Marrying Miss Kringle: Lux

by McConnell, Lucy

  “It’s dark.” Quik stepped from foot to foot.

  “That’s what happens when the sun goes down.”

  “It’s cold.” His breath puffed.

  She smiled a knowing smile. She had made it through the day without telling him about Christmas Magic or the enchanted Kringle bloodline. Had she spilled the jelly beans, she could have been banished from the North Pole. As a man of science, he wouldn’t have believed her anyway. “Yep.”

  “You know what?” He shook his gloved hand at her. “You’re strange.”

  Lux laughed like she hadn’t laughed in years. The sound was joyful and triumphant. She’d turned Quik into … well, not an admirer, but a friend. That was something to be happy about. “Thanks.” She gave him a quick hug and climbed into the sleigh, taking up the reins.

  He stepped up to the sled and placed a hand on the driving bar to keep her from taking off. “Why do I feel warm when you hug me?” he asked.

  Lux laughed again. “You’ll have to figure that one out on your own.”

  “What’s next?” He leaned against the sleigh, and his shoulders relaxed, the enchantment taking the chill off the night.

  “I’m going to build a prototype.”

  “That’d be interesting to see.”

  “I’m afraid I made a bargain never to darken your doorway again.”

  A note of sadness rang between them.

  “Listen, Lux …”

  She didn’t want his pity. He was her first friend outside of her family for quite some time, and though she could feel the temptation to see if there could be more, she wasn’t about to push him into it—not when Christmas was on the line. “It’s okay, Quik. I’ve taken advantage of your generous hospitality for too long as it is.”

  His face fell. She meant to sound teasing, to flirt, but her words had been too close to the mark. She flicked the reins and Dunder headed north at a trot.

  “Town’s the other way!” yelled Quik, his hands cupped around his mouth.

  “I’m not going to town. I’m going home. Stay out of trouble!” she called as his home receded from view. He waved once and ducked back inside. Lux faced forward.

  She’d gotten exactly what she’d come for, so why did she feel empty inside?

  Quik. The emptiness was Quik’s fault. The time they’d spent with their heads bent together over the plans had been the most enjoyable, the most fun, the most spirited … sucker sticks, was there anything hotter than a man who could do calculus in his head? He said he wasn’t Tony Stark material, but she’d be willing to bet her Avengers Blu-ray library Quik could out-math Tony any day. She allowed herself to get all warm and zappy over him for a brief moment.

  Then, slowly, deliberately, she pulled out the memory of the moment he offered her the bargain. I help you, you leave and don’t come back.

  Needing as much distance as possible from Quik and his cozy cabin in the woods, she flicked the reins. “On, Dunder!” she called, her voice catching on his name. He didn’t need any encouragement. With a mighty leap, he took them into the sky and headed toward home. She braved a glance behind her as Alaska faded from view. A sense that she’d left something important behind itched at the edges of her mind.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Quik would have liked to stand out in the cold and watch Lux drive away, just to see if she waved before she took the turn, but the cold was too much. He hurried into the house and let out a breath that had been trapped in his stomach. The world wasn’t as cold when Lux was around. Even standing near her sleigh was warmer than being alone.

  He pulled off the scarf she’d given him. His red one, a gift from Ginger last November, was lost, probably in the fire. When he’d gotten dressed to see Lux out, she’d pulled a navy-blue scarf from that bag. That bag! A ragged olive-green messenger bag fit Lux to a T. He couldn’t imagine her carrying a red leather purse like Ginger. The image was disturbing. So was the number of items Lux pulled from the bag that hung as if it were empty.

  He picked up the mug Lux had left behind, washed it in warm water, and set it on the shelf next to his mug. A smile tugged at his lips. He gave in and just grinned. His tin cup was blue with black specks. Lux’s had Thor’s hammer on the side. He chuckled, remembering their banter about Tony Stark and Bruce Banner.

  She was … something.

