Yodas left," I whisper, leaning toward him. He winces.

"I don't think so."

I sag. "Really? Shoot, it's for this Toys for Tots drive." I shake my head. "It would mean so much to the kids to get one of those toys."

Ben frowns. "You know what? Let me just double check, okay? It can't hurt."

I light up. "Oh thank you, you have no idea what this means to me!"

Ben smiles as he steps away from the help desk. Behind me in line, a bunch of people start complaining as they watch him walk away. I don't fucking care, because I'm one step closer to getting that damn toy.

At the next register the scowling man starts drumming his fingers on the counter. I shoot an annoyed glance in his direction. His bronze hair is slightly ruffled, like he's been running his hand through his otherwise perfectly styled locks. It makes him look much more delicious, even despite the annoyance rolling off him in waves.

My eyes briefly snag on the line of his shoulders. Mmm, they look strong. My mouth starts to water just looking at them.

I look back at the counter in front of me, trying to pull my mind out of the gutter while I wait for Ben.

It takes almost fifteen minutes, but then I see Ben with another employee heading back to the front desk.

To my shock, Ben has a Baby Yoda in his arms.

"Ben, you're my hero!" I cry, as soon as he steps up to the registers. He blushes.

"It's the last one," he tells me.

"Wait a goddamn second," the angry man shouts next to me. We all turn to look at him. "That's my toy!"

I arch an eyebrow at him. "A bit old to be playing with toys, aren't you?"

The look he gives me is nothing short of withering.

"And how you managed to get Ben here to search for your little toy isn't a little juvenile?" His eyes flash towards me, and they're not filled with a jovial Christmas sparkle that only seems to bless certain people this time of year.

"I don't believe there is anything juvenile about being nice," I sniff.

"Nice. Is that what they're calling it these days?" He turns to look around him to gauge the reactions of the people around him.

"Yes, nice. Perhaps you haven't heard of it. You must have missed that day in school."

"I miss nothing," he says with a shake of his head and a self-righteous smirk on his face. He turns back towards Ben behind the counter, who is looking like he would rather melt into a puddle on the floor like Frosty instead of having to deal with us right now. "Including deals on holiday toys that were specifically saved for me. I'll have it gift-wrapped. Thanks."

He reaches into his wallet to pay for Baby Yoda, which he unconvincingly thinks belongs to him.

He doesn't know who he's messing with today.

"Ben," I say, reaching out to the poor guy. "Don't let this Grinch bully you. He's obviously an entitled prick, and it's guys like these that make the holiday season hell for all of us." I shoot a glare at him. "I know you are wanting this to go somewhere where it's going to bring true Christmas joy. This Scrooge wouldn't know Christmas joy if it bit him in the uptight ass."

"She's right," the man concedes with a sullen look on his face. I'm not buying it. "I am a prick. And I know you really don't want to see more of me today so just give me the Yoda and we can all move on, okay?"

"I'm not sure if that's a threat or a pick up line," Ben panics, his eyes shooting back and forth between us.

"Is that how you flirt?" I ask, shooting the guy a look. "Are you trying to set up a threesome?" He's good looking, even despite the ugly scowl across his face. He's the sorta guy that I wouldn't mind a spin on, especially if I never had to see him again.

"If you have to ask, then you have your answer." His eyes leave Ben's for the first time since he handed him his credit card, and he pierces me with a gaze so green it reminds me of fresh Christmas trees. "You would know if I was asking."

"You don't strike me as the asking type," I say, shifting against the counter to face him. I fold my arms under my boobs, well aware of what it's doing to my cleavage. "You seem like a man who takes what he wants." I feel his eyes land on my chest, and while he's distracted, I slip my credit card to Ben.

"And you seem like a woman who would recognize that in a man," his voice, deep and smooth, betrays the tone of indifference he seemed to be going for earlier in our confrontation. Now his body has unconsciously leaned closer to where I stand, and even though we're both aware of the onlookers behind us in line, and poor Ben standing behind the register as he watches this showdown play out in slow motion in front of him, it doesn't stop the tall stranger with copper hair from taking me in.

I take a deep breath, and I see his eyes flicker down my body again. He really is gorgeous. Too bad I have no time for a quick romp with his angry ass. I bet he'd deliver in all the right ways.

I can't help it, my eyes drop down to his hips, trying to see if I can catch a glimpse through his unbuttoned coat. He shifts, and my eyes lift to his to see a satisfied smirk on his face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ben slide my credit card and receipt toward me.

"Thanks, Ben. Maybe you could help my friend here find some other Christmas toys to play with? Because both of these toys are sold out."

I grab my credit card and the Baby Yoda, shooting the now red-faced Grinch a wink. "Merry Christmas!"

And with that, I turn on my heel towards the exit, my laughter filling the store like jingle bells as I hear the tall stranger let out an exasperated, "What the fuck, Ben!"

Who could this tall handsome stranger possibly be? And how soon can we line up to play?

Tomorrow, we want to see pictures of your best (or worst) gingerbread house attempts. Not into gingerbread houses? Show off any house shaped decoration you care to!