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The Trouble with Mistletoe
Jennifer Snow


Since leaving Brookhollow and her fiancé, Luke Dawson, twelve years earlier, Victoria Mason hasn’t looked back. She’s traded the small-town dream of marriage, kid and family Christmas dinners for late nights working at a high-powered acquisitions firm, lunches at trendy New York restaurants and jet-set vacations on the slopes.So her latest work assignment, to acquire Brookhollow’s sporting goods store, poses a challenge for Victoria, in more ways than one. Because it’s almost Christmas, and she’s got other holiday plans. And the owner is reluctant to sell. And the owner is Luke.If she can just wrap up the deal before she gets caught up in her old life and her old love… or becomes trapped under the mistletoe. Again.









She faked a smile.

She didn’t need or want any more time to get to know this man over again. What she wanted was for him to sign her contract so she could get out of Brookhollow. “I’ll have an offer by Wednesday, but we should go over the preliminary paperwork as soon as possible.” She scanned the store for a place to lay out her documents. “The major chain store interested in purchasing—”

Luke turned off the lights and unplugged the strand of multicolored Christmas lights draped across the window.

“Do … you prefer we do this in the dark?” she asked sarcastically.

He put his coat on and wrapped a scarf around his neck. “I have dinner plans.”

The familiar scent of his musky cologne made her pulse race. “Tomorrow, then.” She stepped out into the frigid air. “I’ll come by in the morning.” She pulled out a silver monogrammed cardholder. Her hand shook as she handed one of her cards to Luke.

“Your card?”

“It has my cell number on it.” Her teeth chattered.

“Victoria, this is Brookhollow.” He laughed. “I could stand in the center and call to you, and wherever you are, you’ll hear me.”




Dear Reader,

Everyone remembers their first love. Despite time, distance and future loves—that first experience of a spark or a connection seems to hold a special place in our hearts even as the memories fade. In this first book of my Brookhollow series, I wanted to write about what happens when that first love is so strong that it can never be replaced and how sometimes all it needs is a second chance.

My favorite romance stories have always been holiday-themed, as I feel that Christmas is the ultimate time to celebrate love and family and heart and home—the essence of this new Heartwarming series. I hope you enjoy losing yourself in this beautiful town as much as I enjoyed creating it.

Warmest wishes to you and your family this holiday season,

Jennifer


The Trouble with Mistletoe

Jennifer Snow




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


JENNIFER SNOW

Jennifer Snow has been writing fairy tales with happy endings from a very young age, always with one goal in mind—to become a part of the Harlequin/Mills & Boon


family. Living in Edmonton, Alberta, with her husband and three-year-old son, she is dedicated to creating lasting, heartfelt romances that readers can share with those they love.

www.JenniferSnowBooks.com (http://www.JenniferSnowBooks.com)


Acknowledgments

Thank you to my family—my beautiful creative mom, hardworking father, encouraging brother, amazing son and supportive husband for everything. I wouldn’t be living my dream if it weren’t for each of you. Also, thank you a million times to my agent, Stephany Evans, for taking a chance on this story and my talented editor, Victoria Curran, for offering me a home here at the Heartwarming series.


Contents

CHAPTER ONE (#u87c06b55-d503-5821-ac80-b326d3aede1e)

CHAPTER TWO (#ue3a71afb-34bd-5d42-9391-c8e29c42948f)

CHAPTER THREE (#u796b5ddb-17a9-53bc-a963-fc1d818c60a3)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE

“Please don’t hit, please.” Victoria Mason closed her eyes as her tiny rental car slid into the parking space on Main Street. Parallel parking was not a skill she possessed and yet she was relieved to see she’d cleared the other cars. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and reapplied her lipstick. The pink, shimmery gloss did the trick of adding a touch of color to her pale complexion. The two-hour drive on the busy interstate from New York City to Brookhollow, New Jersey, had tested her already frazzled nerves. She prayed the unpleasant road trip, with its bumper-to-bumper traffic and icy road conditions, wasn’t a sign of things to come as she stepped out into the cold. The early-December wind whipped through her cashmere winter coat and her breath came in puffs of white clouds as she locked the car. An unnecessary gesture in her small hometown. This wasn’t New York. Anyone here for more than two minutes could see Brookhollow at rush hour was the opposite of Manhattan’s fast pace and crazy traffic.

The Christmas season was in full swing and all the small mom-and-pop shops lining both sides of the quiet street boasted holiday displays in their storefront windows. Kitty-corner from where she stood, Pearl’s Petals showcased a frosty winter wonderland with pale pink and white poinsettias lining the base of the window. The crystal snowflakes hanging from the ceiling glistened against the white scrim backdrop. Next door, the town’s secondhand bookstore, Dog-Eared Books, featured a selection of holiday cookbooks and children’s stories positioned under a Christmas tree decorated with crayons and bookmarks.

From here, she could also see Town Center Square in the distance. The twenty-foot Christmas tree had been put up the day before, as was the tradition for the first weekend in December. On the corner the town’s welcome sign was bordered with holly and twinkling white lights. Welcome to Historic Brookhollow, Population 10,810. According to her mother, that number had decreased in recent years. Victoria had certainly been eager to remove herself from the population count. Now here she was, for the first time in three years. Freezing her butt off.

Victoria shivered as she walked the short distance to Legend’s Sporting Goods. The quicker she started the acquisition process, the better. Her previous acquisitions had closed without the slightest hiccup, but she suspected this would be different. Why hadn’t she declined this one? Being back in her hometown was tough enough. Having to deal with this particular store owner would be torture.

Her gaze fell to the acquisition papers in her hand. Luke Dawson. She hadn’t seen or spoken to her ex-fiancé in twelve years. A different agent, a stranger in Brookhollow, may have had an easier time. Leaving town for a career in New York, abandoning the star quarterback and homecoming king two weeks before their wedding, hadn’t exactly put her on Brookhollow’s favorite people list. She bit her lip. Could she really be successful in a place she’d always considered a roadblock to her ambition?

She had to focus on what mattered: securing this purchase and getting out of Brookhollow before Christmas. Pausing in front of the store, she checked her reflection in the window, running a hand over her blond, shoulder-length hair. She forced several, slow deep breaths. It had been twelve years, how bad could this reunion be? She reached for the door handle.

“The store is closed for renovations,” a deep voice said to her right, several feet above her.

“Oh, well, I have a meeting with—” Victoria turned and took in the man on the ladder she’d walked right past without seeing “—Luke?” She placed a hand over her eyes to shield them from the low, setting sun glaring off the roof of Ginger Snaps, the bakery next door. She could barely make out his face in the blinding light, but the voice was unmistakable. “How long have you just been watching me from up there?”

“Long enough to enjoy that painful parking job.” He turned back to his work, placing a string of lights along the roof.

She glanced toward the rental car, parked on a slight angle in the space that now looked much larger than it had when she was trying to park in it. Squaring her shoulders, she moved closer. “Renovations? Didn’t you receive the letter from Clarke and Johnston Acquisitions earlier this week?”

“The one claiming you’d be here at noon today?” Luke asked.

Victoria struggled to maintain her composure. This wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured this meeting. In truth, she’d had no idea what to expect, but she hated that she’d given him the upper hand by being late. “Traffic was a lot slower than I’d predicted.” And she’d left the city three hours later then planned. “Anyway, the letter also stated that my firm will be placing an offer on Legend’s within the week.”

“I’m not interested in selling the store.” The sound of the nail gun reverberating off the awning made her wince.

“Either way, we should still discuss my client’s interest in obtaining it.”

He ignored her as he continued to work. An older couple she didn’t recognize stepped out of the bakery and shot her suspicious looks as they passed.

Victoria shivered as big, wet snowflakes began to fall from the darkening sky. “Do you think we could go inside?” She danced from one foot to the other, her feet chilled in her two-inch leather boots. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“Well, maybe you should have gotten here earlier.” He paused to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Luke,” she said, tilting her head to the side.

He waved her away. “Go on inside, the door’s open. I’ll be right with you.”

“Fine.” She pushed open the door. A small bell chimed as she entered Legend’s and looked around. Nothing had changed inside and an unwelcome sense of familiarity washed over her.

The same wooden shelves lined the wall behind the counter, displaying rows of trophies, marking the town’s many achievements in baseball, football and soccer. The New York Giant’s number-eighteen football jersey that belonged to Mr. Jameson, the previous store owner, still hung on the wall above. The front window was decorated the same way it had been year after year, with red-and-white lights bordering a cardboard cutout of a Santa sleigh driven by the Brookhollow High Cougars mascot and pulled by the football players. Pictures of the various high school teams framed the storefront.

She scanned the photos, and one in the

corner—of the 1996 junior boys soccer

victory—caught her eye. In the top-row center stood Luke, grinning from ear to ear in his Crimson Cleats uniform, division trophy held high above his head. A knot formed in her stomach as she wondered if the Dawsons had heard of her visit and if she’d run into his family. Despite how close the two families had been in the past, his mother and sisters had been quite clear about how they felt about Victoria ever since the day she left town. Ever since she’d said goodbye to Luke and returned her engagement ring.

She turned away from the photos and moved farther into the store, stepping over boxes of sporting goods. Everything from hockey sticks to baseball gloves littered the floor. Judging by the scattered goods, Luke had run out of room to store his stock. That didn’t bode well for the acquisition. More stock and upgrades meant she’d need more money to buy out the store.

