Page 13 of Rebel Without a Claus
Her lips disappear into a thin, white line. “Ummmm…”
“Do you know how bad sugar is for her?” I tossed the candy cane into the trashcan beside me as Blitzen gave an irritated chuff.
“I googled it and it said in moderation, it would be fine.”
“Andfiftyis your definition of moderation?”
Her cheeks warm to a rosy shade of pink and she at least has the good sense to look momentarily guilty. Just as quickly as Ispot it, it vanishes. “It worked, didn’t it?” She gestures to Blitzen, who’s still standing there calmly, looking far too pleased with herself. “Besides, I switched it up with apples and carrots too. But shereallyloves the candy canes.”
I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. “Unbelievable.”
“Admit it,” she teases. “You’re impressed.”
I scowl. “I admit nothing.”
She smirks, and I hate how much I notice how damnprettyshe looks when she does that. Even in that ridiculous elf outfit, she manages to be the most distracting thing in town.
Before I can say anything else, she thrusts Blitzen’s reins toward me. “Anyway, I guess I’ll give her back now. But don’t worry—I’ll see youbright and earlyat the farm tomorrow.”
I stare at her. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she says cheerfully. “I start work tomorrow. To pay off the eight reindeer we’ll be renting.”
I shake my head. “Eve?—”
She steps into me, folding her arms. “You and I made a deal. AndIupheld my end of that deal,” she says, her face suddenly stern. “I already told you, Luke. We needallthe reindeer for the festival. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
I glare at her for a long beat, then finally sigh. She’s right. A deal is a deal. “Be at the farm at five-thirty.”
“Wait.Five-thirty in the morning?”
It’s my turn to smirk. “Yep.”
She blinks, clearly recalculating all her life choices. “That’ssoearly.”
“Farming starts before sunrise, princess.”
She groans, muttering something under her breath which I promptly interrupt. “If it’s too early for you, we can call the whole thing off.”
She squares her shoulders. “Absolutely not. Five-thirty it is.”
I nod. “Good. And no candy canes.”
She flashes a mischievous smile. “No promises.”
I sigh. Tomorrow is going to be alongday.
I watch her walk away, the bells on her shoes jingling with every step. A group of kids run over to her and hug her around the waist. Laughing, she bends down and poses for some pictures and I hate to admit that my frozen heart warms at the sight.
Just a little.
I look at Blitzen who’s sniffing around my pockets for more candy canes. “Don’t even think about it,” I mutter as I lead my reindeer back over to the trailer.
Days on the farm are usually really dull. So maybe—just maybe—having Eve there will be… I don’t know. Fun?
Or maybe it’s a disaster waiting to happen.
With Eve Winters, it’s almost certainly the latter.
