Eve's Christmas Wedding

by Caroline Mickelson

  Kris sank back in her chair, resignation clear on her face. "You're probably right."

  A wave of sympathy rolled over Eve. Dealing with a miserable bride-to-be wasn't something she was used to. "I am right, but believe me, I'm sorry about it. I think the only justifiable reason to elope is if none of your family approves of you and Kyle marrying. But they do approve, right?"

  "They do." Santa's niece looked forlorn. "But I had my heart set on a beach wedding."

  "You can still have one. Don't give up hope." Her sympathy kicked into overdrive. "Listen, Kris, there is a difference between eloping and planning a destination wedding. Trust me, the first you don't want any part of. But we can find a way to get Santa Claus to come around on the idea of a beach wedding. I'll help."

  Kris stood and began to gather the tea cups. "Thanks anyway, but it's going to be impossible to get Santa to see my side of things. The wedding is going to have to be here at the North Pole."

  Eve bit her lip while a thought crystallized in her head. Maybe Kris was on to something. "Wait, Kris, I think I have an idea."

  Kris, tea tray in hand, turned around. "What kind of an idea?"

  Eve got to her feet, feeling suddenly energized by where her train of thoughts was headed. "You're telling me that Santa doesn't listen when you tell him how much you dislike the idea of a big, traditional Christmas wedding?"

  Kris nodded. "It's like he didn't hear a word I said."

  "Now I want you to think carefully. Did Santa specifically say that he didn't like the idea of a wedding in Hawaii?"

  "I don't think so. Not in those exact words. Where are you going with this?" She returned the tea tray to the table and came to stand beside Eve.

  Eve smiled. "Have a seat." Once Kris was seated, Eve sat across from her. "Tell me what appeals to you and Kyle about the idea of being married in Hawaii."

  Santa's niece didn't hesitate. "That's easy. It's the whole spirit of aloha that's attractive to us. From what I understand, the word aloha is Hawaiian for peace, compassion, mercy, and affection. What better way to start our marriage than in a relaxed, peaceful atmosphere?"

  "All things any married couple should want to cultivate."

  "Exactly. It seemed so perfect. In theory, anyway."

  Eve studied Kris for a long moment. Her idea was farfetched. But so was the whole idea that she was at the North Pole. Reality, she'd never quite realized before this exact moment, was all about the way you looked at things. Compromise was possible. She had to admit that this was a new thought for her. An unsettling one. But she would think about her personal life later. Right now, she had a wedding to plan. She turned her attention back to Kris. "I think there's a way we can make this work."

  Kris leaned forward, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Do you really think so?"

  Eve outlined her plan and was relieved that Kris smiled broadly when she was done.

  "You think we can pull this off?" Kris asked.

  Eve nodded. "I'm sure of it. My business partner can help us with getting everything we need from down below. But we've got a lot of things to accomplish in a very short amount of time so we'd better start now."

  "Just tell me what to do."

  Eve handed her a book of bridal gown designs. "Pick out a wedding dress. Just make sure it's one suitable for the beach."

  ***

  The moment Hunter stepped into Santa's office he knew that something was afoot. He watched in silence as Eve rapidly dictated notes to a team of three elves who could barely scribble down her rapid fire instructions before she'd moved onto another list. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Eve was in full wedding planner mode. Quite the switch from this morning, that was for sure.

  "Goodness, she certainly is a dynamo," Santa said.

  Hunter nodded. "She's all about the perfect day."

  "Hmmm...she certainly seems to have moved past her earlier reservations."

  Hunter nodded his agreement. Funny, that. It was as if she'd gone from zero to a hundred miles per hour in the short time he'd been gone. He tore his eyes from Eve and glanced at the woman who sat at the opposite end of the table. She must be Santa's niece. Tall, trim, and brunette, she could easily pass for Eve's sister.

  "I need to have a word with the head of the wrapping department," Santa said, his voice low enough that the women didn't hear him. "Care to join me?"

  Hunter shook his head. "I'll stay here if you don't mind." Something in the way Eve was acting roused his suspicions. She was up to something, and he wanted to know what.

