Chapter 14
CLARA
The next morning, I awoke in bed but made no move to get out from under the covers. Luke was out there in the penthouse, and I didn’t know how to behave around him anymore.
Last night’s kiss had been for the cameras, of course. I had told him we needed to start doing more “couple things” in public if he wanted people to see him as a reformed ladies’ man, someone steady who could be trusted with more responsibilities. I never could have expected that, though.
The damn kiss had felt so real, my knees went weak and the breath fled from my lungs. I forgot we were in a studio, on live TV, with people watching all over the country.
Knowing I couldn’t avoid it any longer, I threw some pants on and headed out of my room.
The sound of the TV came from the living room and I found Luke there on the couch, watching highlights from some game or another.
In pajama pants and a white undershirt, he looked like a normal human and not a robot in a suit for the first time.
He looked at me over his shoulder and turned down the TV. “Morning, sleepyhead.”
I growled at him and he laughed.
“I guess you need coffee,” he said. “You and Kerri worked pretty late last night. I’m glad she brought you home.”
I wrestled with his fancy espresso maker. The thing had worked for me on my first night here, but this morning it was fighting me. “She’s a fun lady. And she saw our little show yesterday, and she wouldn’t stop gushing about how romantic the kiss was.”
Luke smiled and looked away from me. “That was one for the books.”
It sure was. I might have urged Kerri to work late last night, not wanting to come back to the penthouse to face Luke. This thing between us was becoming more intense than I had expected. A kiss on national TV had not been part of the plan.
I hadn’t planned on liking it so much, either.
Had he felt the same explosion of heat when his lips touched mine? Had he been thinking about me all night like I had been thinking of him?
I doubted it. This was all a show for him. It was supposed to be that way for me too, but it seemed I wasn’t as in control of my motions as he was. He didn’t seem awkward at all this morning. I was the one getting confused about what this arrangement was and was not.
It was a huge opportunity for me to make a boatload of money, giving me a chance to finally pursue my dream of working on stage design in New York.
It wasn’t true love. I was attracted to him, of course.
He was hotter than the sun. He might have been attracted to me too, but not enough to try making any of this real.
That was for the best. He had his career to think about and I had mine. I didn’t want to ruin things for either of us. What I needed to do was stay focused and not forget the plan. Fake it for a few weeks and then go our separate ways.
Luke came up behind me at the counter and I froze, not sure what was about to happen. Maybe the kiss had changed things for him, too.
“Here let me help,” he said, reaching around me to pull a lever on the espresso machine. “Sometimes this gets a little stuck.”
His arm brushed my shoulder while he reached over. He smelled like a woodshop, even though I doubted he had done any woodworking since he left Harrison City. Was it the lingering traces of his cologne or did he just smell like a man?
I breathed him in but tried not to let him see.
Luke grabbed a mug from the cabinet and placed it on the counter in front of me. “So listen, I have the day off, and honestly, I feel like I owe you for the magnificent performance yesterday.”
Performance. Right. “You don’t owe me. It’s all part of the deal, right?”
“Well, yeah, but still. We can do whatever you want to today.”
I grinned at him. “Is that a promise?”
Luke eyed me, curious. “Within limits,” he said. “I still have a reputation to upkeep. So no streaking through Central Park or anything.”
I let out a big, playful sigh. “Well then, forget it.”
He laughed, and for a second I thought he might wrap his arms around me. Or maybe that was just insane wishful thinking. It had been a couple of years since I’d been with anyone romantically. Maybe that was why I kept hoping for something more with Luke.
An hour later, we were in Central Park, fully clothed. They were having a big Christmas Market in one of the sections, and I insisted we check it out.
Booths had been set up in neat little rows, with Christmas lights strung between them. A million wonderful smells hung in the air. Hot cocoa, kettle corn, and funnel cakes. But it wasn’t just food vendors.
Locals artists had their work on display. Holiday paintings and handmade dolls of Santa, his wife, and the elves. One lady had a bunch of glass pieces that I knew Jessie would love. I got her a glass apple for her desk, since she was a teacher. I also got her a cute little cat holding a cocktail.
Luke looked grumpy when I finished up with the glass seller’s booth. “You should have looked around more first.”
“What? Why?” I asked, frowning.
“We just got here and you already bought something,” he said. “But how do you know if that vendor had the best stuff? You haven’t seen the rest of it.”
“I don’t need to see it all first,” I said, continuing to walk down the row of sellers. “Those pieces spoke to me, and I went for it.”
He shrugged like he still disagreed. “You don’t even know if you got a good price for those. Maybe shop around and compare a little.”
