Table of Contents
Excerpt
The Christmas Frost Series
Noelle’s Kiss
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sneak Peek at Holly's Heart
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing
Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
A shot of energy warmed my cheeks. This was undoubtedly the most incredible physical being I had ever seen, and he was looking at me. I continued to stare back, not knowing what to say, but certainly enjoying the moment, until that annoying college student interrupted my view by handing me my hot chocolate.
“Here you go, miss. That will be four dollars and twenty-five cents, please.”
“My treat.” Gorgeous Man’s low voice had come out of those lips that turned up at the corners, hip still against the counter, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Oh no, you don’t need to pay for mine.” I pulled myself together, proud for uttering a complete and coherent sentence.
“I’m happy to do it, Ms. Frost.” He pushed his at least six-foot-ten frame away from the counter and winked at me, sending warm honey gliding through my body. Oh, my goodness. He actually winked at me, and it wasn’t cheesy. It was absolutely hot. Then a light flashed in my mind. He knew my name.
I took a step back. “Umm…have we met?” Although intrigued, since my divorce I was over cautious where men were concerned.
“CBS 4 Denver, TV reporter Noelle Frost. Everyone in Colorado must know who you are by now.”
He had an adorable lopsided grin. I could get used to that. I relaxed a little. I had only worked for the station for a few of months, and it still surprised me when strangers recognized me.
The Christmas Frost Series
FINDING JOY
NOELLE’S KISS
HOLLY’S HEART
CHRISSY’S CATCH
These are the stories of the four Frost sisters, who overcome heartache, betrayal, and ghosts from the past to find true love and bring back the magic of Christmas.
Noelle’s Kiss
by
Cindy R. Williams
Christmas Frost, Book 2
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Noelle’s Kiss
COPYRIGHT © 2019 by Cindy R. Williams
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Debbie Taylor
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2019
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2921-5
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2922-2
Christmas Frost, Book 2
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To Jeff, my handsome husband,
“You got game!”
Chapter One
Digging around in the purple leather bag I called a purse, I found my wallet at the bottom below my phone, two notebooks, some vanilla lotion, a Polly Pocket, a handful of granola bars, and a bunch of pens and crayons.
“Hot chocolate with caramel—and add a little cinnamon plea—”
I glanced over and up…way up…to see who owned that deep voice coming from the stratosphere who had ordered the same thing I did, almost at the exact same moment.
I zeroed in on the most incredible sea-green eyes shaded by long, black lashes, proving my theory that men get the lashes. After a moment of blatant gawking, I shook my head to release the magnetic hold.
“Uh, yes, we will be taking two hot chocolates with caramel and cinnamon,” said the smooth bass voice belonging to those delicious eyes.
“Comin’ right up, Sharp Shooter,” replied the college student behind the counter.
“No coffee, huh?” was all I could think to ask the extremely tall, extremely well-built man grinning down at me.
“No, I stay away from concentrated caffeine.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter, tilting his head to the side to observe me better.
He stayed away from concentrated caffeine. I had no idea what that meant. I heard the words, but my mind was too caught up in the gorgeous specimen standing before me. A shot of energy warmed my cheeks. This was undoubtedly the most incredible physical being I had ever seen, and he was looking at me. I continued to stare back, not knowing what to say, but certainly enjoying the moment, until that annoying college student interrupted my view by handing me my hot chocolate.
“Here you go, miss, that will be four dollars and twenty-five cents please.”
“My treat.” Gorgeous Man’s low voice had come out of those lips that turned up at the corners, hip still against the counter, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Oh no, you don’t need to pay for mine.” I pulled myself together, proud for uttering a complete and coherent sentence.
“I’m happy to do it, Ms. Frost.” He pushed his at least six-foot-ten frame away from the counter and winked at me, sending warm honey gliding through my body.
Oh, my goodness. He actually winked at me, and it wasn’t cheesy. It was absolutely hot. Then a warning light flashed in my mind. He knew my name.
I took a step back. “Umm…have we met?” Although intrigued, since my divorce, I was extra cautious where men were concerned.
“CBS 4 Denver, TV reporter Noelle Frost. Everyone in Colorado must know who you are by now.”
He had an adorable lopsided grin. I could get used to that. I relaxed a little. I had only worked for the station for a few of months, and it still surprised me when strangers recognized me.
“Someone pay me already,” said the guy behind the counter.
Oh, why didn’t Counter Boy stay out of it? I was enjoying this, maybe a little too much.
Green Eyes turned toward the fellow, gave him a twenty, and told him to keep the change.
I stood there longing for the warmth of his eyes to come back to me. Sheesh, I was acting like a teenager crushing on some good-looking guy. My grip on my hot chocolate increased. Stop it, Elle. Shake it off. Get a hold of yourself. Then it dawned on me. This guy seemed familiar, yet I knew if I’d ever met him before I would never have forgotten him. He turned his toned, long and lean body back toward me. My brain did a reboot and I realized who he was.