  ***

  As if she sensed she was being watched, Eve turned and looked in the direction of the door. Santa Claus was nowhere in sight. But Hunter stood leaning against the door, hands tucked into his jean's pockets, and his eyes were focused intently on her. Eve met his gaze. "How long have you been standing there?"

  Hunter's shrug was nonchalant. "Couple of minutes."

  "Where's Santa?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice from betraying how unsettled she felt. No, unsettled wasn't the right word. Hunter didn't unsettle her, but his presence did something to her every time she saw him. She took a deep, calming breath. This wasn't the right time to lose her focus. "I thought you were getting a tour?"

  Hunter sauntered toward the table. He extended a hand toward Kris. "You must be Kris Kringle. Hunter Nielson."

  "Nice to meet you, Hunter." Kris stood and shook his hand. "Did my uncle abandon you?"

  He smiled. "He got called away, something about the wrapping department."

  Eve cleared her throat. "Pardon the interruption, but we've got some serious plans to make here, Hunter." She smiled in an attempt to soften the fact that she was clearly trying to dismiss him. "So, unless you'd like to sit with us while we pick out flower arrangements, maybe Kris can find someone else to finish showing you around?"

  But Hunter didn't take the bait. "I'm happy to help with the flowers."

  "You are?" Eve's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

  "Because you just asked me to help." His lips curved into an impish smile.

  He was enjoying himself far too much for Eve's liking, but what could she do? It wasn't like she could banish him from the premises.

  Kris consulted her watch and then stood. "I'm sorry but I've got to help out in the kitchen for a couple of hours. Can we pick this up after dinner?"

  "Of course," Eve assured her. "We've made great progress."

  As soon as Kris and the elves left the room, Eve began to tidy up the stacks of papers, photos, and brochures that littered Santa's table. She kept her hands busy and her eyes off of Hunter. Keeping her mind off of him, however, was virtually impossible. Especially when he was watching her so intently.

  "Care to tell me what's going on?" he finally asked.

  She stopped what she was doing and looked at him. "I don't know what you mean."

  He took a step closer to her, an amused expression on his face. "That comment alone proves that you are up to something because you always know what I mean."

  She shook her head. He was too close for her brain cells to all work together at one time. "I used to always know, but I don't any longer. That ship has sailed, Hunter."

  He reached over and moved a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. "What ship is that?"

  She struggled to appear unaffected by his touch. "Our ship."

  He cocked his head to the side as if he were pondering her words. "Maybe our ship has returned to port and is ready to sail into the sunset."

  Eve shook her head. "It's too late for us, Hunter."

  His answer was to reach out for her and draw her close to him.

  To Eve's surprise, she didn't resist even though she knew what he meant to do. His plan was to kiss her, and when he did, she did nothing to stop him. How could she? Her traitorous mind and body conspired against her heart to welcome his touch.

  After a long moment, but one that was still far too short, he pulled back just enough that he could brush a gentle kiss across the top of her head as
he held her close to his chest. "It's not too late at all. In fact, I think the timing for us might be just about perfect."

  "What's this about perfect timing?" Santa's voice boomed from the doorway.

  Startled, Eve drew back and stared at the small crowd in the doorway. Santa stood beside a kindly looking woman that could only be Mrs. Claus. Jolly, Tinsel and Rapz stood just behind Santa. How had she not heard them come in the room?

  She glanced up at Hunter, but he didn't appear the least bit embarrassed. In fact, he looked downright amused.

  She pulled away, hoping that her flaming hot cheeks weren't anywhere near as red as she imagined they were.

  Rapz spoke first. "We saw Kris leave and we need a word with you. About the wedding."

  Eve and Hunter exchanged startled glances. "What about it?" she asked.

  "We know what you're up to, Eve Bennington," Mrs. Claus said. "Don't we, Santa?"

  Santa nodded solemnly. "We do indeed. And there's something you need to understand."

  Eve's heart began to race. She'd barely set the wheels in motion. How on earth had they learned about her plans already? She glanced from Santa, to his wife, to the elves, and finally to Hunter. He shrugged his shoulders, clearly as confused as she was. "What's that?"

