Page 189 of New Reign

The trolley bus rolls past on Bellevue Avenue with a guide speaking into a microphone:

“On your right, folks, you’ll seeThe Jade Bryan House,recently added to the Historic Holiday Tour?—”

I nearly swallow my tongue.

“NO,” I whisper.

“YES,” Tristan beams.

People start gathering, snapping pictures.

Susan fans herself dramatically.

“Honey, I could start CHARGING MONEY for this.”

“This is RIDICULOUS,” I groan.

But the madness multiplies.

Carolers show up.

Like, full Dickens costumes, lanterns, harmonies — the whole winter wonderland package.

And I realize exactly how insane this is going to get.

I don’t even see him at first.

I hear him.

His voice is like warm whiskey being poured over ice.

“Need help?”

I freeze mid–tree selection.

He’s standing there in a navy peacoat, cheeks flushed from the cold, hair wind-tossed — the human form of a winter romance novel cover.

And then?—

He puts on a Santa hat.

Like… seriously puts it on.

Adjusts the little white ball.

Tilts it at a cocky angle.

I stare at him.

“…Leo.”

“Yeah?” he asks, stepping closer.

“You’re wearing a Santa hat.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, lowering his voice just for me, “I’ll be anyone you want me to be.”

My whole body turns red from the neck down.