Toward the back she paused in front of Mr. Jameson’s personal display of sports memorabilia, an extensive and impressive array of autographed footballs and jerseys. He’d also collected rare baseball trading cards, secured behind glass frames. Victoria ran a finger along the edge of the shelf and a puff of dust rose in the air. She shook her head. These items were worth a lot and they’d meant something to Mr. Jameson. If he knew how Luke was caring for them, he’d be rolling over in his grave.

She moved away from the collection and continued toward the stockroom, giving the swinging door a push.

“Hey.”

At the sound of a voice above her head Victoria started and her hand flew to her chest. A boy stood precariously on the top rung of a tall ladder, balancing a large box over his head. “I’m just waiting for…Luke.” She watched, horrified, as the kid scurried down.

“He said he’ll be back in about ten minutes. Mrs. Norris asked him to hang Christmas lights in her store window.” He moved the ladder to the corner of the stockroom.

“Yeah, I saw him stringing lights on the roof.”

The boy smiled at that, and she immediately got the joke. Ginger Norris was known for her add-on projects. Left alone, the older woman could find things for Luke to do all evening.

As he picked up a box, Victoria held the door for him and he carried it past her into the store. He set his load down in an aisle and turned to her. “You’re Victoria Mason, aren’t you?”

She hesitated as she looked at the young man. His face wasn’t familiar, but then again he would have been a baby or not yet born, when she’d left Brookhollow. She nodded.

“I heard you were coming to town. Are you home for Christmas?” He opened a box and began stocking a shelf with baseball mitts. Stopping to examine one, he shoved his hand in it, punching the leather a few times with his other hand.

Great, even this kid had heard the rumors. Asking her mother to keep a secret was futile, and gossip in this place spread faster than wildfire. She wondered what people were saying about her. After all this time, she hated that she still cared about the opinions of her former neighbors.

She shook her head. “No, I’m only here for a few days.” Her holiday plans never included Brookhollow. Every year she insisted her parents visit her in New York over the Thanksgiving weekend instead. She and her mother shopped, and her father took in a sporting event. Thanksgiving dinner was usually Chinese takeout while watching the replay of the Macy’s parade. Regrettably, that was their only real time together each year as her busy travel schedule and last-minute acquisition trips made taking planned holiday time nearly impossible. Christmas was spent on the ski slopes in Vermont with her New York friends, where she could ski and relax on Christmas Day in front of the lodge fireplace, where they always did their Secret Santa gift exchange. It was the only real vacation she took each year.

She made a mental note to confirm her room reservation and spa booking at the resort. She’d been putting it off, unsure if her workload would allow her to take a full week or just a couple of days. She certainly needed it. Sixteen successful acquisitions this year had exhausted her.

The bell above the door chimed as Luke entered. A snowdrift followed him in and he stomped his boots on the mat near the door. A broad grin spread across his older but still handsome face. The radiance reflecting in his ice-blue eyes drew her in and, for a moment, she forgot why she was here. Her breath caught at the familiar sight that used to make her pulse race. Like it did now.

He moved past her to take a heavy box from the boy. “You can head out now, Steve. The snow is falling hard, and I told your mom I’d send you home before it gets dark.”

“Are you sure, Uncle Luke? There’s still a lot of boxes out there and the grand reopening is—”

“I’m sure.” Luke cut him off with a quick glance in Victoria’s direction. “Here’s the money for today and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He handed the boy several bills and his coat and gave him a friendly push out the door. “Call or text me when you get home.”

“Okay.” The boy nodded, tugging his hat over his head.

Luke pointed a finger. “Don’t forget, like last time.”

“I won’t.” Steve zipped his coat as he closed the door behind him. He jogged down the street, past the window, his head bent against the blowing snow.

She did the math. Alisha Dawson, Luke’s older sister, had been six months pregnant when Victoria had left town.

Luke coughed.

She turned to face him. “Grand reopening?”

He nodded. “That’s right. Next weekend, just in time for the last-minute shoppers,” he said, carrying several empty boxes to the back room.

Victoria collided with the swinging door as she followed him. She bit the inside of her cheek. Reopening with more stock for the Christmas season could generate significant profit for the small store. That would complicate a sale and drive the buyout price higher. “Well, hopefully, you won’t need to reopen. Play Hard Sports usually pays more than market value for the stores they purchase.” It made dealing with their acquisitions a pleasure.

She moved out of Luke’s way as he pushed past with more empty boxes.

He placed the broken-down cardboard under one arm. “I told you I’m not selling the store, so if that’s all you came for, you can go.” Picking up two large garbage bags, he headed for the front. “Right after you get the door for me.”

Same old Luke.

She refused to let their personal history distract her or forget her professionalism. Just because they’d been best of friends since the second grade when Luke had stood up for her against bullies in the school yard making fun of her braces and thick glasses. This was business. She pushed the front door open and stepped back to let him pass. But she couldn’t let him go without asking, “Why on earth did you buy this store?” She shivered as a gust of wind blew her blond hair across her face.

Luke studied her, his piercing eyes now void of emotion. “It must be worth something. Why else would your company send someone all the way out here to acquire it?”

Victoria’s gaze fell to his left hand. No wedding band. The relief she experienced both irritated and confused her.

“Well, we’re not actually interested in owning this store. My company’s client ran into complications obtaining a permit to build one of their own locations, with Legend’s still doing business nearby.”

“Well, I guess they’re out of luck. I just bought the place and I plan on keeping it.” Luke collected the discarded packing paper, crumpled it and tossed it into a waste basket near the counter.

“I’m surprised that you want to own a run-down sporting goods store.” Her eyes narrowed. The Luke she used to know would rather build and remodel the old-fashioned buildings in the downtown core, not own a business in one of them. He’d always had a talent for designing and building things. When they were kids, his derby cars were always the best in the race, and she remembered the lemonade stand he’d made her from the wood left over from building his sister’s tree house. The stand had been the summer hotspot for all their friends that year.

“We haven’t spoken in a long time. Maybe I’m not the same guy you remember.” Pulling a Swiss Army Knife from his jeans pocket, he tore into the remaining cardboard boxes, breaking them down.

Victoria watched him work. She had noticed the changes in him, despite her best efforts. Time had been good to him. He was bigger now, muscular and slightly wider around the waist. No longer the physique of a struggling architectural student. His face showed signs of maturity, but the fine lines around his mouth and eyes only enhanced his gorgeous, blond looks. The temptation to touch the five-o’clock shadow along his jaw was overpowering.

Luke straightened and his gaze met hers. “Besides, this store has a history in the community. That means something to most of us.”

Of course. Luke had worked in the store every summer when they were teenagers. Maybe his interest in preserving it made sense. “Okay, well I guess we should get to work.” She faked a smile, forcing her professionalism. She didn’t need or want to get to know this man over again. What she wanted was for him to sign her contract so she could get out of Brookhollow. “I’ll have an offer by Wednesday, but we should go over the preliminary paperwork as soon as possible.” She scanned the store for a place to lay out her documents. “The major chain store interested in purchasing Legend’s Sporting Goods is—”

Luke turned off the lights and unplugged the multicolored Christmas strand draped across the window. Only the glow from the pole lamp outside illuminated them.

“Do you prefer we do this in the dark?” she asked sarcastically.

He slid into his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck. “I have dinner plans.” He stood next to the door.

The familiar scent of his musky cologne made her pulse race. She suddenly remembered the nights she’d fallen asleep in his T-shirt, when he’d been away at college, enveloped by that smell. “Tomorrow, then.” She opened the door and stepped out into the frigid air. “I’ll come by in the morning,” she said through the icy burst of wind and snow. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a silver monogrammed cardholder. She popped it open with a manicured fingernail and slid one of her cards free, handing it to Luke.

“Your card?”

“It has my cell number on it.” Her teeth chattered. The sun had almost disappeared and the temperature drop in the last half hour was significant.

“Victoria, this is Brookhollow.” He laughed. “I could stand in the center and call out to you, and wherever you are, you’d hear me.”

The rich, deep sound of his laughter wasn’t at all the boyish laugh she remembered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Her cheeks flushed and she looked away. “Anyway, let’s not test that theory. Use the cell number.” But he was right; the card was unnecessary. If he needed to find her, it wouldn’t be hard. She shivered again, wishing she’d packed a warmer coat. The pretty white cashmere did nothing for warmth.

Her cell rang in her purse and, tugging off a glove, she dug around in the side compartment until she found it. The office number flashed on the screen. Shoot. In her stress over returning to town, she’d forgotten to check in. “Hello?” she answered, turning away from Luke.

“Victoria, it’s…” Static scrambled the receptionist’s voice.

“Kim…Kim, you’re breaking up.” She moved a few feet down the street. “Can you hear me?”

“Victoria?”

“Yes, I’m here. Can you hear me?” Silence. Victoria held her phone up in the air, shook it then brought it back to her ear. “Kim?”

Call failed.

Small-town reception.

She sighed and turned back to Luke who seemed to be hiding a laugh behind his hand.

“What’s so funny?” She glared at him. She’d love to know exactly what aspect of this turn of events he found so entertaining. She glanced at her phone again. By now she suspected her would be full, as well.

Luke cleared his throat and shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, looking down the street. “Hey, check out your rental.”

She turned and gasped. A large amount of snow had fallen in the short time she’d been in the store.

“I have a snow scraper in my truck. Give me a second, and I’ll grab it.”

Victoria grabbed his arm to stop him.

