Marrying Miss Kringle: Lux Page 3
He’d known volunteering to help with that silly pageant was a mistake. He should have walked away from the whole darn thing. He would have, if he hadn’t spied Lux off to the side, unrolling a coil of wire and looking so beautiful in her mismatched mittens and her hair bouncing behind her in a high ponytail. She was young and fresh and so very serious.
And she smelled like mint cocoa.
Of course, he hadn’t figured that out until they were in the church’s back room installing a new electrical box. The old one was a fire waiting to happen. Her fingers flew through the tasks, twisting wires together and labeling circuit breakers. When she concentrated hard, her tongue poked out between her lips. It was adorable and distracting.
He let the blinds snap back into place. The last thing he needed was a distraction—especially one who had a project. He had two jobs—stay alive and stay off the radar.
A woman like Lux? She could light up his radar like a Christmas tree.
Which was the perfect reason to forget about her. He cracked the blinds again. He’d do just that—as soon as she got off his property.
* * *
Lux didn’t hear the crunch of snow under her boots. She did see Dunder snort and shake his antlers at Quik’s door. His anger on her behalf endeared him to her forevermore. Lux splayed her fingers over her stomach. She wasn’t planning on taking off again so soon. What the nutcracker just happened?
“So that would be a ‘no.’” Frost sniffed. She screwed her pixie face into a scowl.
“Don’t do that—your face will stay that way.”
The wrinkles and creases around Frost’s nose and mouth melted away. “It feels weird anyway.”
Lux tucked her laptop into the storage compartment. She’d never been spoken to in such a manner. He’d slammed the door in her face! Not even the mean girls in her freshman dorm were so rude. Of course, they were more the “throw verbal darts behind your back” than the “say it to your face” kind of people. She never thought she’d miss their whispers, but it was easier to ignore spiteful whispers from petty girls than it was to ignore a door in your face. A slammed door nonetheless. Even more disturbing was that she’d thought Quik a friend, and he’d been undeservedly gruff with her. Had she really been nervous about seeing him? About sparks tingling in her chest when they met again? There were sparks, all right—angry gray and ugly black sparks. Those were not nice sparks. If Ginger were here, she’d put Quik on the Naughty List. After the way he treated her, Lux might just do it herself. She wrote the program; she could easily hack in and switch Quik over.
“This whole thing is weird.” The dark green velvet inside the sleigh was soft and warded off the chill that Quik’s irritated un-welcome sent over Lux’s shoulders.
“I thought you said he was nice.” Frost threaded the reins through her fingers. She shed her gloves as soon as Lux got back in the sled.
“He was. At least … I thought he was.” Lux massaged her temples.
Frost tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Could this have been one of those times you didn’t read social cues?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” They’d flown right into the yard. He’d jumped like she’d poked him with a candy cane. “I think we scared him.”
“Us?” Frost squeaked. “We are Kringles. We are not scary.”
Lux chuckled. “You don’t think Stella’s scary?”
Frost pressed her lips together. Saying not-nice things about her sister was difficult for her. “She can be intense.”
Intense like a hurricane. “Yes, she can.”
Frost braced her foot against the front of the sleigh in preparation for takeoff.
“Wait.” Lux touched her arm. “You’d better stay on the ground until we’re out of sight of the cabin.”
“Oh—good idea.” Frost flicked the reins and they glided across the snow.
Lux turned in her seat to watch the small homestead recede behind them. The house was exactly double the size of the barn. The wood sat piled with precision along the east side of the house. The garage was locked. The buildings were neat and tidy. Most homesteaders up here had a yard full of tractors, trucks, snowmobiles, and four-wheelers that they harvested parts from. Fences were uneven and the chicken coop leaned. Not here. Here the area was clear of debris, and the fence was taut and straight, made from posts of the same size. If there were chickens, she doubted they dared peck when or where they weren’t allowed. It was all very … organized … practically military in precision.
“What are you going to do now?” Frost yelled over the wind. Dunder may have been on the ground, but he was gaining speed.
“I’m going to have to design it by myself.”
“Can you do that?”
“I don’t have a choice.” Lux pulled the blanket over her lap. “Maybe my old professor can check the math.” She hadn’t wanted to involve the university. They hounded her to come back and teach or submit a project that would bring in grants. As much as she loved her time at CalTech—despite the freshman trolls—she wasn’t interested in living the academic lifestyle. She preferred her quiet life of scientific discovery. Besides, the work she did would impact every child who believed in Santa. That was bigger than department meetings and university politics.
Frost pressed her lips together as she steered them through a canyon of boulders. Dunder jerked to the left and was suddenly in the air. Lux screamed and dove for the blanket.
“He’s doing his best!” Frost yelled.
“That’s what scares me,” Lux returned. Although, now that she had to design the substation on her own, she had a sleigh-full of empathy for the reindeer. The worst that could happen if Dunder didn’t get off the ground was a crash. If she didn’t get the substation up and running before Stella found the man of her dreams, the digitized Naughty and Nice Lists, the toy-making machines, and the candy factory would all come to a screeching halt. Christmas would be ruined for children all over the world. Lux sank into the seat and made a mental note to give Dunder a carrot when they got back to the stables.
