A Snowy Little Christmas

by Fern Michaels

  Layla stared down at her hands in her lap. She twisted her fingers together, remembering the shame she’d felt when his friends started making fun of her hand-me-down clothes. Her shoes with the broken heel she’d glued back together that never stayed stuck. Her sweater with the hole in the sleeve that kept unraveling. Her thrift-store backpack with someone else’s last name scribbled out in Sharpie pen. Keith grabbed her backpack and tossed it in the garbage can. They jeered and said it was a piece of trash. Then they said she was trailer trash, and she belonged in the garbage, too.

  The memory of her intense shame welled up inside her. And the whole time his friends were bothering her, Sebastian just stood there glowering at the ground. His hands had been balled into fists, and she’d never seen him so angry. It was like his body was there, but his mind was far away. He never said a thing to defend her. Then one of the guys dragged the trash can over to her and acted like he was going to toss her in, too. That’s when Sebastian snapped out of his daze. He started yelling at the kid. But by then, her friend Jordan saw what was happening. He came running up to defend her.

  Jordan started punching Sebastian and his friends, and soon a full-fledged fight had broken out in front of the school. Kids started gathering around making bets and cheering. At one point, Sebastian shoved Jordan off him and Jordan fell against a broken chain-link fence. A piece of jagged wire gouged Jordan in the face, and he still had a visible scar from it.

  Layla just remembered standing there in horror as one of her only friends bled on the pavement. By then, the principal came out to break things up, and he hauled the boys off to his office. When she finally pulled her backpack out of the garbage, she’d been so embarrassed with all those kids standing around watching her. She’d never forget that silent bus ride home. How she’d clutched her filthy backpack to her chest like a security blanket, crushed beneath everyone’s stares and whispers about her being that “trash girl.”

  Days later in the hall, Sebastian had tried to approach her, but she never spoke to him again. If she saw him walking toward her, she turned and went the other way. Once, she found a note in her locker, a hastily scribbled apology from him, but she never acknowledged it.

  “I’m so sorry for how things escalated that day.” His voice was thick with remorse. “It’s bothered me for longer than you know.”

  She glanced up at him, and for the first time she felt nothing but complete forgiveness and understanding. He’d been a troubled person back then, just like her. She reached out and placed her hand lightly on his. “You don’t have to apologize to me anymore. I understand.”

  “About last Saturday. If I said or did something to bring those bad memories back, I swear I never meant to.”

  “It wasn’t anything you did,” she assured him. “Keith stopped me in the bar and made a comment that wasn’t very kind, that’s all.”

  He gripped her hand. “What did he say to you?”

  Layla shrugged. “He just alluded to the fact that I didn’t belong there.”

  Sebastian’s expression darkened like a storm cloud covering the moon. His jaw was granite-hard, and he looked like he was about to breathe fire. “I’m going to strangle that smug assho—”

  “You can’t,” Layla interrupted with a laugh.

  “Sure, I can,” he said with a scowl. “Knowing Keith, I’ll probably have to get in line. I can’t be the only person who wants to take him out.”

  “That may be true, but you’re a doctor. Didn’t you have to swear an oath to do no harm, or something?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “The Veterinarian’s Oath is for animals.”

  “Well, there you go. Keith’s a total pig, so it has to apply.”

  Sebastian’s mouth curved into a reluctant smile.

  Like morning mist in sunlight, the past seemed to fade away, and all that mattered was them sharing this moment, together. Layla’s stomach growled, and she laughed. “I’m starving. What time is it?”

  He checked his phone. “Past dinnertime. I’ll go see if there’s anything in the kitchen. Don’t get your hopes up. I think our office manager emptied it before she went home for the holiday.”

  A few minutes later, Sebastian came back with two coffee mugs, a carton of orange juice, and a bottle of champagne. “Here are our choices. We can have dog treats from the jar on the reception desk, or we can use this champagne someone gave me for Christmas to make rustic mimosas.”

  “Rustic?”

  He held up the two coffee mugs. “We don’t have proper champagne flutes in the office.”

  “Ah.” She pretended to consider the options. “What flavor are the dog treats?”

  “Nope flavored. Trust me.”

  “All right, fine. Let’s be festive and go for the rustic mimosas.”

  He sat beside her and popped open the champagne.

  She splashed orange juice into the mugs and held them out, giggling when he hastily poured the champagne and it spilled over the edges.

  “A toast.” Sebastian lifted his mug. It was hot pink with glittery paw prints. “To healthy cats.”

