He turned to face her and crossed his arms over his chest. “You have missed a lot of firsts. Dates, cars, broken bones, crushes.”
“Cole…for so many years I ran from what our family really is. That’s why I started drinking. We had to be delusional. I mean, who really believes they’re Father Christmas? And it started with my own dad. When he passed, Chris took over the fantasy. It was embarrassing. I wasn’t like Chris or you. I couldn’t find the Christmas spirit inside of me. And I tried. God knows I tried.”
“So you looked for the meaning of Christmas in drugs and alcohol?” Cole didn’t ask it with animosity. He was truly curious.
She hung her head, letting her frizzy gray hair fall over her face. “I’m not proud of that, but part of my healing had to be that I took responsibility for my behavior. And I do. I own it. I’ve made mistakes.” She looked at him, hopeful tears brimming in her eyes. “We can never get back all those years I wasted. But I pray we can have a relationship going forward.”
Cole snorted. “Even if I buy into the fantasy? I mean, I guess I’m next in line to take over the empire.”
Ivy walked past the dining room, following Chris to the kitchen. She glanced his way, paused, then lifted a brow, as if to ask if he needed rescuing.
Tension that had been gripping Cole’s shoulders melted away as her soft smile touched his face. He smiled back and lifted his chin, letting her know he was cool. With a tiny wave of her hand, Ivy continued on to the kitchen. Plates and crockery rattled and clattered as the others prepared to bring in the meal.
Cole looked back at Holly.
She was wringing her hands. “You’ll be good at it. My time away taught me to believe in miracles. And that you’ve become the man you are, despite my earlier efforts to obliterate the myth from my life, is in itself a miracle.”
“Good enough.” Cole offered his hand to his mother. He knew she would have preferred a hug, but he wasn’t there yet.
Her palm was warm and dry in his, her narrow bones near the surface. “Thank you. I promise to be a better woman, someone you can be proud of.”
“You’re a work in progress, Holly. We’ll get there.”
Lavinia marched into the dining room carrying a steaming plate of the most delicious-smelling pancakes. Chris followed with a bowl of eggs and a plate of fragrant bacon.
Ivy brought up the rear, bearing a carafe of syrup and the elf-shaped salt and pepper shakers that always made him smile. Today, the shakers reminded him of the day he and Ivy had dressed as elves for Santa’s arrival. In the time since then, she’d begun to overcome her fear of crowds, despite the Black Friday incident. She’d submitted her resignation and was prepared to join him in a business enterprise. She’d be a partner in commerce and, he hoped, in his personal life. He hadn’t known her long, but he couldn’t fathom life without her.
Warmth swamped Cole as he helped Ivy into the chair next to his at the table.
There was a small, brightly wrapped gift by Cole’s plate when he sat down next to Ivy. “What’s this?”
Chris’s jolly laughter rang out. “It’s a gift, silly boy.” That had been Chris’s response every time Cole had found a present at his place. “Open it,” Chris encouraged.
Cole sent a glance around the table. There were no other gifts. “I can wait. No one else has anything to open.”
Lavinia patted his hand. “This is a gift for us all.”
Cole gave in and reached for the present, sparing a glance at Ivy, who watched with a bemused smile. He ripped through the red and green paper and discarded it on his plate.
Shaking the box, he smiled at Chris. “Not breakable, I hope.” The routine had been the same for twenty or more years.
“You’ll never know if you don’t open the box.” Chris pointed a finger at him.
He slipped his finger under the flap and lifted. Nestled in tissue paper inside was, as he suspected, another snow globe for his collection.
Tears pricked his eyes. The couple inside the globe were embracing under the mistletoe being held over their heads by a child. Glittery snow floated around the pair. He turned the globe this way and that, discovering that the man and woman both wore gold bands on their left hands. It was meant to be him and Ivy. He brushed a knuckle under his eye then looked at Chris as he grasped Ivy’s hand.
“It’s perfect.”