I managed to get another sentence out of my mouth. “Thanks, Mr. Trayce. I appreciate the hot chocolate.” I turned to leave, wishing all the while I could think
of something clever or charming to say. “Oh, stop it, Elle. Just go.”
Mr. Trayce jumped back. “Stop what?”
Flustered and face flaming, I realized I had blurted that out loud. I gave him my best “I’m really not crazy” smile and choked out, “No, not you, I was talking to myself.” I maneuvered quickly out the door with as much dignity as I could muster. I tried to protect my body and my heart by wrapping my wool jacket tight around me against the blast of chilly Colorado wind.
Chapter Two
“I ran into someone today. He has the most gorgeous green eyes.” I swished a glob of bubbles with my finger and sank lower in the tub, careful not to let the vanilla-scented froth touch my phone.
“Do tell, Elle.” Chrissy laughed at the family rhyme she and my sisters had used on me for years.
“You have to promise not to tell Joy or Holly. I’d never hear the end of it.”
“Sure thing—now spill.” Chrissy’s voice grew more insistent.
Bringing it up may have been a mistake. I didn’t want her making too much of this. I was famous for having a brick wall around my heart ever since my divorce four and half years ago. Men were rotten—except my dad, and well, he’s not here anymore. A pang of sadness stopped my heart for a moment, as it always did when I thought of my parents and that horrible car crash at Christmas time after my divorce. Somehow the horror of their deaths and my nasty divorce seemed to meld together. What a terrible time it was, and sometimes still is.
“Elle, are you there?” Chrissy’s voice brought me back to now.
“Yeah, I’m here. Okay, it’s not that big a deal, but it was kind of fun. At least I noticed a man, which is saying a lot for me.” Those green eyes appeared in my mind again, and the warmth of the water was not the only thing I felt. The phone slipped and almost fell into the bathtub.
“What was kind of fun? You aren’t making any sense.” Chrissy’s voice grew louder.
“All right, all right, I’ll tell you. I stopped at Cuppa Joe’s to get my favorite hot chocolate—you know that delicious caramel frappe thing they do? I have them add a little cinnamon. It’s so yummy.”
“Ugh,” she groaned.
I chuckled. “I’m getting to it. So, when I was ordering, this giant man next to me ordered the same thing, even the touch of cinnamon. We practically gave our orders in unison, as if we had rehearsed it. Strange. When I looked at him, I melted. At least six foot ten, dark, glossy hair, filled out his clothes well, and then those eyes. Oh my—those eyes.” I stopped there, closed my eyes, and smiled. Those incredible eyes filled my world again.
“Earth to Elle. So, what happened?” the bothersome phone squawked at me.
“Hang on, Chrissy, I was having a memory moment. I mean, how long has it been since I’ve seen a man like that? Well, never. I met the most gorgeous guy on the planet, and I swear he seemed a little into me, too.” I giggled, feeling little butterflies flittering around my stomach.
“Wow. I uh…don’t know what to say. If it was anybody else, I’d laugh it off as a joke, but for you, the brick-wall queen, to be struck this hard by a guy—I don’t even know what to say.”
“He knew my name—said he recognized me from TV. Then I remembered who he was. You won’t believe it…Xavier Trayce.”
“Triple X? You met Triple X? He’s the most eligible bachelor in Colorado—maybe even the entire NBA. Every female who breathes has it bad for him.” Chrissy sounded in awe.
I sighed. “I know. It was…well…amazing. Then I blew it. Instead of being all cool and collected, I could hardly speak to him. Plus, I did my usual, you know, ‘talk-out-loud-to-myself’ thing. He thought I was talking to him. I didn’t know what to say then, so naturally I ran out the door.”
Silence from the other end of the phone, then laugher rang out.
“It’s not funny, Chrissy. My mouth stumbled and froze like a sixteen-year-old talking to the big-shot quarterback in high school. Oh well—at least I won’t see him again. Like you said, he’s the hottest guy around, and everyone’s out to get him.” Another deep sigh escaped.
Chrissy’s laugh continued.
“It’s not that funny,” I barked into the phone.
“Why do you always fall for basketball players? I mean, in high school it was yummy Danny McCaffrey; then in college that yucky Blake McNair you married, and now Triple X?” Chrissy had sobered. “But seriously, Elle, you be careful. Triple X is a known ladies’ man. After dealing with all the abuse from your creepy ex—you can’t go falling for another athlete. They’re bad news. I mean, it’s time you find someone to love, but not another athlete, p-l-e-a-s-e.” I heard the worry in her tone.
“Mommy? I can’t sleep,” said a small voice from the other side of the bathroom door.
