Page 68 of Rebel Without a Claus
That earns me a glower so sharp it could cut tinsel. But here’s the thing: he’ll put the sweater on. He’ll grumble and complain and probably mutter something about the downfall of his masculinity, but in the end, he’ll do it—because Luke Dawson may hate sequins, but he loves this. Loves the work. Loves that people are listening to him. Loves that he gets to make a difference in the lives of his fellow farmers.
And… he loves me.
Though right now, you wouldn’t know it based on his scowl.
“It’s in the middle of July,” he snaps.
“Yes, but these introductions are going to be woven into the filming we do this winter on location on the actual farms all around the country. And this segment is a town ugly sweater party… So you need to look cold.Andfestive.”
“Fine,” he mutters finally, grabbing the sweater and yanking it over his head with all the grace of a bear wrestling a tent. “But if this thing sheds glitter on my beard, I’m burning it.”
I grin, unable to stop myself. “Merry Christmas to you too, Santa.”
Before Luke can even finish grumbling about the glitter, Blitzen decides to make a scene. Again.
The reindeer lets out a grunt, plants her hooves, and refuses to budge while the handlers tug on her lead. A cameraman tries to angle around her, and Blitzen takes that as an invitation to lower her head and swipe the boom mic with her antlers. The crew scatters like it’s a charging bull.
“Someone bribe her with candy canes!” I call, juggling my clipboard and a roll of gaffer tape as if that’s going to help.
“She ate all the candy canes!” my AP calls back.
Luke rushes in like the reindeer whisperer he is, pulling carrots out of his pockets for her. Blitzen calms down, taking the snack from Luke’s palm as my boyfriend grabs hold of her reins, gaining control back. Luke just shakes his head, mutteringsomething that sounds suspiciously like, “This is why I liked farming better when nobody was watching.”
I laugh nervously, but inside, my stomach is already twisting. A lot is riding on the success of our two new shows. The network wants to build more off of them, but we have a lot to prove first. And our town needs this. The businesses have been thriving and it’s all thanks to the new production studio. My parent’s lodge is bursting at the seams with tourists, the crew is pulling twelve-hour days, and now Holly Ridge isn’t just Holly Ridge anymore—it’s a brand, a set, a business. And I’m supposed to be the one holding it all together.
What the hell is taking Selena so long? I’m about to run down to the office myself to grab more candy canes when a strong hand tugs mine.
“Hey.” Luke’s voice is low, calm, steady. It cuts through the noise better than any megaphone. He pulls me just off to the side of the square, away from the chaos of cameras and cables.
“Luke—” I start, my brain still running three lists at once.
He squeezes my hand. “What do you say you, me, and Blitzen take a break? I think we all need a five.”
I blink up at him. His eyes are warm, not the icy blue the rest of the town thinks belongs to a permanent grump. Right now, they’re molten.
“I can’t take a break right now. There’s a million things I still have to do. The tree doesn’t have the star on top. Kraft services hasn’t finished setting up yet. Sound check hasn’t been done?—”
“Eve, breathe,” he says simply. “You’ve done enough.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “You mean I’ve done enough panicking for one day?”
“I mean you’ve done more than enough, period.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles, rough but careful. “Look around, Eve. You did this. The inn’s booked solid. This town’s buzzing like it hasn’t in decades.” He hesitates, like the words are heavy, butthen they fall out anyway. “You carved out a life for us that has the best of not both worlds, but all worlds. I still get to work with my reindeer and help Aunt May. We get to live in our hometown, but still travel the world while doing fulfilling work we both love. None of this would have happened without you. And me… You gave me back more than I ever thought I’d have. A reason to get up in the morning. A reason to give a damn.”
The lump in my throat is instant. I blink too fast, trying not to tear up on camera. “Luke…”
He shakes his head before I can protest. “You’re not failing. You’re not falling short. You’ve already done it. You saved the inn. You saved this town. And hell, you even saved me.”
I breathe out, slow and uneven, and for the first time all day the frantic buzzing in my head quiets. The chaos is still swirling around us—Beside Luke, Blitzen is chewing on the tinsel from Luke’s ugly sweater—but in this little bubble Luke’s made for me, I can finally breathe. “You’re right,” I say. “Let’s take five.”
He squeezes my hand, his mouth twitching with that half-smile that’s all mischief and steel. “Good girl, Songbird.”
Heat skitters through me at his words, at my nickname, and before I can retort, he tugs me gently down the hill, away from the cameras, the chatter, the chaos.
Beneath our feet, the faux snow of our set changes to lush grass. Waiting at the edge of the property is my dad’s old sleigh, polished to a shine and dressed up in garlands like it knows today is something special. Only one reindeer is hitched to the front—Princess Sparkles, the calf I helped birth last December. Except he’s not so small anymore, his coat glossy, his dark eyes alert.
“Princess Sparkles!” I gasp, instantly breaking into a grin. He nuzzles me like he remembers, and I scratch behind his ears, my chest aching with a sudden, unexpected rush of affection.“Are we using him in today’s filming? I didn’t see him on the schedule.”
Luke’s watching me, his expression softer than I’ve ever seen it as he hitches Blitzen to the sleigh beside Princess Sparkles. “Nah. I just brought him out to socialize him a bit. I think he’s going to make a great addition to our petting zoo for when kids come to the farm.”