His gaze fell to her glove on his sleeve, and she pulled her hand away. “No, that’s okay. I have one in the car.” She hoped. Rule number one in an acquisition: Don’t indebt yourself to the seller. She began to walk away, her toes icicles in her two-inch-heel boots.

Luke shrugged, checking his watch. “Suit yourself,” he said as he disappeared around the side of the building.

Victoria’s temple throbbed a she stood frozen in place, watching him walk away. This would be the hardest acquisition and opponent she’d ever gone up against.



Luke raked a hand through his thick, snow-covered hair as he made his way carefully on the slick sidewalk to his truck. Despite the below-freezing temperature, sweat pooled on the back of his shirt beneath his coat. Victoria Mason. He’d known she was coming. Had been expecting her, but certainly hadn’t been prepared for the sight of her. Even more beautiful than the photos he’d seen posted on her Facebook page.

She obviously still knew the happenings in the small town she’d abandoned two weeks before their wedding. Enough to know the store was in a transition, during which time it could be vulnerable. He’d never thought she’d be capable of something like this, though. The big city certainly changed people. The girl he remembered may have had a wild side and a stubborn streak, but she’d been kindhearted and well-meaning. The Victoria he fell in love with would never have considered pulling something like this.

She’d always been interested in the betterment of the community…and of him. If it wasn’t for her belief in him, he might never have considered applying to college after having struggled with academics throughout high school. The support and encouragement she’d always offered him made it impossible for him to stay angry with her now. But he didn’t understand how she could be back here to buy out his store.

How could she forget the contributions that Legend’s made to local organizations each year? Without the sponsorship programs provided by the store, the junior hockey team—the Brookhollow Blades—wouldn’t have the funding to compete against bigger-city teams. He wished she’d tried to pull this a year ago when Mr. Jameson had been in charge. Now Luke was forced to deal with his ex-fiancée himself. He prayed he was up for the challenge.

The store’s role in his own involvement with sports from a young age was the reason he’d agreed to buy it when Mr. Jameson had asked him about it a month before he’d passed away. Claiming Luke was the closest thing to family he had, because of the bond they’d formed while working in the store and their shared passion for sports, he’d sold him Legend’s for next to nothing. Luke hadn’t the heart to refuse. He just hoped the business generated some profit in the New Year, otherwise the overhead would cut into his capital.

Climbing into his truck, he turned the key in the ignition. The old engine resisted. “Come on…” he said, closing his eyes and trying again. The engine sputtered to life. If it lasted the winter, he’d consider himself lucky. He hated the idea of parting with the old beast. Good memories were tied to this truck—Victoria close to him as he drove, her hand tucked in his.

After all this time, he’d hoped he wouldn’t have reacted to her as he had. He barely thought of her anymore. Okay, that was a lie. He thought of her more often than he cared to admit. Thought of her smile, her laugh, her soft skin…how she’d left him, and how he’d been crazy to just let her go. Frowning, he turned the truck onto the quiet street. He’d been angry and hurt for a long time, but the emotions had turned to a dull longing. He’d fought every urge to contact her, despite the attempts of social media to reconnect them through mutual friends. He always found a reason to be out of town when there was a chance she might be coming in—Rachel Harper’s wedding three years ago…her grandmother’s funeral two years before that… Now here she was and there would be no avoiding her.

She would be gone before the week was over, but only if he gave her what she came for.


CHAPTER TWO

“Since when is Luke Dawson interested in owning an old sporting goods store?” Victoria asked her mother an hour later.

Sheila Mason bent to look through the glass of the oven door. Her light blond hair, streaked with gray, was tied in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck and fell over one shoulder. The rich aroma of her chicken-and-mushroom casserole filled the kitchen. “I don’t know, dear.” The timer on the oven rang and she hit the off button on the stove.

Victoria paced the kitchen, biting her thumbnail. Her perfect manicure didn’t stand a chance of surviving the week.

“Stop biting your nails.” Her mother smacked her hand away from her mouth. “Can you hand me the oven mitts?” Opening the oven door, she fanned the blast of escaping heat.

Victoria opened the same kitchen drawer where the mitts had been for as long as she could remember. Nothing had changed here. From the antique table-and-chair set in the corner that had once belonged to her grandmother, to the lace curtains hanging in the tiny kitchen window, everything looked just as it always had. Even the advent calendar hung in the same spot on the wall near the window, where it had year after year. She remembered how excited she used to be on the first of December when they would fill the tiny squares with chocolate balls and count down the days until Christmas Eve. Despite the absence of children in the house now, her mother still kept up the tradition.

Victoria handed the mitts to her mother. “But I thought you said he was working for an architecture firm? And he usually worked out of town.” So many unanswered questions.

“I really don’t know. The store does mean a lot to Brookhollow.” Her mom shrugged, taking a knife from the block on the counter. “You’ll have to ask Luke those questions,” she said, cutting into the casserole.

Victoria’s stomach growled. “Since when have you become so tight-lipped?” she asked pointedly. Her mother would be the first one to admit she couldn’t keep a secret. She prided herself on being a source of information in town, even if that information wasn’t always accurate.

“Are you calling me a gossip?” Her mother faked an expression of shock. She set the knife in the sink and rinsed it. “Look, all I know is what I hear around town’ You know Darlene Dawson and I don’t talk much anymore.”

Victoria sighed. Her ignorance about what was going on locally couldn’t be blamed on her mother. She’d done her best to distance herself from the everyday happenings in Brookhollow. Over the years, she’d been successful in convincing herself that she wasn’t missing much. She grabbed a fork and sampled the casserole. “Oh, my God, that’s good.”

Her mother swiped her hand away. “Don’t pick. Your aunt and uncle should be here any minute and then we can eat.”

Her dad swung open the kitchen door and poked his head inside the kitchen. “Luke’s truck just pulled into the cul-de-sac.”

“What? You invited Luke? Mom, you can’t be serious.” Victoria dropped her fork onto the counter and turned toward her father. “And you—how could you not tell me?”

“I had nothing to do with it,” he said, quickly escaping the kitchen.

Turning, her mom set the dinner plates onto the counter and said, “Oh, relax. I saw him earlier today, replacing the burned-out bulbs in Ginger’s Christmas lights and he said he was looking forward to seeing you again, so I invited him to dinner.” Her mother shrugged.

“Mom, he is my ex-fiancé, in case you’ve forgotten. Not to mention my company is working for the store trying to buy out Legend’s.” She paced back and forth in the kitchen, frowning. How could her mother have invited him to dinner? How could he accept knowing the reason for her visit? And why hadn’t he said anything?

“Business is business, honey. I’m sure you two will figure that stuff out. But can’t you just put it aside for the evening and have a pleasant dinner with an old friend? I’m sure Luke has long gotten over the fact you left him at the altar.” Her mom waved a hand dismissively and busied herself with the pie she was making. “Even if his mother hasn’t,” she mumbled, rolling out the crust.

“I didn’t leave him at the altar.” Victoria stopped pacing, wondering how many times they’d had this conversation. Too many. “I called off the wedding two weeks before and, besides, he certainly didn’t try to stop me.” Memories of those last few weeks before her supposed wedding day were painful to recall. The stress of the preparations—her mother and Luke’s mother forcing her to taste wedding cakes and try on dress after dress—even though her heart wasn’t in it. The entire time, hidden in her bedside table drawer had been an acceptance letter for an entry-level position with Clarke and Johnson Acquisitions.

When she’d applied the summer before she’d never imagined the big New York firm would accept her application—she’d had only a two-year business diploma. But they had offered her a job and she’d had a month to decide. Keeping the offer to herself and struggling with her conflicting desires had created tension between her and Luke and had made her question her commitment to him. Their ideas about a life together had seemed worlds apart.

She’d chosen the unpaid internship with a dream of a future so different from the one he’d been planning, and left him behind. And he hadn’t tried to stop her.

Her mother waved a hand. “You know what I mean. Anyway, it’s in the past. At least I’ve learned to keep it there…unlike some people.”

Victoria shook her head. Her mother was impossible, and Luke’s mother would be furious if she found out. The two women, once best friends, hadn’t spoken since the day Victoria left town. According to her mother, she’d let the feud between them die, but Luke’s mother still held a grudge. The two avoided each other as much as possible in the small community.

The doorbell rang.

How was she supposed to sit at the same table with him, after everything they’d been through? She was here to do battle with him over a store. And this was supposed to be a pleasant evening? She peered through the glass opening of the kitchen door.

Luke shifted from one foot to the other on the front porch. Wearing clean jeans and his leather jacket, his short hair gelled into a spiky, controlled mess, he’d obviously gone home to shower and change.

She made no move to let him in. Why couldn’t he have gotten fat? Or bald? Or both?

“Victoria, go take off your suit jacket and brush your hair, while I get the door.” Her mom removed her apron and straightened her sweater.

Victoria held out an arm to block her mother. “I have a better idea. You go get pretty for Luke, and I’ll let him in. He may as well get used to seeing me at my worst.”



Victoria forked a lump of potatoes and savored the rich, buttery carb combination. No one used butter quite like her mother. If she wasn’t careful, she’d pile on a few pounds in her short visit. She pushed a mushroom around her plate, only half listening to the conversations around her. Her father, Uncle Frank and Luke discussed football statistics across the table and her mother and Aunt Linda complained about the new format of the Brookhollow View, the local newspaper.

“I can never find the movie listings or my horoscope. They keep shifting things from one section to another,” Linda said, shaking her head as she wiped her mouth with her napkin.