  “And to us,” she said shyly, holding up her zebra-striped mug. She felt as if she were standing on the precipice of something big. The old Layla might’ve retreated, taken a step back to play it safe. But she didn’t want to be that person anymore. Not with him. “To letting go of the past,” she added.

  “To us,” he said huskily. “And to new beginnings.”

  She clunked her mug against his and took a sip. In spite of the unconventional delivery, the mimosa was one of the best she’d ever tasted. Maybe it was the Veuve Clicquot champagne. Or the fancy organic orange juice he’d swiped from the office fridge. She peeked at Sebastian from beneath her lashes. Or maybe it was just because of him.

  Very slowly, he bent his head and took her mouth in a soft, searching kiss. Layla felt her limbs go weak, and her eyelids fluttered shut until all she could do was revel in the firm pressure and the slow, building heat. There was nothing “barely there” about this kiss. This one counted.

  When he finally pulled away, Layla took a shaky breath, her insides curling with pleasure and the desire for more. A whole lot more.

  His gaze lingered on her mouth, then slowly lifted to meet her eyes. “Magic mistletoe.”

  “What?” she breathed.

  He pointed above them.

  She tipped her head back and saw a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. “Juliette Holloway’s specialty,” she said softly.

  “Yes. I’m not sure who hung it here, but it’s all over the island. It seems like every time I walk into a place, someone shouts out the warning.”

  Layla smiled and repeated what she’d heard people say all season long. “If you linger beneath what hangs above, you’ll soon be falling . . .” She trailed off and glanced shyly at Sebastian. She suddenly felt happy and giddy and hopeful. Was she falling in love? This had to be what it felt like. A joyful voice inside her sang out with a resounding, Yes!

  “Do you know, I don’t believe I ever stood a chance,” he said quietly. “I think I loved you back when I was too young to know how to show it. And then when I saw you again for the first time in years, I realized my feelings for you hadn’t changed.”

  Layla felt as if she were floating near the ceiling. He loved her. “I don’t know if I believe in any of that Holloway magic.”

  All at once, he looked vulnerable and a little bit nervous.

  She placed her hand on his chest and leaned closer, feeling the steady thump of his heart. “But I do know I believe in you.”

  Relief then joy flashed across his face. He took his mimosa with hers and set them on the end table. “Layla.” He said her name like it was a prayer as he gathered her into his arms. “I’m afraid I love you. Can you handle it?”

  Happiness unfurled inside her, and she slid her hands up his chest, winding them around his neck. “Only if you can handle me loving you back. I might make a muddle of things, because I’ve never done it be
fore.”

  “We’ll figure it out together then,” he whispered, lowering his head to kiss her again.

  It started out softly at first. Just the barest pressure of his lips against hers, a tentative, unspoken question that Layla very much wanted to answer. She tilted her head and parted her lips, intoxicated by the sweet, heady taste of him, bright and tart from champagne, hot and decadent like her deepest fantasies. He slid one arm around the small of her back, the other hand sliding up under her hair to cradle the back of her head as he deepened the kiss.

  She could practically feel the tension straining in his powerful muscles, like a low-level hum of electricity he was struggling to hold back. She’d seen him work with delicate, fragile creatures, and she knew how careful he could be, but she didn’t want that. She wanted him to lose control, because with every passing second, she was losing control, too, and it didn’t feel like falling at all.

  It felt like flying.

  It was exhilarating, and she wanted more of it. She tightened her arms around him and pressed closer, reveling in the feel of his hard body, the rasp of light stubble on his jaw, the woodsy, evergreen scent of him surrounding her until she could no longer think. On and on they kissed as the storm raged outside, but inside, neither of them noticed. They were swept up in a storm of their own making, and they wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

  Chapter Nine

  The fairy lights strung throughout Haven restaurant on the waterfront gave the entire establishment a sparkling, otherworldly glow. Gold and silver balloons with shiny ribbons hung from the ceiling, and round tables with crisp black tablecloths surrounded the large dance floor. Three-tiered platters of cupcakes and chocolate truffles were centered on each table, along with party hats, noisemakers, and scattered confetti. Layla couldn’t have imagined a better venue for a New Year’s Eve party.

  “There you are,” Kat said over a mouthful of cupcake. “It’s almost midnight, and I’ve barely had a chance to talk to you. I swear, every time I’ve seen you tonight, you and Sebastian have been wrapped around each other.” She made air quotes. “Dancing.”

  “What?” Layla said innocently. “We have been dancing.”