  Santa grinned. "We passed Kris in the corridor and she looks the happiest we've seen her in ages. And that's all your doing, young lady."

  Mrs. Claus crossed the office and hugged Eve. "Thank you for making sure Kris and Kyle will have the perfect Christmas wedding."

  Eve forced herself to smile. She was grateful that no one expected her to join in as they began to discuss ice sculptures, Poinsettia covered arches, and a traditional sit down meal of Christmas goose with all the trimmings.

  "If you'll just excuse me," she said to the group, even though no one except Hunter was paying her a bit of mind. "I have arrangements to make."

  Specifically, she needed to track down some palm trees and order a ton of white sand.

  Chapter Eight

  "Just how long do you think it's wise to keep Santa Claus in the dark about your plans?"

  Eve looked up from the lei she was stringing, a small frown marring her features. "I don't like to think of it as keeping him in the dark exactly."

  Hunter studied her. "What would you call it then? Because you can't get away with acting like you're being straight with him. The man is under the illusion that his niece is going to wear a long white dress and float down the aisle of the Christmas Central chapel toward her groom. He fully expects Kyle to be decked out in a tuxedo. After the ceremony, he no doubt-"

  "Hunter, stop," Eve interrupted him. "I get it. Thank you." She pushed a box of silk orchid petals toward him. "String."

  "I'd rather sample a few more of those slushy frozen drinks."

  Eve gave a pointed look at the couch on the other side of the room. "Look how that worked out for poor Tinsel."

  Hunter smiled. "You have to admire his work ethic, the way he kept going back and forth between the Mai Tai and the Blue Hawaiian."

  "Yeah, he was doing great. Right up until he passed out." The last thing Eve wanted to do was harm an innocent elf in the name of putting together the perfect menu for Kris' wedding. "Do you think we should take him down to the infirmary?"

  Hunter shook his head. "Nope. Let's just let him sleep it off. But you still haven't answered my question. When are you going to tell Santa about the change in plans?"

  Eve didn't answer right away. Honestly, she had no clue how to handle the situation. What had initially seemed like a brilliant solution now felt like a quagmire. She dropped the lei and buried her face in her hands.

  "Hey, Eve, it'll be okay." Hunter's voice was soothing. "Look at me."

  She did, but the gentle concern and caring she saw in his green eyes, offered no solution to her problems. In fact, it opened up an entirely separate quandary. "Oh, Hunter."

  He reached out and gently caressed her cheek with his fingertips. "Eve, sweetheart, you don't have to face everything all alone. I'm here for you. Always. Let me help."

  Eve wanted to believe that, more than anything in the whole world. More fervently than children around the world wanted to believe in Santa Claus. But just because Santa had turned out to be real, didn't mean that what she felt between Hunter and herself was real.

  They had a past. That didn't mean they had a future.

  She drew in her breath as Hunter leaned toward her. She wanted him to kiss her. But enough was enough, they might well be at the North Pole but that didn't mean that they were in la-la land. She held up her hand and her words came out in a breathy rush. "How do I know that you'll be here six months from now?"

  His smile was rueful. "I deserve that for all the times I left you to chase after a story. But I'm here now, with you, and won't leave. Unless you tell me that you want me to go."

  Eve closed her eyes against the inevitability of what was happening. She was falling in love Hunter Nielson again, and she felt powerless to save herself. Her eyelids fluttered open just as Hunter's lips touched hers. How could this be so wrong, when it felt so right?

  "Kissing on the job again?"

  Stunned, Eve pulled back and looked around the room. "Who's here?"

  But Hunter was a step ahead of her. "Rapz, dude, really?"

  Rapz popped his head up from behind the couch. "Sorry, well, not really. You two crack me up. You're like high school kids, always trying to get the smooch on."

  Get the smooch on? Eve met Hunter's eye and returned his grin. Rapz might well have the worst timing of anyone she'd ever known, but he was an original. She'd give him that. She waved for him to come over to the table. "Since you're here, I'm going to put you to work." She slid a box of flower petals toward him. "String."