“Uh-huh.” Sheila nodded in agreement. “And last week the flyer inserts were missing.” She turned to Luke. “How’s the casserole?” she asked as she poured him another glass of wine.

“Thank you. It’s delicious…better than I remember.” He smiled and shot Victoria a glance.

She lowered her eyes to her plate. Just get through this meal. Her mother’s attempt to create a blast from the past was working. From their favorite dinner dishes to the old picture albums of the two of them in junior high and high school she’d produced before dinner, the memories were overpowering as they came rushing back.

The last thing Victoria wanted was to remember. Remember the long summer nights in Brookhollow when they would drive for miles outside of town, cut the engine and lie on the hood of Luke’s truck, gazing up at the stars. Or the fall days when they’d walk hand in hand through the leaves in the park and kiss in the shelter of the big oak tree that held their carved initials inside a heart. She’d forced those special moments from her mind years ago, replacing them with new friends, exciting work, brunches and dinners in trendy restaurants.

“So, Victoria, your mom says you still play soccer in the city,” her aunt said with a polite smile.

She nodded. “Sort of. I play on the corporate team, just once or twice a year. Usually some sort of charity game against one of our clients.”

“Well, with you on the team I’m sure they win every time,” her uncle said.

She hesitated, not wanting to disappoint him. Of everyone in her family, her mother’s brother, a retired lawyer, was by far the most understanding about her life choices. He’d told her time and again how proud and impressed he was by the success she’d had in the city. “Um…well, we’re actually not allowed to win,” she confessed with a wry grin.

“Huh?”

“Apparently, it isn’t good for business.”

Uncle Frank cocked his head. “Well, that must be tough for you with your competitive spirit.”

She laughed and admitted, “Yes, it is.”

“What about your volunteer work—do you still keep that up?” her aunt asked. She didn’t pause for an answer. “You know they still have that Adopt-A-Grandparent program you started years ago at the seniors’ complex.”

Victoria glanced at her mother. “Yes, Mom mentioned that.” The Adopt-A-Grandparent program seemed to be the last thing she’d done that her mom was truly proud of. Victoria had had the idea for a seniors’ visitation program when she’d been to see her own grandparents as a teenager. She’d always stay much longer than planned, playing cards or watching movies with some of the other residents without family nearby. The idea of asking other kids from the school to visit along with her had started small, with just a few of her close friends baking cookies to deliver or helping plant flowers in the complex garden, but then it quickly grew into a larger program organized by the school principal.

“You were always up to something…could never sit still for long.” Linda chuckled.

“From what I remember, you were quite the handful sometimes, too,” Frank teased her.

It was to be expected that her uncle would bring up her long-ago antics. Despite her visits to Brookhollow over the years, she hadn’t spent much time with her extended family. Whenever she came to town for weddings or funerals, she stayed a day or two at most—the only time her busy work schedule would allow. A pang of regret hit her then. She should have tried harder to find the time.

She blushed as her eyes met Luke’s. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do,” her father piped up. “Should I remind you of the time you snuck into the science lab at the school and rescued all those rabbits you thought they were planning to use for experiments?”

Linda, a tenth-grade math teacher at the school, chuckled. “I remember that. The school had agreed to house them overnight while the local pet shop painted the bunny room. It was the only place in town big enough to keep all of them.”

Victoria winced as the others laughed. How was she supposed to have known? If the science lab had in fact been planning to use them for experiments, everyone would have praised her good deed. Instead she’d gotten a suspension for breaking the lab window. “I still think Mr. Douglas was up to no good,” she said. The twelfth-grade biology teacher had always seemed strange to her.

“Mr. Douglas is a vegetarian. He’d never hurt a fly.” Her aunt shook her head and wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye.

“I think my favorite was when you and Rachel tied yourselves to that big maple tree in the park, to save it from being cut down,” remembered Uncle Frank.

“That would have worked…if it had been the right tree,” she mumbled.

Another fit of laughter erupted around her.

Her mom stood and collected the empty dinner plates.

“Mom, sit. Let me clean up,” she offered, her chest tight. Please, let this be the only family dinner on this trip. All this talk about her childhood antics was taking its toll. No one seemed to recognize that she wasn’t that kid anymore. She’d actually made something of herself in the city. She no longer had time for volunteer work and sports…but it was because she was accomplishing great things. It was hard to feel proud of her success in the city when her family and friends in Brookhollow only seemed interested in her adolescent ventures. Collecting the plates from her mother, she pushed through the swinging kitchen door with her hip. She set the plates on the counter near the sink and leaned against it. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Oh, thank God. Her service must be back. She reached for it. A new text from a Brookhollow area code.



Do you need help escaping through the kitchen window?



Tension seeped from her shoulders and a genuine smile formed on her lips for the first time that day. She glanced from the kitchen window to Luke.



Now do you understand why I stay away?



Luke smiled as he responded. You’re even prettier than I remember.

She blushed, caught off guard by the compliment. Her thumbs flew over the keypad.

Nice try, but flattery won’t work. Hitting Send she folded her arms across her chest. His smoldering, deep blue eyes were merely a speed bump on her way to another successful acquisition.

She fought to hide a smile as she read, Meaner, too.

Taking a sip of wine, he sat back in his chair.



Not mean, just determined to do my job.



Waiting for his reply, she turned and filled the sink with dirty dishes. Her parents still refused to install a dishwasher in the old home.

The phone vibrated on the counter and she reached for it.



No matter what it takes?



She hesitated. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t do for her career. After working from a junior associate to her current position, busting her butt with long hours, extended trips, living from a suitcase, never having time for anything else—including a real relationship—failing wasn’t an option.



No matter what. Don’t stand in my way, Luke.



She peered through the window watching as he read and replied.

Don’t think I’ll step aside quite so easily this time, Victoria.



Her heart pounded as she turned away. Were they still talking about the store?

Setting the phone aside, she scraped the dirty plates into the garbage can and stacked them in the sink. A moment later, out of the corner of her eye she noticed Luke pacing the back porch. He’d excused himself to take a call, and she tried to tamp down her curiosity.

Luke smiled, and she watched his moving lips, wishing she could read them.

Her mother hadn’t mentioned otherwise, so she’d assumed he was single. But then again apparently her mother couldn’t be trusted as a source of information about Luke anymore.

Of course he must have someone special in his life; he was gorgeous. She wondered who it could be. Every single woman in town would be vying for his attention. She bit her lip, watching as he picked up a shovel on the deck and, cradling his phone against his shoulder, cleared a path to the stairs leading to the yard. With his back to her, she took the opportunity to study him. In his faded jeans and leather jacket, he looked better than ever. She’d always been attracted to him, but she hadn’t remembered him looking quite so irresistible.

Luke set the shovel aside and turned toward the window. Seeing her watching him, he waved.

Victoria’s cheeks flushed, and the wet dinner plate slipped out of her hands. She caught it before it hit the floor. Quickly, she turned her attention back to the sink.

A moment later, the back door opened and Luke appeared beside her. “Brrr. It’s cold out there once the sun sets.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded as she scrubbed the plate with a sponge.

Luke peered into the sink over her shoulder, his warm breath on the back of her neck. “I think those little pink flowers are supposed to stay on the plates.” He picked up a dish towel.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ve got this.” She laid the plate in the drying rack and motioned for him to give her the towel. “Go into the living room and relax with my parents.” Or leave. Either would work. She just wanted him as far away from her as possible. Spending time with him was proving difficult. Beyond the physical improvements, he was even kinder, funnier and more familiar than she could have imagined.

“No way. It’s the least I can do for supper.” He moved the towel out of her reach and picked up a handful of forks from the drying rack.

His cell phone rang in his shirt pocket and he checked the caller ID. He slid the phone, unanswered, back as it continued to ring.

“If you have to get that, I can finish up here.” She nodded toward his vibrating pocket.

Her BlackBerry had once again lost signal and she was eager to return to the bed-and-breakfast to catch up on missed calls and emails.

“No, that one can wait,” he said, placing the forks in the cutlery drawer and reaching for a plate. “My brother-in-law, Roy, is retiling their downstairs bathroom and he has a million questions.” He laughed. “I offered to just do it myself—it would be faster and easier.”

She hated that the sound of his laugh and the sight of his smile still had such a profound effect on her.

Luke sniffed the air. “Your mom is a fantastic cook.” Opening the oven door, he looked inside at the pumpkin pie.

“You better close that before she comes in here and catches you,” she warned, washing the last plate and setting it aside. She took the dish towel from Luke and dried her hands. “And I wouldn’t let your mother hear you say that.”

Luke closed the door and studied her intensely. “How about you? Have you acquired any new baking skills?”

“No.” Victoria had never been the culinary wonder her mother was; she’d never had the desire to learn, despite years of working at Mrs. Norris’s bakery in the summer. “I’m too busy to bake.” She shrugged and removed the apron from around her neck, hanging it on the hook near the pantry.

Luke’s gaze dropped to her waist. “Looks like you’ve been too busy to eat, too.”

She tugged her shirt lower and cleared her throat. “So, I heard about your dad’s heart attack last year. How is he?”

“Better,” Luke said with a nod. “After his bypass surgery, he’s feeling much better. It’s one of the reasons I try to spend more time here in Brookhollow now, working on local construction projects…to help out. Dad won’t admit he can’t do certain things’ I was sorry to hear about your grandma. I would have attended the funeral, but it happened so suddenly, and I was away.”

