Marrying Miss Kringle: Lux

by McConnell, Lucy

  Entering the room behind Lux, Dunder pulled the sleigh with the interloper’s pressure indicator inside. “I finished the center break disconnect switch,” she called to Matthew, who was inside cleaning the dead tank. He came out holding a pair of wire strippers and magnifying glasses that made his intelligent brown eyes look huge. Lux held back a giggle. Six weeks at the North Pole had been good for him. The stress of always looking over his shoulder was gone. The result was a studious man, a quiet man with a quick wit and manly pride. His shoulders had widened. He enjoyed climbing ice with her in the mornings, and the upper-body workouts had done good things to his physique.

  His clothes were in better shape, too, thanks to Frost. She’d picked up on his military background and had him dressed in cargo pants and tight tees with faded flags or the word ARMY printed across the front. She also found him heavy black combat boots that were pretty sick.

  Dunder huffed, breaking Lux out of her drool zone. “The pressure indicator is done.” She pointed with her thumb at the gage nestled on a bed of foam mattresses. They didn’t like to have sparks flying near the unfinished substation, so all welding and mitering work had to be done in a separate location. “Stella wasn’t too happy I pulled elves off the production line to help, but I think the final product was worth an irritated sister.”

  Matthew circled the pressure indicator, inspecting the welds and nodding in satisfaction. His approval shouldn’t mean so much to her. And it really didn’t. If he told her it was substandard, she’d fix it without getting her feelings hurt. But every nice word from his lips was like a golden toasted marshmallow in her life, only making her want more.

  “Is she still upset?”

  “Who, Stella?” Lux lowered her brow. “She’s fine. I promised her I would go with her to the Christmas Pageant in Clearview to make up for it.”

  Matthew opened and closed his mouth.

  She held up both hands. “Don’t worry. I didn’t volunteer you to go.”

  He glanced down. “I wasn’t worried about that.”

  “Oh, well,” she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “If you’re worried about the Magic, it still works if we’re not both here. You can stay tucked into the apartment on your own and it won’t matter.”

  He turned away and she thought she heard him say, “It’ll matter to me,” but couldn’t be sure. He’d probably miss the pageant and services. He’d gone last year, and maybe every year before that, for all she knew. They talked in depth about the substation, but every time they tried to talk about other things, silence stretched out between them like old-fashioned taffy.

  Frankly, it was getting old. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

  Matthew tugged at his beard. Another improvement—he kept his beard trimmed and his neck shaved now. He was, in a word, scrumptious.

  “If you’ve got something to say, just get it out there.” She flicked an unruly curl off her forehead. “I’m so tired of being careful around you.”

  “You’re tired?” He laughed mirthlessly. “Let me show you the problem.” He stepped closer, and the air between them crackled.

  Lux’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Her feelings were right there, arching like electrical currents in red and green between them.

  Matthew’s hard edges all softened as the power between them magnified. “Lux …” He ducked to catch her eye. “Do you remember that night in the cave when I said I didn’t believe in Christmas Magic, and you said nothing was more hurtful to a Kringle than someone who didn’t believe?”

  She nodded. His words still stung as if they were attached to her heart by those little hooks used to hang ornaments on a tree.

  “I need to apologize for saying that. Obviously—” He held up both palms. “—I believe in Christmas Magic, and I believe in you.”

  One by one the unwanted ornaments fell away as she stared into his soft brown pools of kindness, finding sincerity.

  “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to apologize. I should have said something right away.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I was overwhelmed with the dangers we were facing, Dunder was all over me, this place, the magic, your family, you.” He whispered the last word, and even though it was quieter than the others, it carried much more weight.

  “We can be overwhelming.”

  “You are overwhelming,” he stated again.

  “I don’t try to be.”

  “And that’s exactly why this is such a problem.” He moved his hand closer to hers, several threads of energy going from his fingers to Lux’s fingers. “We’ve got to keep the energy levels in this room to a minimum.”

