“And I’m pretty sure the cameras caught zero dignity in that whole ordeal.”
She grinned. “Dignity’s overrated.”
He glanced at her, smiling despite himself. “I’m beginning to see that.”
CHAPTER 9
Luke couldn’t rememberthe last time he’d laughed like that.
Not the controlled, polite kind of chuckles. But real laughter, the kind that came from somewhere unguarded.
When Amayah’s eyes had met his, something shifted inside him. It wasn’t just attraction anymore.
It was . . . recognition. He’d never experienced this feeling before with anyone, let alone someone he was supposed to dissect for a career-building exposé.
He forced his focus back to the task at hand.
Ask questions. Observe. Remain detached.
Except Amayah wasn’t trying to impress him or sell a story or gain more followers.
She’d asked about his career, and then she’d listened earnestly. She treated each neighbor she’d met today with the same sincere kindness—from the elderly man with trembling hands to the young mother juggling two toddlers and a wreath.
Phones had been raised, laughter echoing, and more than a few neighbors had kept recording as Amayah announced the winner of the Christmas Door contest—a modest little bungalow twined with cedar garlands and soft white lights.
Amayah had hugged the elderly couple who’d won as if they were old friends, her smile wide and genuine, cheeks flushed from the cold and the joy of it all.
There was no performance in her actions. No calculating glance toward the camera. Just delight—heartfelt and unguarded.
When the crowd finally began to thin, Luke watched her thank everyone individually.
She’d been perfectly lovable and effortlessly kind.
For some reason, that unsettled him more than it should have.
When everything was done, he waved her toward his car. They climbed into his ten-year-old Mazda sedan, and he started the engine, waiting for warmth from the heat to flood through the vents.
The drive back to her place should only take ten minutes. Right now, he wished it might last longer. It had been ages since he’d felt this awake—thisalive—as if the cold air, the lights, the laughter, and Amayah’s steady presence had shaken something loose inside him that he thought had calcified years ago.
For so long, his days had blurred into deadlines, cynicism, and stories that left him uninspired.
But today? Today had felt like stepping into a world that still believed in wonder.
As Luke steered the car through the soft glow of streetlights, they let the conversation drift into easy territory—favorite Christmas traditions, worst holiday mishaps, the merits of homemade cocoa versus the powdered kind.
Nothing heavy. Nothing sharp. Just a gentle exchange of stories and half-laughed admissions that made the short drive feel strangely intimate, like they’d been passing this same stretch of road together for years instead of minutes.
When Luke got closer to Amayah’s house, he could see even from down the street that there were no spaces available in front of her home. Instead, he parked almost a block away.
He hated the thought of her parking so far from her door at night. It didn’t seem safe.
Luke had covered enough crime briefs to know how quickly disadvantaged neighborhoods could change after dark—poor lighting, empty yards, and too many blind spots where someone could wait unseen.
But he didn’t know Amayah well enough to drop that warning. Plus, he had a feeling it wouldn’t do any good. She had a mind of her own—and he really liked that about her.
As they started toward her house, her phone rang and she hung back, excusing herself to take the call. He tried not to listen—kind of.
Her voice dropped into a hush. “No, not yet . . . I’m waiting until everything’s secure.”