  Rapz climbed up on the chair but he ignored the box. "Is it too late to get in on the slushy drinks?"

  Eve laughed. "I'm afraid so."

  "Tinsel closed down the bar," Hunter told him. "Poor guy's going to be hurting tomorrow."

  "Yeah, well, the countdown clock starts tomorrow so he's going to have to pull himself together." Rapz stretched his arms overhead and yawned. "This place is going to turn into Exhaustion Central within twenty-four hours."

  Eve didn't doubt that, but it did make her wonder. "Tell me this, Rapz. Why is Santa so insistent on having Kris get married on Christmas Eve if everyone here is going to be crazy busy? It would seem like the worst possible time for a wedding."

  "That's not how the big guy sees it." Rapz laced his fingers together and put them behind his neck, looking for all the world to see as if he had nothing to do and no other place to be. "Mr. C. loves tradition. I actually think this wedding is the one thing that's giving him the enthusiasm to make this the best Christmas ever."

  Perfect. Nothing like a little pressure. Eve glanced at Hunter. Judging by the look on his face, he was thinking much the same thing.

  The sound of Christmas bells ringing emanated from the direction of Rapz's pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and glanced at the screen. "Speak of the devil. It's the big guy." He tapped the screen. "Hey, Santa, you're on speakerphone. I'm here with Eve and Hunter."

  "Bingo, just the two people I was looking for," Santa said, his voice coming through the speaker loud and clear. "Are you two knee deep in wedding preparations?"

  Eve glanced down at the boxes of leis and paper umbrellas that were strewn across the table. "You could say that."

  "Excellent, excellent. Now, I've had a few more thoughts that I wanted to run by you."

  "Go ahead, we're listening," she prompted him.

  "I think we should bring in a bell ringer to put on a performance before the harp soloist plays. What do you say?"

  "Well, I'm not sure-" Eve hedged.

  Santa seemed oblivious to her hesitation. "Wait, I've got another idea that will top that one. I was thinking that right after the ceremony, it would be perfect if we have a bagpiper pipe the newly married couple back up the aisle. What do
you think?"

  "Why not a whole Scottish pipe band?" Hunter asked, his expression mischievous.

  Eve reached over and swatted his arm. Santa didn't need any help going overboard.

  "I love that," Santa exclaimed. "I should have thought of that myself. Now, if you two need anything, just let Rapz know. Or Tinsel. I'm not sure quite where he is at the moment but he'll go above and beyond to help if you just ask him."

  Eve looked over at the sofa where Tinsel was stretched out. "He's already been a huge help, Santa."

  Once Rapz ended the call and bid them farewell, Eve turned to Hunter. "Bagpipes? Good grief. How exactly are we going to get out of this one?"

  ***

  For the next twenty-four hours, Hunter watched as Eve worked her magic. To say she was adept at wedding planning was like saying that Michelangelo knew his way around a paint-by-the-numbers set. No detail was too small to escape her notice.

  What didn't escape his notice was the tiny frown that marred her brow. This wasn't like her, and it told him just how preoccupied she really was. He watched as she oversaw a small group of elves raking mounds of sand that had been delivered that morning. Eve, clipboard in hand, stood under the potted palm trees and directed them as if each grain of sand had a particular position it was supposed to be in.

  After an earlier consultation with the bride and groom, it was decided that the wedding wouldn't be held in the chapel, but in a small auditorium instead. A stage had been set up along the far wall for a hula performance. Rapz had volunteered to watch a few videos on YouTube so he could demonstrate a Polynesian fire dance but his suggestion had been drowned out before he'd been able to finish speaking. Poor guy. Hunter had to admire the elf's moxie, although he had been one of the voices that had quickly vetoed the offer. The small group of elves that Santa had been able to spare from Christmas duties were enthusiastic about bringing a taste of the islands to Christmas Central. None of the elves looked preoccupied about Santa's reaction, at least not to his eye.

  He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down. It was Tinsel, who still appeared a bit peaked. He held out a paper plate loaded with food.