Page 18 of Yule Know It When You See It
He shakes his head curtly. “Nope. But can’t deny being curious.”
With the holiday train distracting him, I take another look at his face, anobjectivelook. Even his side profile is disgustingly handsome and perfect. And I can’t help wondering how he keeps his beard so immaculate.
“Taking in the view?” Axel asks, not looking in my direction but giving a sly grin before eyeing me sidelong.
My ears are on fire, and I avert my gaze in time to spot our incoming train. “That’s us.”
“Saved by a train twice now. How fortunate for you.” Axel holds his hand out, motioning for me to go first.
“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you speak of, Nord.” Tightening my scarf, I brisk past him to the automatic doors.
Heat settles at my back from Axel’s chest. “You keep telling yourself that, Hackett.”
The doors couldn’t open fast enough, and I’m through them and sitting on the first available window seat within seconds. I expect him to sit across from me or in an adjacent row, but much to my disappointment and surprise, Axel sitsdirectlynext to me.
“What are you doing?” I snap.
“Sitting.”
I sit on my hands to warm them. “Yes, but you don’t have to sitrightnext to me.”
“I don’thaveto do anything.” He shrugs one shoulder and slips the cap from his head, dragging a hand through his hair to slick it back.
Gripping the seat with both hands, I flip my hair from my face. “I ride the train solo all the time. I don’t need your protection or anything or whatever.”
A light chuckle rumbles from Axel’s chest. He spreads his giraffe legs wide, a knee brushing mine, and rests his hands on his thighs. “You ride solo because youhaveto. Today? You don’t.”
I open my mouth to retort, and virtually nothing comes out. I’m Ariel, the Little Mermaid, and I’ve lost my voice, only it’s been taken from me without contractual agreement.
The train pulls from the platform, and the conductor begins their rounds, traipsing through each car, spotting new passengers to ask for passes or tickets. We hold our corporate-provided lifetime passes when they’re near and slouch in our seats to relax the rest of the trip. The silence that falls over us is borderline suffocating. I’ve never been good at handling idle conversations with people I held tight bonds with, let alone someone new.
As if using the Force to sense my unease, Axel mumbles, “What’s your favorite holiday song?”
“Carol of the Bells,” I answer instinctively.
His eyes are closed, his hands folded, resting on his stomach, but he lazily opens his eyes and gives an inviting smile. “Nice choice. Any particular reason?”
“I don’t know. It gives me all the holiday vibes and gets me pumped for the season. Especially the Trans-Siberian Orchestra version.” I tap my boots to the familiar beat playing in my head. “And it’s neutral. Focuses more on being joyous and grateful versus another retelling of a manger and Three Wise Men.”
My neck stiffens, and I don’t dare look at him. I didn’t come right out and say it, but the implication laced in those words was enough to alert most people.
“So, noLittle Drummer Boyfor you then?”
Shocked he doesn’t grill me further on the subject, I whip my gaze to him. He’s grinning and casually leaning in his chair with his head resting on the back. “Definitely not in my top ten. What about you?”
“Easy.Frosty the Snowman.”
I did not expect that.
“Frosty?” I shriek. “But it’s so sad. Hediesin the end.”
“No. Hemelts. But I like to believe his spirit lives on.” Axel sits straight, his knee bumping against mine as he adjusts.
Ten lords a-leaping suddenly dance in my stomach.
“His—spirit?” My writer’s brain dives into the deep end. “Where does it go?”
“Into any other snowman built.” A child-like wonder sparks in his eyes. “Another thing I miss about Norway? The powder. Perfect for building snowmen. Here? It gets rock hard overnight, and you’re lucky if it doesn’t turn black in the same instance.”