She dismissed that with a wave of her hand and said, “I barely made it myself. I flew in from an acquisitions trip to Minnesota, then took the red-eye back out.” Her maternal grandmother, her last remaining grandparent, had died from a stroke several years before. As a child, Victoria had spent a lot of time with her, chattering away as her grandma planted flowers in her garden or sitting on the porch, holding her wool as she knitted hats for the maternity ward at the hospital. After she moved to New York the two had remained close, talking at least once a week. She missed those conversations.

Her grandmother had always encouraged her to do what made her happy, regardless of what others might think.

Wiping pie crumbs off the counter onto her hand, she said, “Dad told me you helped him with the deck last summer’ That was nice of you.”

“Ah, your dad did most of the work. Even retired, he’s a fantastic contractor. Definitely knows his stuff,” Luke said. “He told me about your promotion and that you bought an apartment a few months ago. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Victoria’s gaze met his and she laughed.

“What’s funny?” Luke asked. But he was grinning, too.

“Just that we haven’t spoken in forever, yet we know enough about each other to write a book.”

Luke laughed. “Small towns.”

His cell phone rang again.

He took the phone out of his pocket, checked the call display and silenced the call.

“You’re quite the busy guy. Your phone rings almost as often as mine…when I have service.” She grabbed the oven mitts as the timer beeped on the stove. She took the pie out of the oven and set it to cool on the rack her mother had put out, as she made a fresh pot of coffee.

“Yeah, sorry…work.” He shrugged. “This is a busy time of year.”

“The store’s closed,” Victoria said with a frown.

“My other job.” Luke didn’t elaborate.

Victoria fought every last impulse to question him further. It was none of her business. The only thing she cared about was the store.

“Oh,” she said simply, serving the first piece of pie and pushing the dish toward him. She plated the rest and carried them on a tray into the living room, where she served them to her parents and aunt and uncle.

Her mother raised her eyebrows. “You’re not having any?”

“I’m stuffed from dinner.” Victoria faked a yawn and glanced at her watch. It had been a long day and she had work to do. “Actually, Mom, I think I’m going to head back to the bed-and-breakfast.”

Her mother glanced at the clock on the mantel above the fireplace. “I guess it is getting late. Oh, don’t forget to take some stuff I thought you might like to have from your old room.” She pointed to the box near the doorway.

Victoria cringed inwardly. Just recently, her parents had finally converted her old bedroom into a sewing room for her mother. The pink walls that used to hold posters of her favorite rock bands were now painted a light tan. Her cheerleading and soccer trophies that used to line the bookshelves were in the attic, replaced by her mother’s collection of patterns. She suspected the pictures of herself and Luke and her friends had found their way into the overstuffed box near the door and she wished she could somehow escape without taking it. She’d purposely left all of this behind.

She bent and picked up the heavy box and turned with a forced smile. “Good night, Dad.”

“Drive safe, honey. The roads are slippery,” he cautioned. He reclined the leather recliner and rested his pie plate on his protruding belly.

“I will. Bye, Mom. Uncle Frank, Aunt Linda.” She advanced toward the porch and gave a quick nod in Luke’s direction. “I’ll see you in the morning…at the store?”

His determined gaze met hers and he nodded. “You bet. You need help with that box?”

“Nope, I got it.” She struggled to open the front door, balancing the box on one arm, then stopped. There was no escaping him. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Luke…you’ve got me blocked in the driveway.”

He swallowed his mouthful of pie and set the plate on the end table. “Sorry, I forgot.” He grabbed his keys and met her at the door.

“Hey, look where you kids are standing.” Her mother chuckled, pointing to the door frame above their heads.

Victoria looked up. Mistletoe hung about three inches above them. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. “Forget it, Mom,” she said, shaking her head as she reached for the door handle. She doubted very much Luke wanted to kiss her, either. She took a step outside, but Luke’s grip on her arm drew her back in.

He looked amused. “It’s mistletoe, Victoria. It’s tradition.”

Her mouth gaped. He couldn’t be serious.

He moved toward her, and she took a step back. His hand tightened on her shoulder, as he lowered his head.

He is serious. Her mouth went dry, and she licked her lips. “Luke…” Her protest was muffled as his lips landed on hers.

The kiss was quick and soft, but her knees weakened under its effect. Off balance, she reached out and grabbed his arm, starting to lose her hold of the box. Luke tightened his grip on her waist to steady her as he moved away and took the box from her.

Victoria’s trembling hand flew to her lips where his had just been.

“That’s the trouble with mistletoe,” he said, his gaze piercing. “You can’t always control who you find underneath it.”



Luke jumped into his truck and slammed the door. The heat of the simple kiss made him only distantly aware of the cold air inside the cab. He slid the key into the ignition. The memories of their past together had faded over time…and then she’d come back. That’s all it had taken.

He’d had the urge to kiss her the moment he’d seen her shocked expression in the store earlier that day. But he hadn’t expected his own reaction to the kiss, which had been meant to annoy her. The joke was on him.

The woman was here for one reason—to take his store away.

His cell buzzed on the passenger seat. “Hello?” he answered, cradling the phone against his shoulder as he turned on the headlights and backed out of the driveway.

“Hey, man, where are you?” His buddy Jim Bishop could barely be heard above the loud background of his surroundings.

“Just leaving the Masons’ house.” Luke shivered, finally registered just how cold it was. The heater in the old truck was cranked, but only chilled air came out of the vents. Ice crystals formed on the inside of the windshield and he rubbed it with the sleeve of his jacket, clearing a narrow chunk of window to see out.

“What were you doing over there?” Jim yelled into the phone.

Luke cringed and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Mrs. Mason invited me to dinner and you know how much good it does to argue with that woman.”

Jim laughed. “I would love to be a fly on the wall when your mom finds out…and she will find out.”

Jim was right. His mother would know soon enough and he dreaded the conversation that was bound to ensue. “Yeah, well, try to keep the news to yourself.”

“You got it. Hey, if you’re on your way home, why don’t you stop by the pool hall? Bob’s wife let him go out tonight and Darren’s on his way.”

Luke hesitated. “Who’s on bar tonight?”

Jim laughed. “You know, if you didn’t break the hearts of all the waitstaff around here, you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”

“That’s not what happens.” Luke scoffed. “We date, we have fun, then we mutually agree to go our own ways…” Most of the time anyway. Of course there may have been women who’d been hoping for something more from him, but he’d learned his lesson about serious relationships the hard way a long time ago.

“Is that why you’re still avoiding Hayley?”

“I’m not avoiding her… I just don’t trust her to pour me a drink at the moment.”

Jim’s loud, hearty laugh came through the phone again. “Well, don’t worry, you’re safe. Melody’s on bar tonight.”

“Perfect.” Luke pulled into a driveway and turned the truck around. A few games of eight ball were just the thing to clear his head. If he’d learned anything so far, it was that he would need his resolve when dealing with his ex-fiancée. “I’ll be there in an hour. I have to stop by the house to let the dog out first.”

“Great, bring your wallet.”

“Sure. I have no problem taking your money.”


CHAPTER THREE

Victoria scanned her room at the bed-and-breakfast, trying to figure where the noise was coming from. She glanced at her laptop screen. The annoying buzzing came from the cable Mrs. Harris had given her to connect to the internet. A timed-out error message appeared on the screen and the buzzing paused, then resumed. Her mouth fell open. Seriously, dial up? She rested her head in her hands as she waited. When Mrs. Harris had said the Brookhollow Inn had internet access, she’d assumed it was Wi-Fi.

The color-themed guest rooms, occupying the two upper floors of the four-level estate were still decorated in an intriguing mix of Victorian, French country and European Old World. Downstairs, the common areas consisted of a sitting room near the front of the house with a large stone fireplace, handcrafted furniture and bookshelves lined with magazines and novels. These were the better-maintained areas of the house, and Victoria suspected it was because they saw the least amount of use.

The dining area with its six-round wicker table and chair sets extended onto a magnificent, large wraparound deck with a view of the big, fenced yard. She’d been disappointed to see that the large floor-to-ceiling, stained-glass windows were chipped, and the floral wallpaper was outdated and peeling in the corners. The weather-worn gazebo still stood in the center of the yard, near the rock waterfall overrun with weeds; it had been the location she’d selected for the wedding ceremony. In summer, the garden had been the perfect backdrop. Now, draped in mounds of snow and ice, the bare trees and neglected rock beds seemed just a sad shadow of a more elegant time.

The buzzing stopped and her home page opened at a snail’s pace. She typed her remote access login and password and hit Enter. Nothing. The hourglass icon appeared on the screen. “Oh, come on.” Her BlackBerry revealed thirty-two new messages, which the cell service here maddeningly prevented her from accessing. At this rate it would take her until midnight to read and respond to them all. Her voice mail could wait until morning; it was too late to return calls now anyway.

She stood and stretched at the bedroom window. The street below was dark and quiet—a typical Monday night in Brookhollow. In the city, the sound of traffic and the glow of lights were a constant reminder of life in continuous motion. She missed the noise and distraction. Here, the silence allowed her to hear her own thoughts.

Raising a hand to her lips, her cheeks heated. When she’d left home, she’d been certain the memory of Luke would plague her forever, but time and distance really did have a way of mending the heart and allowing you to forget. And then one simple kiss had shaken her.

