Page 20 of Rebel Without a Claus
“All I want for Christmas is—” we whip around to face each other, her eyes twinkling, her smile spread wide across her face as we sing at each other for the big finish.
“—Is youuuuuu!”
The song ends, and the crowderupts. Aunt May is on her feet cheering along with Eve’s parents… and to my dismay, almost everyone else in the bar is whistling and clapping.
I grin at Eve and shrug. I have no idea if it was enough to save her performance to secure the title… but at least she isn’t near tears anymore.
Eve rolls her eyes at me with a smile so grudging it almost looks real. “What happened to you never singing again?” she whispers, just loud enough for me to hear over the applause.
“Some things are just too painful to witness,” I tease her back. “You clearly needed the help.”
“Hey!” She laughs and jabs me in the ribs with her elbow.
“You’re welcome by the way,” I shoot back, leaning in with my mouth barely off the mic.
The emcee elf is back on stage with us, taking the microphone from me. “A little rocky start there for Eve Winters, but anyone who gets Holly Ridge’s own Lucas Dawson to step up and sing a Christmas song cannot be ignored!”
The pink of Eve’s cheeks turns crimson as she curves her arm around my elbow when we exit the stage. "Thank you," she whispers in my ear before pulling back with an embarrassed laugh that makes butterflies flap against my insides. "I'm pretty sure you saved my life.”
“That’s a little dramatic, wouldn’t you say?”
“Fine… then you at least saved Christmas.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m still smiling at her. “Farmhands stick together.”
Her brows arch. “Oh? Does this officially make me a farmhand now?”
I shrug, my eyes catching a glimpse of Gemma’s ashen face, jealousy stamped across it. She takes one last look at us before stomping toward the exit. “Well, pissing Gemma off is a pretty good consolation prize, too,” I joke.
Eve turns to me, eyes bright, breathless. “You really are such a good singer, Luke.”
I smirk. “You weren’t so bad yourself, songbird. As long as you’ve got me there to guide ya.”
She laughs, but definitely doesn’t argue with me. “It’s a shame you stopped singing.”
Her smile drops as we both fall silent and I feel her sharp inhale beside me. Almost like she just realized what she said.
I swallow the lump lodged in my throat. “There wasn’t much to sing for after…”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there that night,” her voice is shaky but full of heart.
“It’s okay,” I say, my voice gruff with emotion that surprises me. But… is it okay? I’m not even sure that’s true. All I know is that I’m in trouble. Big, stupid, irrevocable trouble.
Because even after all these years, Eve still has me wrapped around her little finger tighter than garland around a banister.
And what’s worse? I think I like it.
CHAPTER 8
Eve
Morning comes far too early, and I am absolutely dead on my feet. If I’d known helping Luke on the farm for two weeks meant being up before the sun, I might have reconsidered.
This morning, though, I got to sleep a whole fifteen minutes later because we’re doing deliveries in town.
When he showed up outside the inn with a thermos of coffee and a raised eyebrow, I could have kissed him.
Wait. Scratch that. Suddenly that catch phrase is just too real.