  What had he said? She was strange. That was a good line—he berated himself. He may not know much about women, but he knew enough to know he’d said something stupid. Thankfully, Lux hadn’t seemed all that offended. She was good like that: easy to get along with, didn’t take herself too seriously.

  He sat down at the table. She took the substation seriously though—soaking in every word that dropped from his mouth and applying it with amazing speed. Her mind was like a supercomputer processing at the speed of light.

  He shifted in his seat and his foot kicked something by his chair that landed with a thump. He scooted back and saw Lux’s textbook. He reached for it and paused when he spied a folder with his name on the tab.

  Gathering everything off the floor, he dropped it on the table and stared. He shouldn’t read things that didn’t belong to him. Then again, his name was on the folder. Whatever it contained was his business.

  Scratching his chin, he flipped open the folder. A picture of him and his sister sitting on Santa’s lap stared back at him. “What …?” He stared, trying to remember when this was taken. He had to be four, which meant his sister was six. The Santa was jolly, his beard real, and his blue eyes full of Christmas mirth.

  Emily had on a red dress and a pair of white tights. Quik looked closer and saw a grass stain on her knee. That brought a smile to his face. His sister wasn’t one to wear a dress often. He wondered what Mom had bribed her with that day.

  His attention turned to his younger self. Chubby cheeks, hair shaved on the sides and a little longer on top. It was straight back then. He still had the cowlick in the back. Wearing his hair longer helped tame that. He tugged on his beard. Emily wouldn’t recognize him if they passed on the street. A weight settled in his stomach. He wouldn’t be seeing his sister again—not for a long time, if ever.

  The next page had a heading that read: List Report, Matthew Thomas Quik.

  He sat up straighter, his gaze focusing like a sniper’s.

  Nice List until age 12.

  What followed was a detailed list of what he’d asked for each Christmas until he stopped writing Santa. Behind that page were his letters, the handwriting improving over the years. The last two letters were typed. Writing Santa was an assignment in his keyboarding class. Mrs. Mist loved ugly Christmas sweaters—especially ones that lit up.

  After that was a summary of his grades, then his college application essay, followed by his official college transcripts.

  Confused and peeved, Quik closed the folder and looked for information that would tell him why Lux had all this in her bag. If it was a background check, it was the strangest one he’d ever seen.

  He dug his fingers into his hair and cursed himself for believing the whole toy factory lie. Lux had checked into his past. If she knew he was here, then others might know as well. In two steps he was at the bed, where he yanked out a storage tub. Inside was an iPad. He turned it on and checked into the email account only one other person on the earth knew about. The inbox was empty. His shoulders relaxed. If his cover was blown, if anyone had searched for him online, he would have received notice.

  That didn’t explain how Lux got this information. Wondering over her methods picked at his mind like an unfinished puzzle. She could have raided his parents’ storage unit. But if she’d gone that far into his past, she was into something deeper and more sinister than her avocado eyes let on.

  He didn’t want to believe Lux wasn’t what she seemed—and that was what made her so dangerous to him.

  He chewed his lip. She’d promised not to come back, and he had no way to contact her.

  That was for the best.

  He looked arou
nd the quiet house. Only an hour before, the room was warm and the air crinkled with the connection between them as they worked. Now, the place was silent and sad.

  Quik got to his feet, needing to move. He powered down the iPad and returned it to the tub and then added the folder and Lux’s book. He slid the tub in place and straightened his blankets.

  He put the picture on the shelf, leaning it against the books so it stayed upright. He promised himself he would take it down tomorrow. He just needed a friendly face to keep him company for a day or so while he tried to forget about Lux.

  Not that he wanted to, but because he had to. He may not have seen his son in years, may not have rocked him to sleep when his teeth came in, may not have seen his first steps nor walked him to his first day of preschool, but every bit of Quik loved that boy and would do all he could to stay under the radar so his kid could grow up without his dad’s shadowy past looming over him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  273 days until Christmas Eve

  “Lux?” Mom’s voice came over Lux’s phone. The walkie-talkie feature came in handy when they were all home.