A loud knock on the bedroom door made her jump and she released the thick curtain. Mrs. Harris? Her eyes widened as she opened the door. “What are you guys doing here?” Three of her best friends from high school stood in the hallway. She hadn’t told anybody she was coming to town and guilt now washed over her. She was here for work and she hadn’t wanted to mix business with pleasure. Rachel Harper was the only one she kept in touch with, and she’d been planning to stop in and surprise her at some point. Well, the surprise was on her.

“We went by your parents’ place. I thought you’d be staying there.” Rachel was struggling to catch her breath after the climb to the third floor. Her flushed cheeks held the glow of a woman eight months pregnant.

Victoria shook her head. “They finally transformed my old room.”

“Anyway, we didn’t want to wait any longer to see you,” Rachel said, struggling to lean in to give her a hug, her belly making it difficult to get close.

“Hey, girl, long time,” Lisa Cameron said as she hugged her next. “We haven’t seen you since Rachel’s wedding’ How long ago was that—three years?” Tall and thin, Lisa towered over the others, just as she always had. With her long, dark hair and slanted, hazel eyes, she could have signed a modeling contract anywhere in the world. It amazed Victoria that her beautiful friend had chosen Brookhollow and the domestic role of wife and mother instead.

“I know. I should visit more. I just travel so much for work, being at home in New York is a luxury.” Besides, she didn’t add, a vacation to Brookhollow couldn’t be classified as a vacation. She’d be constantly checking around the corner for a member of the Dawson family. One in particular, the one she couldn’t avoid this time.

Ava Miller took her hands. “Wow, you look even better in person than you do on Facebook,” she said, laughing. “And those are the best pictures anyone has of themselves.” She tossed her red hair over her shoulder.

Lisa nodded her agreement. “You’re telling me. Kenny has his high school football picture posted. He refuses to believe he looks a day older, despite the receding hairline and beer belly, which gives Rachel’s massive bulge a run for the money.”

“Hey!” Rachel protested, swatting her friend’s arm, as she joined them in laughter.

“It’s true, Rachel, you are huge.” Ava raised her eyebrows, staring at the protruding stomach fighting the constraints of the buttons on Rachel’s coat. “Are you sure you’re not having twins again? They say if you’ve had them once, the likelihood increases you’ll have them again.”

This would be Rachel’s third pregnancy and fourth child and the Harper family didn’t seem to be slowing.

“The doctor confirmed it—one baby.” Rachel looked terrified as she patted her middle. “He better be right.”

The playful interaction between her friends warmed Victoria. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed them. It shouldn’t surprise her that they knew she was in town. She suspected by now everyone did.

“Um…did you guys want to come in?” She glanced at the stack of paperwork on the desk and struggled with a sense of obligation. She really had a lot of work to catch up on.

Rachel waved a hand. “No, your friend from New York…” She paused, thinking hard.

“Heather?” Victoria guessed.

“Yes, that’s it. Sorry, I can’t remember anything these days with this pregnancy. I swear it’s like living in a fog for nine months. Anyhow, she messaged me on Facebook earlier today— I guess she found me among your thousands of friends.” Rachel laughed.

Two hundred and sixty-four, and not real friends. Mostly business acquaintances. She actually knew only a handful of people on her friends list.

“Anyway, she confirmed the rumors that you were arriving today and agreed that we had to take you out for a night on the town.” Rachel suppressed a yawn. She unbuttoned the top of her coat and fanned herself with her gloves.

Heather. She should have known. “You don’t look like you’re up for a night on the town.” Victoria smiled sympathetically.

Rachel scoffed. “Nonsense. I’m the life of any party. Let’s go.”

“That’s right, grab your coat,” Lisa chimed in. “I got a babysitter for the first time in six years.”

“Me, too.” Ava high-fived Lisa.

The two looked giddy at the prospect of an evening out. Something she took for granted in New York. Other than her extensive travel schedule, she had no real responsibilities. She was lucky. She could come and go as she chose. Her friends’ lives were foreign territory.

She didn’t want to disappoint them, but the messages in her in-box needed a response. She hesitated. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. I have a lot of work I need to catch up on.” A glance toward her laptop screen revealed the internet connection had timed out again. “Where would we go anyway?” she asked, eyeing them with suspicion. The choices in Brookhollow were slim. If they said the karaoke bar, she was locking herself in this bedroom.

“Just to the pool hall for a drink.” Rachel rested her hands against the back of her hips and blew a lock of wavy brown hair off her forehead.

Victoria frowned as she studied her friend. “I thought you were supposed to be on bed rest?”

“No, I’m fine now. I’m past the thirty-six-week mark, so the doctor says I’m okay to deliver anytime now.”

Victoria’s eyes widened.

Rachel laughed again. “Don’t worry, I won’t. Believe me, this little one likes it tucked in under my rib cage. I’ll be lucky to coax him or her out when it’s time.” She rubbed her side.

“I don’t know…” Victoria hesitated. “You guys could just come in for a while.”

Lisa glanced past her into the room and nodded toward the laptop. “They have free Wi-Fi at the pool hall.”

“I’ll grab my stuff.” Victoria dove for her coat.



As Luke drove past the Brookhollow Inn on his way to the pool hall, he stepped on the gas, ignoring the temptation to go see her. Of all the ways he’d envisioned her coming back to Brookhollow, he never in a million years would have expected this.

Noticing his gas light illuminated on the dash, he turned the truck into the lot of the only station in town. He had no choice, but before stepping out of the truck, he glanced through the front window of the minimarket, toward the cashier, holding his breath. Thankfully, Mike Fisher was working the night shift and not Mike’s sister, Cheryl. He was running out of excuses for why he hadn’t called her for a second date and, while he felt bad about it, he didn’t think it would be fair to lead her on when they clearly had nothing in common. Eight years his junior, he’d been hesitant to even go on the first date, but it turned out she was a little too mature for him. The ticking of her biological clock had been louder than the music playing inside the café. And while he could respect and admire her for knowing what she wanted out of a relationship, he also knew what he wanted. And he hadn’t given any thought to getting married and having children in a long time, not since Victoria.

Maybe Jim was right, he thought, as he jumped down from the truck and jogged into the store, he had to stop dating local women.

He pushed through the glass door and waved in greeting. “Hey, Mike.” He took his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out his credit card.

“Hey, Luke. My sister was just saying how your truck must get amazing mileage. We haven’t seen you in here for weeks. Forty in gas?” he asked, taking the card and sliding it through the register.

Luke blushed. “I’m not avoiding her… Of course not… I’m just…”

Mike grinned. “Avoiding her?”

“Yeah.” Luke looked away, embarrassed, as he replaced his card and slid the wallet into his back pocket. “Sorry, man. Your sister’s great’ I’m just not really looking for anything serious.”

His sisters had a theory about why that was. One they had no problem reiterating at each and every family get-together. Family dinners at the Dawson home often turned into an intervention, as they insisted on discussing his apparent fear of commitment. Ultimately, the blame always returned to Victoria and her untimely departure from Brookhollow.

While he couldn’t deny the theory held water, he knew his choice to remain single couldn’t be completely blamed on his ex. He just couldn’t seem to find anyone he wanted to spend an extended period of time with. No one he’d dated in recent years had challenged or intrigued him enough. He refused to believe he had unreal expectations.

“She told you about her one-year plan from date to altar, huh?” Mike said, handing Luke a pen to sign the credit card receipt.

“About five minutes in,” he confirmed, scribbling his signature and handing Mike back the pen.

“Well, you don’t have to drive the truck until you’re running on fumes. She’s going out with a guy on my hockey team. They’ve really hit it off, so you’re off the hook.”

Luke released a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“So, I noticed a green Infiniti rental with a familiar blonde at the wheel drive by this afternoon.” Mike leaned against the counter. “Anyone we know?”

“Yeah, the town troublemaker,” Luke confirmed with a wry grin.

“Aka Victoria Mason?”

“The one and only.”

“She’s here to buy out Legend’s Sporting Goods, right?” Mike asked as the phone behind him rang.

“If I let her, yes.” Once again he prayed he was up to the challenge of going head to head with her. The girl he remembered was persuasive and determined. He suspected she’d stop at nothing to acquire the store. She’d said as much, and that worried him.

“So what you’re saying is, the store is hers.” Mike grinned and answered the phone.



Rachel yawned as she stirred the ice in her virgin cosmopolitan.

Victoria glanced up from her laptop. “Are you sure you’re okay?” So far she’d sorted out many of the issues in her in-box, and she pushed aside her guilt for only half listening to her friends reminisce about the old days.

“Yeah.” Rachel nodded, despite her tell-tale droopy eyes. “I just haven’t been up this late in a while,” she said, struggling to hide another yawn behind her hand.

Victoria laughed, glancing at the time on her cell phone. A little past ten-thirty. In New York, she and Heather wouldn’t even have hit the clubs yet. Not that she would ever call the pool hall a club. Six pool tables were sandwiched in a dark corner near the bar and a tiny wooden dance floor, just big enough to hold a dozen people, provided the club portion of the hall. The bowling alley occupied the same building to the left and the movie theater was on the right. Not exactly a trendy hot spot. But somehow, it put her at ease, after the stress of the day.

“No… Kenny, listen to me… His rash cream is on the shelf next to the changing table.” Plugging one ear with her finger, Lisa yelled into her cell phone above the Christmas music blaring from the speakers.

Victoria picked up her phone, wondering how Lisa was getting cell service in here. Nothing. She shook the phone to no avail, and set it aside. Her provider was getting an earful when she could finally call them.