  Lux’s cheeks burned like sugar and water over high heat. Oh, the humiliation! She’d never had a man tell her she liked him too much. How did girls ever survive middle school? “I’m trying to keep it under control.”

  “I don’t think it wants to be controlled.” He brushed that rebellious curl off her forehead.

  She sighed, hating to admit that he was right. With every passing day, her admiration for Matthew’s cleverness grew. “Probably not.” She began to sway, her body remembering the feeling of being held in Matthew’s arms as he hummed in her ear.

  “Robyn to Lux.” Lux’s phone crackled. Thankful for the interruption, Robyn’s timing saved her from doing something stupid. And flirting with her husband was stupid on so many levels, including, but not limited to, shorting out several key departments.

  She stepped away from Matthew, the magic fading the farther she got. “Lux here.”

  “Whatever you’re doing, stop it. You just burnt a vat of chocolate.”

  Lux cringed. “How do you know it’s me?”

  “Because Ginger is standing right here.”

  “It could be Stella.”

  “Lux!”

  “All right, all right. Lux out.” She tucked her phone into her back pocket. If Matthew touched her again, she might just melt into a vat of chocolate. She was mortified that he was aware of her feelings and thought they were a “problem.” But what was she supposed to do? From now on, she’d only discuss work and do her best to keep the situation platonic.

  She swatted away the sparkles that floated around her body. Platonic would be a lot easier if she wasn’t literally creating magic with her love for Matthew. The sooner the substation was completed, the better.

  Chapter Thirty

  107 Days until Christmas Eve

  Quik came out of the bathroom wearing a fluffy camo-printed bathrobe. He hated the thing—despite the camo print, it was not manly. His army buddies would laugh their buzz cuts off if they caught him in this.

  Frost continued to leave army-themed clothing for him in his closet when he wasn’t around. Since he had no other way to get clothes, and she did the same thing for everyone, he thanked her politely. Layla was her favorite project. That child had more skirts and shirts and hair bows than any kid he’d known—and he’d grown up in rich-ville California, attending private schools and hobnobbing with politicians and their families on the weekends.

  Lux stumbled out of her room. Her bathrobe hung open, one side of the belt touching the floor and the other barely hanging in the loop. Her hair stuck up in all different directions, and she didn’t have her glasses on. She wore fleece pajama bottoms with video-game controllers and a navy tee. He sucked in, forgetting to breathe. He still hadn’t gotten used to being around her so much. Even now, his heart pounded a beat at the sight of her, as if she jump-started the organ with an electrical jolt.

  The past couple months had been an education he never knew he wanted and yet was fascinated by. He asked where the magic came from. She blushed the color of her hair and explained how Christmas Magic was fed by the love between Santa and Mrs. Claus. She talked in depth about her family history, the changes that had taken place when she and her sisters were born, and how the magic split five ways; Ginger had been chosen to succeed her father as Santa, the subsequent search for a husband, and her marriage, which
he had witnessed. She explained the need for each of them to get married—one a year so as not to overwhelm the process. There were charts of the power surges and dips. Spreadsheets full of data.

  The magic increasing quickly wouldn’t be a problem if their machines were wired for it. They weren’t; they were wired to run off electricity. That’s where the problem started. Too much power and wires fried, hard drives went up in smoke—chaos ensued. Quik understood immediately that Lux was really telling him he couldn’t touch her, kiss her, or explore his love that grew every day or he’d blow up the factory.

  He worked hard to keep his hands and his lips to himself, but when she stumbled out of bed looking sleepy and so cuddle-able, remembering why he wasn’t holding her was much more difficult.

  “Morning.” She stretched, her T-shirt lifting to show a sliver of her beautiful, creamy skin.

  He quickly glanced away before the air could start to crackle. “Good morning.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Lux hurried to answer it. “Stella, hey.”