“Well, these are handmade and one-of-a-kind, so there’s no way to compare prices.” I turned to look at him. “Why don’t you look around for something for yourself? Your apartment needs some damn Christmas spirit.”
“My apartment is fine,” he said, though he seemed amused by my criticism. “And I don’t need anything.”
“Okay, then what about something for your family? Your mother at least. I know she would love a handmade gift. It’s more special than some junk you can order online, and it shows you put some thought and effort into it.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Yeah, I’m full of good ideas,” I said. “If only people would listen.”
“I’m listening,” he said, laughing. “But I might need your help picking something out. I’m terrible at gift giving. I’m too practical. I like giving people things they can use.”
“Luke Whitaker, please tell me you’ve never given your mother a vacuum for Christmas.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish. “Not a vacuum.”
“What then?” I asked.
“Now I don’t want to tell you,” he replied.
“Nope, you have to now.”
He sighed. “Pots and pans, okay? That one year I got her a set of pots and pans. But in my defense they were really nice and she said she loved them. And she still uses them.”
I smiled at that. “Okay, that’s borderline, but if she loves to cook, I guess that’s not bad. One year for Christmas, my father bought my mother a mop, and I thought she was going to beat him with it.”
Luke laughed with me at that. “Okay, even I know that’s a bad gift.”
“I saw some handmade scarves other there.” I pointed to the booth draped in colorful fabric. “I bet your mother would like one of those.”
“Lead the way, my little Christmas elf.”
So he did remember the Christmas Spectacular in high school. That night was stamped into my memory permanently. I had already been in love with theater back then but that performance was the moment things clicked and I knew I wanted to do it forever.
The role of the Spirit of Christmas was stolen from me by Luke’s evil ex, which had made me almost quit the production. Mrs. Fletcher, who was still teaching, had convinced me to stay by offering me something better than the big song in the finale. She made me the stage manager.
I organized everything and made sure it ran like clockwork. More importantly, I also designed the sets for the play. I ended up loving that role more than anything I’d done in front of the curtain.
I wanted Luke to know I remembered our play together too. “Follow me, Santa.”
Did his cheeks go pink when I called him that or was it from the cold?
We walked around the rows of booths. He bought a pretty purple scarf for his mother.
For his father, he found a ceramic bull and the vendor painted Whitaker Ranch on the side to personalize it.
I found a few things for my parents and Nic, too.
Luke was a gentleman and carried all the bags, which freed my hands up to buy us a couple of warm ciders.
We walked and sipped and I felt alive. The day was gray but it just made the lights around us more beautiful.
“I have a Christmas joke,” Luke said. “But it’s dumb.”
“I don’t care. I want to hear it.”
He cleared his throat like he was about to go on air. “What happens if you eat Christmas decorations?”
I smiled, shocked he was even telling a joke. “What?”
“You get tinsel-itis.”
I groan and laugh at the same time. “Wow, that’s dumb.”
“I warned you,” he said, grinning. His eyes met mine and something warm flashed in them.
It quickly vanquished when a snowball exploded square on the back of his head.
Luke whirled as a group of children darted away. The boys giggled like little madmen. Luke smiled and got a focused look on his face, like he was back on the football field.
“Luke, no,” I said, but he handed me the bags and his cider and he raced into the wide, open area of the park, where a gaggle of kids and young teenagers were having an epic snowball fight. “Go easy on them! They’re just kids!”
His laughter greeted me in response. I hurried after him, juggling all of our little bags of purchases. There was no way I could miss this.
Luke charged into the fray and immediately got nailed in the face with another snowball. He shook it off and started launching snowballs of his own.
He wasn’t the only adult involved, but the whole thing felt playful. No one was trying to hurt anybody. Just all in good fun. The kids were loving it.
I had never been sporty and I was loaded down with bags, so I stayed out of it.
Or tried to, anyway. The little goblins saw me on the sidelines and hocked snowballs at me like it was target practice.
Unable to find adequate cover, I took a few more shots before I put the bags down gently and then clutched my chest and staggered like a dying gunslinger in the old Westerns my father liked.
The kids stopped throwing and laughed at my theatrics. Finally, I dropped to my knees and fell on my back into the snow, lying sprawled like I was out of the fight.
Luke’s flushed face came into view, hovering over me and looking boyish. The huge smile on his face was one I hadn’t seen since he lived back in Harrison City.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Leave me to die,” I breathed theatrically. “But avenge my death. Promise me.”
Luke’s smile widened and he dropped to his knees to hold me in his arms. “I promise.”
“My only regret is that we didn’t have more time,” I whined dramatically before dying against his warm chest. I wanted to burrow into him and snuggle there until spring.