Page 14 of Rebel Without a Claus
CHAPTER 6
Eve
The world isdarkat five in the morning. Dark, freezing, and entirely too cruel to be awake in. As I drag myself out of my car, my breath puffs in front of me in visible little clouds, swirling in the crisp morning air. I clutch my coat tighter around myself, muttering curses against every life choice that has led me here. What kind of person willingly wakes up at this ungodly hour? Alunatic. Or, apparently, a reindeer farmer named Luke Dawson.
The farmhouse glows warmly against the predawn sky, its yellow light spilling onto the frost-covered porch. Before I can even knock, the door swings open, revealing a tiny, silver-haired woman in a thick knit sweater and an apron dusted with flour. The scent of cinnamon and coffee wraps around me like a blanket, and for a second, I forget about the icy misery of the hour.
"Eve! Sweetheart!" A loud voice exclaims from the open doorway of the farmhouse.
"Aunt May?" I ask, surprised. "I haven’t seen you in years!”
Even though she isn’t my Aunt May, everyone in Holly Ridge calls her that. She’s everyone’s aunt. Though, only truly Luke’s biological aunt.
Just as I step onto the porch, she pulls me into a hug before I can protest. "Well, don’t you look just as bright-eyed as you did in high school. Come in, come in—before you freeze to death."
I let myself be ushered inside, sighing in relief as warmth floods over me. I’m immediately hit with the sweet scent of muffins. “You’re still baking up a storm, I see."
She chuckles, patting my cheek affectionately. "Someone’s gotta keep this grumpy farmer fed. Speaking of which—here." She presses a steaming mug of coffee into my hands, and I swear I could kiss her.
"Bless you," I whisper, inhaling the glorious, life-saving aroma before taking a careful sip. It’s perfect—hot, strong, and just sweet enough to remind me of Christmas mornings.
"Just don’t let Luke work you too hard," Aunt May says, shaking her head. "He can be a bit… particular. Especially when it comes to his prized reindeer. Which is ironic since he never even wanted to be a farmer in the first place.”
"I’m standing right here," a deep, unmistakable voice grumbles from the hallway.
I turn, and there he is, looking far too handsome and bright eyed for this ungodly hour. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me with an expression that says he already regrets letting me step foot on his farm. His flannel shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, revealing strong forearms dusted with hints of sawdust or hay. He’s rugged and rough around the edges, and entirely too good at scowling before the sun is even up.
"You’re late," he announces, shattering the sexy illusion.
I glance at the clock. "Bytwominutes."
"Might as well be an hour."
"You’re in alovelymood this morning."
"And you’re what?” he asks as he pushes off the doorframe and moves over to grab a muffin from the baking tray. “Pure sunshine?”
Aunt May smacks Luke on the bicep before handing him a coffee. “Be hospitable, Lucas.”
I take another deliberate sip of coffee, examining him from over the lip of the coffee mug. “Yes,Lucas. Be hospitable.” Then, leaning over him, I grab a muffin for myself and whisper. “And we both know, I’m a delight.”
“You won’t be once we start chores,” he grunts.
I raise an eyebrow, pretending to be unfazed. "How bad could it be?"
Luke smirks like he knows something I don’t. And, well… it turns out, hedoes.
How bad could it be?Well… the answer is:really, really bad.
I thought I’d be brushing reindeer or feeding them hay. Picking a few eggs out of the henhouse and putting them in an adorable wicker basket. Something cute and picturesque.
But no.
Instead, I’m standing in a drafty barn, my boots sinking into something questionable, while a row of goats stare at me like they know I don’t belong here.
Because we all know I don’t.
"What are we doing in here?" I ask, hugging my coat tighter around my torso, already missing my cozy bed.