  “Hey.” Stella skipped into the room. “Hi, Quik—did you know you’re dead?” She dropped a newspaper on the kitchen counter.

  Quik and Lux bumped heads leaning over to read the headline. They laughed awkwardly and rubbed their new goose eggs.

  Renowned Scientist Dead after Explosion

  There was a picture of Quik’s cabin. The roof was missing, and the front door was on the ground. The windows were blown out, and his bed was in the middle of the yard. Quik straightened. “I thought the prototype didn’t blow up the barn. It looked fine before we left.” He shook his head once in an effort to reconcile his memory with the newspaper image.

  “It didn’t.” Lux scooted the paper so she could read it better. “This is the house, not the barn.” She leaned in. “It looks like a gas explosion. See the burn marks on the walls?”

  His arm grew warm from being too close to Lux, so he moved to the automatic hot chocolate maker on the counter and pushed start to heat up the water.

  “Besides, it’s been months since we were there.”

  “Yeah, but the cabin is far enough out that no one would have gone looking for me. Not until the mud was gone and I didn’t answer the radio calls.”

  She hmmed in reply.

  “You’re up early.” He pointed to Stella’s clothes. She had on one of the fur capes she wore to fly.

  “Still up.” Stella yawned. “I spent the night delivering school supplies to kids in Clearview.”

  Quik measured the cocoa. Besides her busy schedule that got busier with every incoming letter, Stella took on any project Clearview needed. How she understood the needs of the community so well was beyond him—especially since she lived so far away.

  “Aren’t you worried?” Lux asked, tapping the paper.

  Quik settled against the counter. “I’m not. Who’s going to find me in Santa’s ice palace?” Who would believe me if I told them I lived at the North Pole?

  “I wonder if there’s an obituary.” Stella tapped her chin. “Lux, grab your laptop.”

  Lux rolled her eyes but disappeared into her room. She came out with her glasses on, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and the laptop. Quik was disappointed that she’d pulled her hair back. He liked it down, liked the way it tickled his arm when they worked closely.

  She and Stella crowded round the screen at the table. Quik finished making the hot chocolate. His was dark chocolate with a dash of peppermint oil. Lux liked hers straight up dark in the morning, and he really liked Lux in the morning. For Stella, he added lemon flavoring. Balancing the three mugs, he made his way to the table. “Here it is.”

  Stella accepted her cocoa as Lux squinted at the computer screen.

  Quik leaned over her to place the mug by the computer. He drank in her cocoa peppermint scent, all warm and deep with a pop of cool. Somewhere in the room, Stella was reading the obit out loud. “… parents, Jerry and Jennifer Quik.”

  He swore. “My parents.”

  Lux’s eyes grew wide. “You have to tell them you’re not dead.”

  He scrubbed his hands through his head. “How? It’s not like I can show up there. I’ll bet they’re being watched.” His chest constricted. It wasn’t like his family didn’t know the dangers of his enlistment, but the image of his mother holding a folded flag and sobbing was too much—he had to do something.

  Lux twisted her hair between her fingers. For a moment, Quik got lost watching her, wondering what it would feel like to do the same thing.

  She jerked up. “Mom. We’ll send Mom down there. She’ll look like a neighbor taking in a bereavement casserole. They’ll let her in and she can explain.”

  He thought about all the bad things that could happen. There really weren’t that many. No one knew where he was. No one had any idea he was tied to this family. As far as he knew, no one knew Gail Kringle existed. Harvey would draw too much attention with his Santa beard and cookie belly. But Gail was perfect. No one would see her as a threat. “Okay. I’ll write a note, something that they will know came from me.” With that figured out, the band around his chest loosened.

  Just as he was about to take a sip of his cocoa, an image on the screen made his blood go cold. “Click on that.” He pointed, his finger shaking.

  Lux tapped the link, and his ex-wife’s face filled the left side of the screen. On the right was a smaller picture of a mangled SUV.