Chapter Five
314 days until Christmas Eve
“No!” Lux pounded the bedside table, making the lamp tremble. She grabbed her cell phone and pushed the talkie button on the side. “Stella?”
“Stella here.”
“I need your … mad skills.” Lux groaned. Research shouldn’t be this hard.
“It’s the day before Valentine’s Day—I’m messaging five different guys here.” Stella snapped her gum.
“Shouldn’t take you long if you’re as good a hacker as you claim to be,” Lux shot back.
“Ten-four. What’s your location?”
Lux rolled her eyes. Stella made everything a game. When they were kids, she could make folding clothes and cleaning the bathroom seem fun. Having another website block Lux was not a game she was happy playing. “I’m in my room.”
“Copy that.”
Lux dropped her phone on the lavender bedspread and sat up, dragging the laptop onto her legs. She tried the bookmarked site again, only to have it flash on the screen and then disappear.
Valentine’s Day? She checked her online calendar. She needed to make a Valentine for Layla and set an alarm to remind her to deliver it.
“What’s up, buttercup?” asked Stella as she sashayed into the room. Her black pixie hair had silver tips on the end that matched the buttons and zippers on her leather jacket. Besides the metal accents, black fringe ran from one wrist to the other. Her black leggings also shone like leather, and her red top hung low enough to expose a black tank underneath.
Lux furrowed her brow. “Please tell me you’re not dating a Hell’s Angel.”
Stella cocked a hip out to the side and smiled. “Okay, I won’t tell you.”
Lux shoved her glasses up her nose. “Either you don’t want to get married and are dating the wrong guys, or you’re trying to date as many as you can before you have to settle down. I’m not sure which—do you know?”
 
; Stella shrugged. “Axel may look rough around the edges, but he has a good heart, and he’s been on the Nice List his whole life.”
“Axel?” Lux lifted one eyebrow.
Stella reached for the computer. “I don’t think it’s short for anything.” She started typing, only half listening to Lux.
“That wasn’t the point.” Lux rubbed her neck muscles. She’d been at the computer for hours, checking and double-checking her schematic against what was online. One wrong-sized wire or missed grounding switch could send too much magic into their system and blow it out. That would shut down the North Pole and send Christmas back to the dark ages. Children weren’t likely to be overjoyed to receive hand-carved horses and dolls instead of computer game consoles and plastic dolls with multiple outfits.
The situation wouldn’t be so intense if they weren’t on the verge of an overload already. Ginger and Joseph fed the magic a daily dose of true love. No love was as unpredictable as young love. One day they’d be humming along nicely and the next they’d have sparks flying. Lux chewed her lip. What would it feel like to make those sparks? One-fifth of the love that fueled Christmas Magic resided in her heart. Sharing it was the only way to keep the magic going. She had the ability to create sparks like that with someone. The knowledge was both powerful and frightening.
Cinnamon sticks! If tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, they’d have a surge for sure. “We have to shut down tomorrow. Toys, List, the kitchens, anything that uses Christmas Power.”
“Are you kidding?” Stella turned her face, but her eyes were glued to the screen.
“No. If you so much as give Axel a peck on the cheek, you’ll kill every machine in your workshop.”
Stella flapped her hand, uncharacteristically unconcerned about losing a day of toy-making. “Fine. I’ll shut it all down.”
Stella had a date. Ginger and Joseph would be together. Mom and Dad. Robyn might have someone new; Lux hadn’t checked in with her for a while. If she charged her laptop, she and Frost could hang out. While chilling with her baby sister was fun, it wasn’t the Valentine’s Day Lux yearned for in her heart. She wasn’t much for flowers or gifts—although chocolate was always a good idea—but why couldn’t she have someone who wanted to see her on the day the world celebrated love?
“You’re officially on a government watch list.” Stella’s words yanked Lux away from her lack of social life and back to her bedroom, where Star Wars and superhero posters lined the walls.
“What?” She grabbed the screen and turned the computer so she could see the information better. Stella had tracked the signal that blocked her back to Langley. “Fudge ripple. They think I’m a terrorist.”
“Probably.” Stella lifted one leather-clad shoulder.
Lux closed her eyes. On her desk was an almost complete blueprint for a substation. Without those websites, she’d be sunk. “Now what?”
Stella bounced to her feet. “You know what you have to do,” she sing-songed.
Lux slammed the laptop shut. “I’m not going back there. He’s impossible. Rude.”
“And he dresses like a homeless man,” added Stella.
Lux held her fist out for a bump. “Thank you.”
“And you like him.” Stella bumped her fist.
“Who could ever love a … a …” Lux scrambled for a word she could use.
“Grinch?” supplied Stella with a smirk. She headed for the door but stopped before leaving. “And who said anything about love?” With a wink, she disappeared.
Lux glared at the open door. “Last time I call her for help.” The worst part? Stella was right. Not about loving Quik—that was ridiculous. She barely knew the guy. Love wasn’t an option. She kind of thought he was cute—until he slammed his door in her face. That had lowered his cuteness factor to a two, with ten being the highest. Her sister was right in that she had to go back to Quik’s. She needed his help now more than ever.