  The Kringles’ palace was designed like a dumbbell with the family’s living quarters on one end and the workrooms and elves’ quarters on the other end. Until Dad’s time, the elves hand-made all the presents. They enjoyed their work and never wanted to be far from the toy factory, the kitchen, the wrapping room, the mail room, or the Nice List.

  Included in the family living quarters was the woodshop where Ginger’s husband, Joseph, spent most of his time. He had a wood-carving company that he continued to run from the North Pole. Most of his orders were online and since they had flying reindeer, shipping was easy. Each time a daughter had been added to the family, a new room appeared like a spoke on a wheel. When Ginger married Joseph, her room transformed into a suite with an extra bedroom and bathroom for Layla, Joseph’s niece, a kitchen, and a family room just for them.

  Besides all the rooms needed to produce and store toys and stocking stuffers for most of the world, there were several specialty workrooms. Just off the toy production facility was a welding room. Back in the day, this was where tin soldiers, toy cars, and other such toys had been built by Santa and the elves. Now, it was where Lux worked night and day on a miniature version of the substation. With Christmas Magic being new and untested in the world of electricity, building a smaller version to test was the safest path. She lifted her welding mask and reached for her phone. “I’m in the welding room!” she yelled over the sound of sparks flying. Dad was putting the finishing touches on a cable sealing chamber.

  “I know that, dear. If you don’t come to dinner tonight, I’m going to send your father in to drag you out.”

  Dad must have heard, because he killed his torch and lifted his welding mask too. Lux laughed as they made eye contact. Santa looked guilty. His rosy cheeks lifted as he smiled sheepishly.

  “He’s already here,” she said into the phone.

  Mom sighed heavily. “You two are like Dasher and Dancer.” She referred to the two reindeer who continually got into mischief together. They couldn’t stand to be harnessed without the other, but if you didn’t have a full eight reindeer, then they followed whichever wind blew their way and hauled you off to all corners of the earth as they chased clouds.

  Dad ho ho ho’d. Mom chuckled when she heard his laugh. Being angry at Santa was difficult to do—even if you were married to him. He had a general jolliness that filled the air and broke down even the thickest of walls.

  “Dinner starts in thirty minutes,” Mom announced.

  “We’ll be there.” Lux set a timer on her phone for twenty-five minutes.

  “Shower first!” Robyn’s voice cut over the line. “It’s my birthday.”

  Lux squeezed her eyes shut. Nutcrackers! She’d forgotten Robyn’s birthday. She didn’t even have a gift. Not that her magic purse couldn’t help with that, but because gifts were so easy to come by at the North Pole, the family tried extra hard to make them personal. They’d have to leave now if she had to shower, and she needed time to come up with something good. She and Robyn didn’t spend that much time together. Maybe a new apron? She wrinkled her nose. That was boring. If only the live-action Beauty and the Beast was on Blu-ray. Robyn had played the soundtrack nonstop in the kitchens.

  Five minutes, Dad mouthed.

  “We’ll be on time and showered.” Lux grinned and set the timer. With five minutes, she could finish this weld and clean up.

  “And bring the dishes,” Robyn added.

  Lux’s eyes cut to the pile of plates and bowls on the workbench. The elves had kindly brought her meals as she worked and covered her with a blanket when she fell asleep at the drafting table. The harder she worked, the less freedom her mind had to think about Quik. Avoiding falling into a fit of daydreams inspired by his strong arms and lightning-fast mind had become her new life goal.

  She couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if they’d met in another time and place. A college lab would have been perfect. That’s where she’d shone the brightest academically and socially. Most of her friends had been men, but in the engineering and physics departments there were few women despite their efforts to recruit more women into the programs. If she’d wanted friends at all, she had to branch out of her tiny snow globe of confidence and actually talk to a man. Turned out, they weren’t the enigma she’d made them out to be. Most of them had been snatched up by large corporations. They’d shed their plaid shirts and unruly facial hair for designer suits and shaved jaw lines to became clean-cut corporate men like butterflies spreading their wings for the first time.