Eighteen
The room sparkled with lights and laughter. It was December twenty-third, the night of the grand opening for the new Alpine Club. Ivy let her gaze roam the room, basking in the perfection of the moment.
She’d taken the last two days as vacation from the mall and spent the time with Cole, Holly, Sylvie, and the rest of the club’s board of directors to stage and decorate the interior.
When she’d first walked in with Cole a week ago, she’d marveled at how perfect the club was, how welcoming the kids and seniors they’d serve would find it.
Now, there was a large, noisy crowd crammed in the small space. Sylvie had invited all the past donors and some new, influential friends to the opening event. She’d busted her butt to set up a silent auction designed to raise money for the club. The bidders clustered around the auction tables, where people bid on the prizes. Ivy had stayed away from the table, because even though she was working through her crowd-induced anxiety, she was, as she’d explained to Cole, still a work in progress.
She’d donated her services to decorate a home for the next Christmas season. She only hoped people would see what she’d done in the club and willingly part with massive amounts of their money to have her bring the glitter of Christmas to their home. It was also smart as a business strategy, since she’d determined she would operate a seasonal decor company in addition to her staging and design services.
Garlands had been strung around the room, decorated with white and red lights and large, cellophane wrapped disks meant to look like peppermints. With help from Holly and Lavinia, Ivy had decorated five trees, each with a different theme, and placed them strategically around the room. Those fully trimmed trees would also be auctioned off at the end of the evening, another fundraiser for the club.
Curtains of twinkling lights and glittery snowflakes hung from the ceiling, resembling a perfect snowstorm. The entire effect was magical, and the delighted chatter of the attendees was praise enough for a job well done.
When Sylvie had learned that Ivy had turned in her resignation at the shopping center, she’d bombarded Ivy with offers of employment. Everything from chief cook and bottle washer to principal tutor. Ivy had capitulated under the assault and agreed to working twenty hours a week as volunteer coordinator. The money would be a nice perk while she was setting up her new business.
Although, by the way things were shaping up, it wouldn’t be long before her new enterprise took off. Cole had talked to his friends on the building council, and she had already signed contracts for two design jobs, scheduled to begin after the New Year.
Cole’s laugh boomed out across the room, where he was teasing Hazel. He held an old time stocking made of woven red threads over her head while she leaped to grab the toy-filled sock from him. Sylvie came along plucked it from his hands and handed it with a sweet smile to the little girl. Hazel ran away, as if to avoid having Cole steal it away again. In the meantime, Sylvie was shaking her finger at Cole, apparently reading him the riot act.
Cole grinned at Sylvie, then bent and kissed her cheek. That shut the woman up fast. Her finger was still pointed at Cole as he left her side and approached Ivy.
“Can you believe she actually told me that teasing Hazel would land me right back on the naughty list?” he asked as he joined her.
“Ha. She should know that the wonderful work you did with the rehab of this building, in the short amount of time you did, ensured your place on the nice list for a long, long time.”
And he had done a great job. He and his crew had transformed the old garment factory into a thing of beauty and modern utility. The large space was warm
and inviting, and the kitchen she’d helped him design was a masterpiece. The caterer they’d hired for tonight had already asked Cole and her for an estimate to update and remodel the antique theater next door to the club as a wedding and party venue.
They’d both be getting business from that job.
Cole nuzzled her ear, nibbling along the skin bared by her scoop-necked red cocktail dress. “I’m hoping later I can convince you to be naughty with me.”
She arched her neck, angling her chin to grant him more access to her skin. “It won’t take much convincing.”
He turned her in his arms and started slow dancing with her to the cheery carols being played by the DJ that Sylvie had hired for the opening. The magic of Christmas swelled around Ivy, who rested her head on Cole’s broad chest. This was where she belonged, embracing the moment, and looking forward to spending Christmas morning with Cole and his family. A small grin tugged up her lips. There was a strong possibility she could be the next Mrs. Santa Claus.