  His hand went slack and his cocoa poured onto the floor. “Amy?”

  Stella got out of her chair and forced him into it. Without him behind Lux, she was able to jump up for a towel. She dropped it over the mess and left it there. “Did you know her?” Lux asked.

  Quik ran a rough hand down his face. “I was married to her.”

  Stella gasped.

  Lux whipped around to read the article. “She was in a car wreck. In critical care.”

  “My son?” he rasped.

  “He’s in the hospital too. Cuts and bruises. Due to be released soon.”

  Quik swore and got to his feet. He paced behind his chair before putting both hands on the back of it and leaning forward. “This is my fault.”

  Lux tipped her head, and he could see the cogs spinning. “I can’t see how.”

  “I was supposed to stay in Alaska. If I hadn’t left—”

  “If you hadn’t left, you would have been caught by the men in those planes or inside your house when it exploded.”

  “Maybe. But at least they would be safe.”

  Lux bit her bottom lip. “Quik—I, I don’t know what to say to make this better.”

  “You can’t.” He pushed away from the chair.

  Lux recoiled, and he instantly regretted his harshness.

  Stella, who had been quietly watching the exchange, leaned across the table. “There is something you can do.”

  “What?” Quik and Lux said at the same time. Quik’s “what” was full of disbelief and challenge while Lux’s was curious.

  Stella’s eyes sparkled. “Reconnaissance.”

  “What?” they said again—this time they sounded equally incredulous.

  “Spy time.” Stella grinned.

  He and Lux exchanged a look, and he caught a sense of possibility from her. “We do have reindeer and a sled.” She plucked at the corner of the laptop. “No one would see us coming.”

  “There you go. Fly down there and check it out.” Stella folded her arms in triumph.

  Quik shook his head. “We have so much to do—and not enough time to do it in.”

  Lux pressed her lips together. “Your son has to be your top priority.”

  He stroked his beard. “I would feel better if I could talk to Amy.”

  Lux glanced quickly away. He wished he could see inside that beautiful head of hers—really get in there and find out how her mind worked. When she didn’t look at him, he doubted himself.

  “There’s too many variables. I don’t know if it’s safe.”

  Lux slowly got t
o her feet. “Then we have to go to the hospital and fill in missing information.”

  “Are you sure? There might be people watching her room, waiting for me.”

  Lux stared at her slippered feet. “You need this.”

  Trust Lux to think more of others than herself. He ached to hold her to his chest and tell her how wonderful she was, to draw from her well of strength. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.” He hurried to his room. As he turned to shut the door, he caught Lux and Stella leaning their heads together and whispering. They stopped when he paused to watch them. Ah, so they were whispering about him.

  He nodded once and shut the door. The only person he’d told about his ex-wife was Lux. Frost knew he had a son, so he assumed it was common knowledge. Maybe Stella wasn’t in on that info, what with being stuck in toy production. Was having an ex-wife a mark against him? He didn’t think so—being married and then not married to Amy had been a huge education in how to treat a woman and what kind of a woman he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. If anything, the lessons he’d learned had made the heartbreak worth it.

  Except that his heartbreak wasn’t the only one he had to consider; he had Lux now. It didn’t take a genius to understand that an ex-wife and a current wife were a bad combination. Lux didn’t have any reason to be jealous of Amy—she was ten times the woman Amy was in his eyes. As soon as the substation was up and running, he’d tell her. He’d tell her how amazing she is, how pretty she looked shaking off what little sleep she needed, and how much he wanted to be a full-time husband with all the perks. Especially with perks.

  To keep his mind off perks, he thought about his son.

  Changing out of his pajamas was an effort with his hands shaking. He hadn’t seen Oliver since he was three months old. His own kid wouldn’t recognize him. He couldn’t think about that now. He yanked his old army backpack off the shelf and filled it with items they might need, while having no idea what they were getting themselves into.