Chapter Six
313 days till Christmas Eve
The dark can be peaceful. In the middle of a frozen lake, with a blanket of stars and a pillow of fresh snow, nighttime was downright pretty. Quik hadn’t been able to sleep well lately.
Thoughts of a red-haired woman, frightened and bewildered by his outburst, haunted him at night. He’d wake up with her minty chocolate smell in his nose and the sense of something magic dancing across his skin. During the day, he could keep busy enough to keep his thoughts where they should be—far away from Lux. But at night, his subconscious made up for all that lost time, and she invaded his dreams.
He tipped his head back and looked out through the small window of his fishing shack, taking in the moonlight on the lake. Moments like this, Quik could believe there was goodness in the world. He set his line and caught a trout within a minute. Fresh meat was always appreciated in the dead of winter. He could have snared a rabbit or two, but fish weren’t as greasy, and he liked the lighter fare after eating jerky and beef for a couple of weeks.
He smacked his hands together a couple times to keep the blood circulating. Man, it got cold fast. Especially after reaching in the hole to pull out his catch.
The small woodstove in the corner was just starting to heat up. He’d filled it with tinder and kindling when he first arrived. There was enough of a flame going he could add a log or two. That’s all the stove would hold, but it was enough to get this small space nice and toasty. The ice fishing shack was a project that had kept him from going crazy last winter. He’d spent hours drawing up the plans, checking and double-checking the calculations just for something to do. The actual building process took much longer. Using a hammer and nails was therapeutic in a way, using nothing but his strength and ingenuity to bring his vision to life.
His cabin had a much larger stove. Hailing from Southern California, Quik faced the real possibility that he may never get used to Alaska temperatures. Living here would be much more bearable if he had someone warm to snuggle up to at night, and in the morning, and the middle of the afternoon. He smiled to himself. Lux certainly was a warm body. She practically radiated heat. How she didn’t melt right through the snow was a mystery.
Not that she was what he would consider “hot.” She didn’t wear tight dresses or high heels or even lipstick. And yet she was an undeniable beauty that held his attention. Perhaps if he could figure out what exactly she did that captivated him, he’d be able to put the fascination aside.
He liked mysteries. Always had. His brain was wired to find patterns and connect the dots, which had helped make him one of the top engineers in his field. That was a different life, one he had run away from as fast as he could.
Shoving aside thoughts of Lux and running, he checked his bait. Once he was satisfied with the setup, he kicked his legs up on the piece of wood nailed to the wall just for that purpose and settled back into his camp chair to watch the low-hanging moon move across the sky.
Twenty minutes later, the stove was burning hot, and Quik was feeling drowsy. He should open a window. Getting too hot was just as dangerous as getting too cold. He wanted to care about being warm, about the sweat that trickled down his cheek. His eyelids were so heavy and he hadn’t been sleeping. Just a little rest, and then he’d open that window. He glanced at his line and then let his eyes fall shut.
Chapter Seven
Lux steered the sleigh through the Alaskan wilderness. She’d landed in Clearview under the cover of darkness and stuck to the ground. Dunder was happy flying or on the ground. He was good like that, and she appreciated the way he made long arcs around bumpy patches.
At 9 a.m., the sun was just barely coming up, and she was only halfway to Quik’s solitary cabin in the woods. Lux was a quiet person—introverted, some might say. However, the thought of living away from all people like Quik chose to do was like putting on an ugly, itchy Christmas sweater. What made a man want to be so alone? Pride? Stubbornness? That could certainly be the reason. He was stubborn. And sometimes he wasn’t very nice. Maybe he’d decided to remove
himself from polite society because he wasn’t polite.
She sighed. He’d been fine at the church. His behavior turned South Pole when she’d surprised him. She hoped he was awake now. She didn’t want to surprise him with a knock on the door if he was still in his pajamas. Surely Quik didn’t sleep all the dark hours away. No one could sleep for that long and not turn into a lump of coal.
Quik was anything but a lump. He had strong arms under all those layers; she’d felt them once while they were working on the church. Her foot had slipped and she’d grabbed onto him to keep from landing on her backside. What she’d felt under those flannel sleeves had stolen her breath away.
Lux reached the edge of the lake and skirted the bank. This time of year, the ice on top would be at least two feet thick, but Dunder didn’t like ice—he usually flew right over the top of a frozen lake or river. The reindeer was older and set in his ways, and she wasn’t going to change them with one sprint across a lake, even if it would save them half an hour.
Lux’s thoughts went back to the shut-in she was going to have to convince to come out of his cabin. Or let her in. That would work too. In fact, getting inside his cabin was the goal. She’d worked too hard on these plans to roll them out in the snow.
Up ahead, the entrance to Boulder Canyon, as she’d decided to officially name it, loomed. The trees in this area were thick, obstructing the view of the lake. Just before they reached the canyon, the trees disappeared and a stunning view was laid out before her. Not far off the bank was a fishing shack with smoke billowing out the pipe through the roof. She didn’t want to attract any attention and wished she’d kept the bells off Dunder’s harness until they were closer to Quik’s.