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Yes, that’s right…just put a thick layer all over his butt… Yes, bye,” she said shutting her old flip phone and shaking her head. “Seriously, that man wouldn’t notice something unless it jumped off a shelf and strangled him.”

“Jeremy has a diaper rash?” Ava asked, sipping her white wine. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yes. Last week he had a stomach flu and his poop was runny, you know…that yellow color—mustard consistency.” She wrinkled her nose.

Ava nodded her understanding. “With that rancid smell… I know it well,” she said with a shudder.

Victoria stared at the two. She pushed away her plate of chicken wings. It was too late to be eating fried food anyway.

“The poop I can handle. It’s the vomit. That curdled-milk vomit,” Lisa added, sitting back in her chair.

Ava waved a hand and said, “I told Darren, I’d change dirty diapers all day long, but vomit was his department.”

Victoria stared at her laptop screen, trying to drown out the conversation around her. Poop and vomit. Were these the same girls who’d refused to pick up their own dogs’ crap when the town implemented that law?

“Girls, I think we are grossing Victoria out,” Rachel said with a laugh. “Sorry. That seems to be all us moms can talk about these days. We’re dying for a night out, but then we all miss our kids.”

“It’s no problem, really. Sorry, I’ve been attached to this computer for the last hour.” Victoria scanned the remaining unanswered emails. She sighed and closed the laptop. She deserved a break.

“So, how about you? Any plans for kids in your future?” Ava leaned forward and a lock of her red hair fell into her face. She pushed it back and secured it with a bobby pin.

Victoria gulped her drink and shook her head. At this stage of her life, children weren’t even a consideration, and the prospect of having a family someday grew smaller with each passing year. Wiping the condensation from the glass with a finger, she said, “Um…no. My position at Clarke and Johnson takes up so much of my time. I travel a lot and there’s hours of overtime almost every day.”

“But you have a boyfriend,” Lisa said. “I saw pictures of you with a guy on Facebook.”

Pictures of her with a guy? Oh, Rob. She shook her head. “He’s just a coworker I dated for a while.” She should update her Facebook profile more often and maybe remove some of her older photos, especially now that Rob was engaged to another colleague. “Nothing serious.”

“So, there’s no one special in your life?” Ava asked, toying with the stem of her wineglass.

“Um…” She debated telling them about Jordan—a guy she’d connected with through an online dating site in a moment of poor judgment, self-pity and too much wine, four months before. With her busy travel schedule and his long hours on Wall Street as a trader, so far they’d managed to make time for three quick lunch dates and countless late-night chat sessions over Skype whenever she was out of town.

She was disappointed that those calls wouldn’t be possible on this trip, with the dial-up access at the Brookhollow Inn. She’d emailed him explaining the situation, attaching an invite to her company’s Christmas party on December 20. It would be their first real date and a chance to introduce him to her friends and coworkers. She hesitated. Her Brookhollow friends wouldn’t understand why she’d had to turn to online dating when she lived in a big city, full of interesting, single people. Nor would they understand that work took priority over relationships. “Not really,” she said finally.

Ava and Lisa shared a look.

It took all of Victoria’s strength not to question the exchange. So, she wasn’t married yet. She didn’t have a house full of kids. Did that mean she was a failure? Her mother certainly thought so, but she’d expected her friends to be more open-minded. She’d chosen a different path and there was nothing wrong with that. Was there? The awkward silence spoke volumes. She couldn’t stand it. “I mean, there is one guy.”

The girls looked hopeful.

“Go on,” Lisa urged, moving her chair closer to the table.

“Tell us about him.” Ava nodded.

“Well, right now we’ve just been texting and video calling a lot…a few lunch dates…” Victoria blushed, praying the confession didn’t sound as lame as she thought it did.

Ava looked disappointed. “But you are going to go on a real date?”

That was the plan. She prayed he’d be available the night of her Christmas party. The thought of going alone again this year was too depressing to contemplate. “Yeah. We’re just so busy with work.”

“That’s good.” Rachel sat straighter, apparently forcing herself to look awake. “Whatever, don’t pay any attention to those two. With or without a serious boyfriend, I bet your life in New York is so exciting. Like an episode of Friends.”

Victoria smiled. “Sure, something like that.”

“I knew it,” Rachel said. “Ow…” She grimaced and gripped her side.

“Are you okay?” Victoria hoped her friend hadn’t chosen this moment to go into labor.

“It’s fine.” Rachel struggled to catch her breath. “Just a kick.”

Ava and Lisa exchanged knowing looks. “I miss that part,” Lisa said, her eyes filled with tears, and she laughed. “Look at me,” she said, wiping her eyes with a paper napkin.

“It really is the best feeling, having life growing inside you. Don’t worry.” Ava touched Victoria’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll experience it someday.”

Victoria’s cheeks flushed. “Um…excuse me for just a second.” She pushed her drink away and grabbed her cell phone. Sliding from the barstool she made her way to the bathroom. Inside, her phone beeped. Amazingly strong cell reception in the bathroom at the pool hall, of all places. Finding an empty stall, she closed the toilet seat and sat, dialing Heather’s cell number.

Her friend answered on the third ring. “Hello? Vic?”

“I’m going to kill you,” she hissed into the receiver.

“What? Why?”

“For telling my former friends to take me out on the town!” This night was turning

into an intervention. Somehow, Victoria suspected her mother had set the girls up to remind her of everything missing in her life. It was working.

The door to the washroom opened and she heard someone enter the stall next to her.

She lowered her voice. “Do you even know what a night on the town around here means?”

Heather laughed. “So, it’s not New York, it’s your hometown.”

“To say it’s not New York is the understatement of the year. I’m at the pool hall, which is also the bowling alley, and the movie theater. They have a disco-ball, dance floor and get this—arcade games. The place hasn’t changed at all since we came here in high school.” She closed her eyes and rested her head in her hand. The familiarity of the place and the memories here made her chest hurt.

Heather was still laughing on the other end, unable to speak.

“That’s not even the worst of it. I’m here with a pregnant woman, about to fall asleep at the table or give birth any minute—I don’t know—and two mommies who can’t talk about anything other than poop and vomit. And I can’t participate in the conversation because I don’t know anything about poop and vomit.”

“Vic…stop…” Heather said, struggling to catch her breath.

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Victoria ground out.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, really?” Victoria rubbed her eyes. She had to get out of here. “I hate you for setting this up.” She stood and slumped against the bathroom wall. Her eyes fell to a set of initials inside a heart, drawn in black marker on the opposite wall: V.M. and L.D. Forever. She shrieked. They haven’t painted the walls in twelve years?

“What?” Heather sobered instantly. “What’s wrong?”

“The graffiti on the bathroom wall is taunting me,” she barked into the phone. “I’m seriously going to have a panic attack. Where are you anyway?” Her friend had also been assigned an acquisitions trip that week.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Heather.” Her tone was stern.

“San Diego. But it’s really not that great.”

“Liar. How do you always get the good trips?” In the past three months her friend had been to Miami and Phoenix. Victoria had been to Amarillo and Bridgeport.

“I’m dating the boss. It means I’ll never get promoted, but I get the good trips.”

Victoria shuddered. If that’s what it took, she’d rather be sent to Alaska.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll start getting sent to better locations in the New Year.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She wasn’t so sure. “Okay, I have to get back out there.”

“I’m sorry, Vic. I thought it would be fun for you to catch up with your old friends.” Heather sounded disappointed. “You always talk about them and the fun you had in high school. Kind of makes me jealous. I was always the outsider at my school.”

“I realize you meant well, but I just don’t know these women anymore. We certainly don’t have anything in common. I feel like my life is meaningless to them. My accomplishments mean nothing because I haven’t done them with a baby on my hip.” She let out a deep sigh and rubbed her forehead. She had to call it a night. The free Wi-Fi just wasn’t worth it.

“Don’t let them get to you. We will celebrate our lack of knowledge of poop and vomit at the Richardson the night you get back. First round of drinks and the cab are on me.”

She doubted that another girls’ night out would so easily put to rest the idea triggered by her old friends that life was passing her by, but she just said, “Okay. Talk to you soon.” Disconnecting the call, Victoria freed herself from the bathroom stall. She readjusted her pink cashmere sweater, relieved she didn’t know the other person at the sink. She washed her hands and smoothed her wavy, blond hair before walking out.

“I’m not sure she’s having a good time.” Lisa was saying as she approached the table. “I don’t think she finds our domestic life very interesting.”

“Well, I don’t see anything spectacular about being attached to a laptop and BlackBerry, either,” Ava said. “And she’s never going to get married and have kids if she can’t even find time to go on a date.”

“Remember who you’re talking about. Victoria’s never wanted those things. It’s not like she didn’t have the opportunity—she chose something different, that’s all,” Rachel said.

“Well, I still think she’s crazy for leaving Luke,” Ava replied.

“Speak of the devil, look who just walked in… Now this should be interesting.” Lisa blushed, noticing Victoria behind them.

She followed the other woman’s gaze toward the pool hall entrance and her heart sank. Couldn’t she get through one disaster today without him playing a role in it?

Luke stood in the entrance, scanning the almost-empty pool hall.

Lisa held up a hand in greeting.

Ava swatted her arm down, with a quick glance in Victoria’s direction. “Stop that,” she said in exasperation as Luke approached their table. “Great. He’s on his way over. Sorry, Victoria.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Victoria took a sip of her drink and fought to keep her hand steady. After all this time, despite her success in New York, her friends still thought she’d made the wrong decision. Well, she didn’t expect them to understand her motivations and ambitions. They never had. At least she could count on Rachel to defend her. Just get through this evening.