The tune was actually one of Weird Al Yankovic’s Christmas songs, one that Ivy had been playing on the day she fell in love with Cole.
One that was completely inappropriate for any young ears that were listening.
The scrape on the concrete floor next to her broke the spell between them. Hazel climbed on the chair with something small and green clutched in her hand. She hid it behind her back as Cole steadied her little body.
“What gives, Hazel?” Ivy asked.
“Santa gave me something and told me to do this.” She brought her hand up front and rose on her toes to hold the plastic sprig of mistletoe over their shoulders. “I’m not tall enough to make it go over your heads, so you have to pretend.”
It was exactly the same scene depicted in the snow globe Chris had given Cole.
Wonder filled Cole’s eyes as his glance shifted to the mistletoe, then to Chris, who saluted him with a mug of eggnog, and then back to Ivy. “I love you, Ivy,” he said as he drew her close.
“I love you, Cole.” Tears brimmed in her eyes, blurring her vision and making the twinkling lights dance. Her heart swelled like a balloon, floating and filled with joy. The joy of the season. The joy of magic.
The joy of love.
“Well, kiss her already,” Hazel demanded, stretching further to hold the mistletoe over their heads.
And he did.
The Beginning
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Keep reading for a peak at another holiday romance from Gemma Brocato
She let him go to pursue his dreams without telling him she was pregnant. Five years later, he’s back in town and her secret’s out. Can they get over past hurts to seize a future for their small family?
Turn the page to read the first chapter…
Unexpected Daddy
“Kai! Stop that, please.”
Frustration laced Harper Lee Flynn’s words as she spoke sharply to her rambunctious five-year-old. Hours in the car for the last three days, and a restless night filled with haunting memories added desperation to her voice. Emotion clanging off the postal boxes and stamp machines dotting the lobby area of the Durango Post Office battled with the rattle of her tiny tot slapping his palm on the window.
Darting a glance to the outer doors, she was swamped by the urge to get in and out as quickly as possible. Less chance of running into someone…anyone…she knew. She shot a harried look toward the patrons in the inner lobby, waiting patiently for their turn at with a postal attendant instead of taking advantage of the self-service options.
God, the building and décor were depressing. December 26, and the sparse fake tree looked forlorn and defeated in one corner. Muddy footprints marred the floor. Plastic glitter masqueraded as snow and spilled off the garish red tree skirt, scattering like ashes across the concrete.
It wouldn’t have been her choice to drive over the Christmas holiday. The lengthy drive sucked, and not being somewhere Santa could find them was especially hard on Kai. But the day after was the only one the real estate agent could fit her in. And she wanted her mom’s house listed and sold as quickly as possible. After dragging her butt out of bed super early for the appointment, she’d hustled her protesting son into the car again and bee-lined it here to pick up three months’ worth of mail. That’s how long it had accumulated since her mom had spent her final days in the Alzheimer’s care unit. Judging by the single note she’d pulled from Box 1287, with a request to contact a postal clerk, mail might actually have been piling up quite a bit longer. It also meant her goal of speed and stealth was toast.
“Mama? Why isn’t there any snow?” Thick dark hair tumbled over Kai’s forehead. Nose pressed against the window, he stared out into the parking lot. Cars, trucks, and motorcycles whizzed by on the street beyond a sidewalk bordered with brown grass. Cold drizzle pinged against the plate glass.
Was there anything Harper hated more than the weeks between glorious fall color and majestic winter in southwestern Colorado? A thankfully brief period when grass went dormant and skies were cloudy, more often with the threat of freezing rain than snow. She couldn’t think of a thing. Well, except maybe her son’s other grandma. But she stifled the thought as soon as it sprang free in her head.
Squatting next to the tiny tot, she cinched her arms around his middle. “It’s not time yet. But look at that sky.” She pointed over his shoulder to the low clouds scuttling across the horizon. “Those clouds have snow in them.”