  Lux accepted the melancholy that invariably came when thinking of the guys who used to send her Batman memes. As far as they knew, she’d dropped off the face of the earth, reappearing with a Christmas card at the holidays.

  If only putting Quik in the back of her life was possible. He had a way of popping into her thoughts at the strangest times. Like when she was just drifting off to sleep, his face would appear in her mind, smiling—handsome despite his scraggly beard. She’d spent much too much time pondering that beard. The unkempt look was deceiving. Nothing in Quik’s home was out of place. His clothing and bedding were clean, his barn in order, his house laid out with precision. The beard simply didn’t fit. She didn’t mind it, though. With the beard, his warm brown eyes stood out all the more.

  His eyes were the hardest to forget, and that was saying something after seeing him without a shirt on. She didn’t work as hard to push those memories out of her head. But his eyes? They were mysterious, cautious, and as they went through the plans, so darn intense.

  “Lux?” Robyn’s voice cut through her thoughts. “The dishes?”

  “I’ll bring all that I can carry,” Lux promised. She finished her immediate task at the same time Dad finished his, and the timer went off. They cleaned up their tools and he loaded her arms with dishes.

  “I’m going to take these to the kitchen before I shower.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Dad held the door for her. “Don’t trip on the rug.”

  “I’ll be careful.” Lux stopped. “Thanks for your help, Dad.”

  His blue eyes twinkled. “My pleasure.”

  Lux’s heart warmed. Her dad really was the best. Books and movies said that he was all things to all children. That was true when he went out as Santa. He spoke all languages, knew every child’s heart and deepest desires as well as fears. He gave compassion, laughter, and happiness—dishing them all out like Christmas pudding. For his daughters, he was exactly what each of them needed. Lux needed a welder, so he was a welder. Ginger needed a Santa mentor, so he was a mentor. Stella needed an overprotective father to keep her out of trouble—so he was overprotective.

  Speaking of Stella, her sister bounded down the hallway, wearing a sparkling black tank top, a creamy lace skirt, and Santa boots. Her magic bag, made of black leather with heavy buckles, was slung over her arm. “Let me get
the door for you.” She bumped it open with her backside and waved Lux inside the kitchen with a flourish.

  “Someone’s in a good mood.” Mom smiled. She was at the stove, several pots bubbling. Chili spices filled the air. A large cake, probably vanilla if she knew her older sister, frosted with chocolate buttercream and topped with thirty candles waited for celebrating to begin.

  “I’m thrilled to see Lux—I thought she’d gotten lost for good.” Stella twirled, her skirt flying out around her like a Nutcracker fairy.

  Robyn rolled her eyes and went back to checking the baked potatoes in the double ovens on the wall.

  “Bye, Mom.” Stella gave Mom a one-armed hug. Mom tipped her head to hug her back as she continued to stir.

  “Where are you going?” Lux leaned over the counter and slid the dishes onto the stainless steel countertop. Birthday dinners were a big deal around here.

  “Dishwasher.” Robyn pointed at the industrial dishwasher next to the counter.

  “I just set them down. At least give me a chance to be naughty.” Lux pulled the handle to lift the casing around the industrial dishwasher. She picked up a tray and set it on the rollers so she could slide it inside once fully loaded.

  Stella glided past. “I’d give you a chance to be as naughty as you want—wanna double date tonight?”

  That explained Stella’s happy mood. She had seen Axel every weekend this month. Lux suspected there were a few other meetings Mom and Dad weren’t supposed to know about and that she hadn’t been privy to because she’d locked herself in the workroom.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Mom. Her hand was on her hip, and the wooden spoon dripped chili sauce to the tile floor.

  Robyn glanced at the mess and headed to the sink. She used a wet cloth to wipe up and threw the rag in the dirty clothes basket in the far corner—all without Mom noticing.