“Hey, ladies. Glad to see you three finally got an evening out. Ava, I see Darren over at the pool tables. Who’s with the kids?” Luke asked.

“They’re spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s.” She pumped her fist in the air, which made them all laugh.

“Rachel,” he said, “you look beautiful as usual. Quite the pregnancy glow you have working for you.”

“Thanks, Luke.” Rachel turned a deep shade of crimson, but it was obvious the compliment had made her evening.

Traitors. All of them. Victoria watched in amusement as the three women chatted up her ex-fiancé. Squinting in the dim lighting, she took in his strong jawline and blue eyes reflecting the glow of the Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling.

“Hey, Luke. Quit flirting and get over here.” Jim Bishop waved from the pool table and held up a beer.

Luke nodded as he moved around the table. “Excuse me, ladies. I have some money to win.” He paused by Victoria’s chair and lowered his voice to say, “I thought you were tired. Does your mother know that you lie to her?”

Victoria stared at the glass in her hand. “I don’t know, Luke. Does your mother know you had dinner at our house?”

Luke cleared his throat as he unzipped his leather jacket. “Well, our mothers don’t need to know everything, now, do they?”

“Enjoy your pool game,” she said, dismissing him.

He glanced at her computer on the table in front of her. “You brought your laptop on a girls’ night?” he asked. “Real party girl. Enjoy your evening, ladies.” He raised a hand and sauntered off.

Victoria resisted the urge to turn and stick her tongue out to his back. “I think we need another round,” she said, draining the contents of her glass. She stood and had to grip the edge of the tall bar table for support against a dizzy spell.

“Not me. I just texted Nathan to let him know I’m on my way. Sorry, Victoria, I’m beat.” Rachel slipped into her coat.

“No problem. Get some rest.” It was almost eleven. In New York, the night would just be getting started. In Brookhollow’s local hot spot, only a few quiet tables remained other than the boys shooting pool. She should call it a night, as well. She had the perfect excuse now with Rachel leaving. Turning toward the pool tables, her eyes met Luke’s. She’d stay for one more drink with the girls. She had been a little rude.

“Okay. Be sure to stop by this week and we’ll catch up some more.” Rachel got up from the table, adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder.

Ava stood. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Another glass of wine?” Victoria raised an eyebrow.

Lisa and Ava hesitated. No doubt the gap between their lifestyles was perfectly clear to each of them.

“I’d love to see pictures of your children if you have them.” She really was interested in their lives; she just hated that it stirred an unprecedented yearning in her.

The other two agreed.

“Okay then, I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll save our table.” Lisa was already digging around in her purse for pictures.

“Sure,” Victoria said. As if that would be necessary. The place was dead.

Approaching the bar, she ignored the cat calls from the pool tables. “Hi, Melody. Can we get another round?”

“Sure, Vic. How’ve you been?” The bartender, Melody Myers, was another old high school acquaintance. With a yawn, she poured vodka into a shot glass and dumped the contents into a short glass, before reaching for a can of energy drink.

She looked older than her thirty-two years. The lines around her eyes and forehead were deep and she appeared to have aged more than the rest. With her thinning face and even a few streaks of gray in her light brown hair, it was hard to believe they were the same age and from the same graduating class. Having lost her husband in a car accident the year before, she was raising her twin seven-year-olds on her own.

“I’ve been good. Busy…”

“Yeah, I noticed the laptop.”

Victoria ignored the hint of judgment she thought she detected in the woman’s voice. “How about you?” she asked gently.

“Taking it day by day,” Melody answered honestly as she shook a shaker and poured Lisa’s fruity cocktail, then grabbed the bottle of house white wine to pour a glass for Ava. She placed the drinks on the bar.

Victoria nodded as she reached into her wallet. Melody’s incredible voice had once kept her very busy at weddings and funerals. Victoria had always assumed she’d take it further. It saddened her to think that Mel’ody’s life hadn’t turned out exactly how she’d planned. She hesitated before asking, “Do you still sing?”

Melody wiped down the bar and deposited the cash in the register. She tossed the change into the tip jar after Victoria refused to take it. “Well, I’m still a star at the church and with my kids every night. That’s enough for me.” But there was a note of longing in her voice.

Victoria noticed the pictures of the young boys behind her on the bar mirror. Cute kids.

Melody caught her staring and smiled. The effect softened her hardened features. “David and Joshua—twins. Must be something in the water around here. Be careful,” she warned, nodding toward Luke.

Victoria’s cheeks heated. “Thanks for the warning—” she indicated her drink “—I’ll be sure to stick to this.” And as far away from Luke Dawson as possible, which would be a challenge given the reason for her visit.



Luke lined up a shot for the eight ball. He lowered his gaze to sight down the pool stick. Beyond the green felt, he saw Victoria saunter back toward their table, drinks in hand. Dress pants and a formal sweater for the local watering hole. He suspected she hadn’t packed a single set of casual clothes in her no-doubt designer suitcase. But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t fault her—she seemed to be living the life she’d always desired and he respected that. Drawing back, he let the pool cue slide between his fingers. The white ball spun toward its target, directing the other ball straight into the left-hand, corner pocket. “And that’s how it’s done.” He stood and grinned, as the other men booed.

Jim counted out the twenties in his hand. “Who invited you here tonight anyway?” he mumbled and turned to the group. “Come on, guys. One of us has to be able to take him.”

Darren shrugged. “He’s on fire tonight,” he said. “And I’ve already lost more to him than I’m going to tell my wife.” He drained his beer and stood.

“I heard that. I am just sitting over here,” Ava called from where she sat with Victoria and Lisa.

Darren grimaced. “Sorry, honey.” Joining their table, he wrapped an arm around his wife. “How about we head home and I’ll make it up to you?” he said, placing a kiss on her cheek.

Ava shot him a look. “Seriously? You just lost a lot of money and you’ve been drinking and you think you’re going to be romantic tonight?” She placed a hand over his face and pushed his puckered lips away, hiding her smile.

Luke joined them at the table. “How about it, Ava? Want to try winning back some of this guy’s money for him?”

Ava grunted. “Luke, do you remember the last time I played pool?”

“I do,” Melody called from the bar. “By the way, it’s going to cost three hundred dollars to fix that hole in the wall from the cue ball.” She pointed a finger.

“Shh…” Darren held a finger to his lips. “I can’t believe you reminded her.”

Ava glared at him.

“I hadn’t forgotten.” Melody shook her head and resumed filling the dishwasher with the dirty beer mugs and glasses. “And guys, this is last call.”

“At eleven-thirty?” Jim sat on the edge of Lisa’s stool. She shuffled over to make more room for her cousin.

“You usually close at one,” Darren said.

“Josh and David have a dentist appointment in the city first thing tomorrow morning, so I’m kicking you out early.”

“Okay, Mel. No problem. I guess I’m the winner here tonight.” Luke shrugged and folded the bills.

“Not so fast.” Victoria stood. “How much you got there?”

Luke’s face lit up with amusement. “You? You think you can tear yourself away from your laptop long enough?”

“I asked how much you’ve got there.”

Luke flipped through the bills. “Two hundred and eighty,” he said, studying her face as she bit a thumbnail.

She dropped her hand. “Double or nothing.”

He smirked. “You’re serious? You think you can beat me?”

“Without a doubt,” Victoria said confidently, moving closer to stand just inches from him. Defiantly, she stared him down.

She was even feistier than he remembered. Well, he had no problem taking her money, too. “You’re on.” He picked up her glass and drained it, then began choking and sputtering. “That’s disgusting. What was that? Cough syrup and vodka?”

“Red Bull and vodka.” Victoria grabbed the pool stick out of his hand and sauntered toward the table in the corner.

“You do know that stuff can kill you, right?” Luke said, taking the empty energy drink can from where Melody had left it on the bar and following her.

The others followed.

Jim grinned. “This is going to be good.”

Darren nodded.

“It actually says right on the label—Do Not Mix with Alcohol.” Luke held the can in front of Victoria and pointed to the fine-print metallic ink.

Victoria squinted. “It does not.” She pushed the can aside.

Luke was relentless. “It does.”

“Are we playing pool or not?”

Luke set the can down. Had she been fine-tuning her eight ball skills in New York all this time? Pulling the rack out from under the table, he flipped it and tossed it to her. “Rack ’em.”

Victoria caught it with one hand and busied herself collecting the faded, chipped, stray balls from the pockets. She leaned forward and arranged them inside the triangle. Her wavy blond hair fell over her shoulder and glistened in the light of the pool table. His gaze fell to her lips.

When she moved back, a dangling object above her head caught his eye. “Hey, Vic, look up,” he said. Mistletoe was quickly becoming his favorite Christmas tradition.

Victoria paused and glanced toward the pool table light overhead and the thin, very old and worn piece of mistletoe hanging from the edge of the lampshade. She reached up and yanked it free, crumbling the brittle leaves as Luke approached. “Oh, no. You’re not getting me that way again.” She straightened and pointed a finger at him as he moved closer.

He lowered his head, enjoying the panic in her green eyes. “Don’t even think about it, Luke.” The words were strained and he heard her breath catch deep in her chest.

Luke moved his lips to the side of her face, against her flushed cheeks. Placing a hand on her waist, he drew her closer. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kiss you,” he whispered in her ear.

Her eyes widened. “You’re not… I mean, good,” she said, evidently flustered.




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