Craning his neck, he scowled at the low scuttling clouds. He ticked his head to the side and pursed his lips. “How can you tell?”
She dropped a knee to the ground and drew him closer. “Because your mama is a meteorologist. I know things about clouds and weather.” She’d started her degree work in science at Ft. Lewis, but after she’d gotten pregnant, she’d transferred to Oregon State. Once she’d completed her degree in Atmospheric Science, she’d accepted a job in Portland.
For now, she was on a leave of absence, setting her mom’s affairs in order. The plan was to escape back to Oregon without running into her ex…whatever.
“I want to make a snowman,” Kai demanded, humming a tune under his breath.
She recognized the popular song from Frozen, having heard it on repeat for most of the lengthy car trip back to her hometown.
Ruthlessly, she squashed a groan, instead pointing to the large flakes dancing on invisible wind currents. “You will, baby boy. I predict there will be enough snow around noon for us to build a Sasquatch-sized snowman.”
The excitement blazing across her son’s face warmed Harper to her toes. That smile was the high point of every day. The number one reason she got out of bed. Kai’s infancy had been rockier than the San Juan Mountains surrounding Durango. Colic had been a constant worry in those early months. Daily stress compounded by her status as a single mom struggling to maintain a grade point average decent enough to hold on to a hard-won scholarship.
“Let’s go, kiddo. We’ll need to talk to a real, live person to pick up our mail.”
She ruffled his hair then pushed to her feet. The rubber soles of her boots squelched hollowly as she crossed the lobby. Fingers curled around the door handle, she glanced behind to be sure Kai followed. “Come on, buddy.”
She stumbled backward as the door swung outward with sudden force. Bumping into her son, her heel crashed down on his foot. He wobbled, but didn’t fall, like one of the round-bottomed dolls she’d played with as a kid. Tears filled his wide eyes; he started with a moan that quickly escalated to a sharp, keening sob.
“Baby, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” She tucked his face against her shoulder, and stood, his small body cradled in her arms.
“Hurts!” came the breathless cry. “Now I won’t be able to build a snowman.”
“Sure you will. I’ll help.” Rubbing her hands on his back, her vision shimmered as his pain pierc
ed her heart. It had been an endless, rough week for them both.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
The familiar dulcet voice swept over Harper, carrying memories like an avalanche. Dinners at the big farmhouse table. The hours spent sitting on the wide wooden swing hanging from the ancient white oak tree in the backyard. Dark springy hair flopping over her college boyfriend’s brow. Tender kisses, needy touches. Passion and terror.
“Mrs. Morningstar,” Harper said as she turned to greet the woman who’d changed the path of her life.
“Harper Lee, is that you?” Evelyn Morningstar’s voice sharpened and she glanced nervously behind her.
Harper’s gaze flicked after Eveyln’s, landing on the tall, smiling man standing in the doorway behind her. Her hand stilled on Kai’s back, and she protectively palmed his head, keeping his face against her neck.
“Scout?”
Her heart soared, then belly flopped as the beloved nickname sped over her consciousness.
Braden Morningstar stared at her like she was a ghost from Christmas past, his dark brown eyes taking her in, a smile warming his face. The familiar dimples on his cheeks winked and mocked her. So much like…
She gave herself a mental shake and pasted her phony weathercaster smile in place. “Imagine running into you here.”
She’d seen him almost every night in her dreams forever. He was better in the flesh. Broad shoulders, long legs. The hem of his canvas jacket reached his hips, the bulky fabric accentuating his narrow waist. She remembered a time when they’d fit together like tongue and groove flooring. Tight and secure. But that fit had been broken irrevocably by his mother.
Any chance of repairing the breach between them had lessened over time. He was a hotshot athlete. Plus, there were weekly stories about him in either the entertainment or sporting news. Braden Morningstar, outstanding centerfielder, cover-model sexy. Man-whore, according to the tabloids. There was a reason they called him Morning After Morningstar.
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