“I’ll be out in a minute, sweetie.” I pinched out the vanilla candle in the corner of the oversized tub.
“Chrissy, I’ve got to go. Tatum must’ve had a bad dream. Besides, I think I’ve entertained you enough today. Don’t worry about me, little sis. I’m not falling for some big basketball player again. Talk to you soon. Love you. Bye.”
Chrissy managed to get out, “Love you more,” just like our mom.
****
Wrapped in my favorite pink, fuzzy robe, I opened the door to see Tatum curled up in my bed, sound asleep. My heart melted. Smiling, I left the room and made my usual nighttime round of the condo to be sure everything was in its place. I hated to wake up to a messy home. I checked the doors, turned the dishwasher on, got a glass of water, and shut the lights off on my way back upstairs to my bedroom.
After setting the glass on the nightstand, I said a quick prayer and climbed into bed, gently so as not to wake my little angel—my ray of sunshine. I lay on the pillow next to her and brushed back the wisp of hair from her forehead as I whispered, “I can’t believe you’re already a big kindergartener. You look so tiny. You’re the joy in my life, little one.”
I leaned over and kissed her soft, warm cheek. She smelled sweet, like berries.
Loving her had gotten me through the awful divorce. I had spent a great deal of time pondering what went wrong and why. He’d changed so much from when we first met. He used to be willing to work together to find happiness. We were a team. Then he became angry all the time. I still didn’t understand how in the world he could have become so…cruel. But worse, how could he leave this rosy baby girl?
My stomach tightened as I remembered the anxiety that filled my soul because of baby Tatum’s sleep apnea. I had to strap electrical leads around her chest and hook her up to a breathing and heart monitor whenever she slept. So helpless—each nap and night a life and death situation.
Blake didn’t seem to understand or even care. He demanded the baby sleep in another room down the hall.
The monitor often malfunctioned. A nervous wreck, I crept out of bed each night and curled up on Tatum’s floor with my hand reaching up into the crib, touching the side of her chest. I still woke up with nightmares full of his piercing voice berating me in the middle of the night as he yanked me off the floor shouting, “Leave her be. Get back in here with me. That is your place, woman.”
Not tonight. No…not tonight. I pushed the nightmare away, not allowing myself to think about the rest of it. I had to banish that recurring nightmare. Blake is out of our lives. He can’t hurt us anymore.
I mentally switched gears and focused on the memory of those green eyes smiling down at me from that lovely specimen of a man. My stomach settled down. Triple X—what a silly nickname for a basketball player. I know it’s because he tends to get more than his fair share of triple doubles in games, but Triple X, really? Maybe it’s also a play on his unusual first name, Xavier.
I snuggled in closer to Tatum and smiled as I drifted off to sleep. The last thing I remembered was hoping that tonight I would get a good night’s rest with those green eyes smiling at me in my dreams, keeping that dreadful former marriage nightmare at bay.
Chapter Three
; I woke up agitated, my mind full of images of that awful dream. Images of baby Tatum hooked to her monitor, crying as the alarm blared. Waves of panic smothering me as Blake held me down, preventing me from getting to her as he yelled, “You. Stupid Woman. Get that yapping baby to shut up.”
Then it flashed to Blake and a co-worker, Cherise, his umm, mistress, for want of a better title, together in our hot tub—appearing as one single silhouette framed by the moonlight.
Always the same nightmare—started and ended the same. It made me so sick, my stomach ached.
Once again, I thought about Blake’s terrible temper and how he’d treated me. I had protected Tatum from his angry outbursts, but worried constantly that she and I would do something to set him off. Abusers blame their victims and don’t accept responsibility for their own actions. I rubbed my stomach, reminding myself that it was over. Tatum and I were safe, at least for now.
Maybe the fact that he still had visitation rights and could exercise them at any time was what kept that ugly nightmare alive.
Eventually, Blake was mostly out of our lives. He had only arranged to see Tatum a few times before he’d moved to California. He had proudly informed me that he was living with a starlet and too busy to be bothered with a little brat.
I was thrilled. I didn’t want Tatum around him. I had worried about his horrid temper and didn’t want her subjected to it. He was certainly not the man I thought I’d married. I had to get over my past. I had to move on and let it go. I took a long, slow, deep breath and felt my stomach settling down.
I never talked about my recurring nightmare with my sisters. They would sympathize with me, but I was sure they would also insist I see a shrink to make it go away. Maybe I should.
Tatum still slept, so I rolled over to watch her. What an angel and a blessing. Matching my breathing to hers, I dozed off into a peaceful sleep until her little arm bonked me in the nose as she stretched herself awake.
“Hey, baby girl, watch the arm. Are you going to grow up to be a boxer?” I teased her.
“No, Mommy, I’m going to be a gymnaster.” She scrunched her nose at me.
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