  Kat rolled her eyes and licked frosting off her finger. “If, by that, you mean barely swaying, mostly smooching, and whispering sweet nothings to each other? Then, yeah. You guys are excellent dancers. Practically professionals.”

  Layla blushed, but laughter bubbled up in her chest. “I’ve been kind of distracted.”

  The past week had been a whirlwind of exciting, new experiences. After the storm died down early on Christmas morning, Sebastian had driven Layla home where they’d made breakfast together. Then they’d spent the day visiting Layla’s mom, who was ecstatic that her daughter had finally gone and found herself a “big strong man.” Later, they’d visited his sister’s family. Charlie had been thrilled to see Layla, and happy to see she was no longer doing penance at the North Pole for her naughty boots. In the week following the snowstorm, Layla and Sebastian had spent every moment they could together, and for the first time ever, Layla truly felt her life was complete. She used to think she had everything she needed, but now she realized she’d been missing the most important thing of all: love.

  “I get it,” Kat said with a happy sigh. “I mean, look at them. Could our guys be any hotter?”

  Sebastian and Kat’s husband, Jordan, stood on the other side of the room, deep in conversation. Both of them were striking in their tuxedos and black ties, but even though they were dressed to the nines, there was a bit of a wild aura about them that wasn’t conventional. Kat’s husband had unruly hair and odd golden eyes that made him look a bit like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And Sebastian . . . well. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and wickedly handsome, and when he gave her that secret smile—like the one he was giving her now—it made her insides swirl with delicious anticipation. He was like her own personal hurricane, sweeping her up and spinning her into a whirlwind of desire until she felt like she was losing control. And the best part? She didn’t even care. She liked it.

  Sebastian continued speaking to Jordan, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. His glossy dark hair looked a little windblown, and Layla knew it was because she’d been running her hands through it all night. She grinned when Jordan said something and slapped Sebastian on the back. Clearly, Jordan held no grudge against him, even though Jordan was the kid who’d flown to her rescue all those years ago during that fight. Apparently, the past really was water under the bridge, and Layla was glad of it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ’s voice boomed through the microphone. “It’s almost time for the countdown!”

  Excited cheers and happy laughter swelled through the crowd as people scattered to find their friends and loved ones.

  Sebastian strode across the room toward Layla, not stopping until he’d wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Hello, beautiful,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.

  She shivered with pleasure and brushed her lips against his.

  “Smile for the camera,” someone sang out.

  They turned and posed for the photographer, who snapped their picture and quickly moved on to the next group of revelers.

  “That photo’s going into one of my empty frames,” Layla announced. “It’s time I started filling those up with good memories.”

  Sebastian gave her a tight squeeze. “I wholeheartedly agree.”

  A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne, and Sebastian took two glasses, handed one to Layla, then led her outside onto the patio overlooking the marina. Brightly lit sailboats and yachts dotted the harbor like sparkling jewels in the darkness.

  An unexpected breeze swirled in off the ocean, surrounding them both and ruffling their hair, kissing their eyelashes and brushing over their skin. Layla shivered, once again filled with that strange sensation that change was in the air. Only this time, she was going to embrace it with open arms because it just felt right.

  Sebastian drew her in for a hug, resting his forehead against hers. “It’s almost a new year.”

  She closed her eyes and made a wish. “I hope it’s a good one.”

  “It’s going to be amazing,” he said with conviction.

  The crowd inside began to chant. “Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “Six! Five! Four!”

  “I just do. Trust me.”

  “Three! Two! One!”

  “Okay.” She looped her arms around his neck.

  “Happy New Year!” the crowd roared. Brilliant fireworks lit up the sky above the water.

  Layla rose up on her toes to kiss him. He drew her tighter and deepened the kiss until she felt as if the whole world spun away and the only thing in the universe that existed was the two of them, together. It was the kind of kiss that made the fireworks pale in comparison. The kind of kiss that was far more intoxicating than all the glasses of champagne, and more heartfelt and hopeful than the lilting tune of “Auld Lang Syne” floating on the breeze around them.

  “See?” Sebastian whispered against her mouth. “It’s already perfect.”

  When he kissed her again, Layla knew from the top of her head to the tips of her sparkly stilettos that he was absolutely, gloriously, one-hundred-percent right. Here, in his arms, with the shiny new year ahead of them, nothing had ever felt better.

  Missing Christmas

  KATE CLAYBORN

  Dear Readers,

  Thank you for picking up a copy of A Snowy Little Christmas! Whether you are new to my books or not, I so hope you enjoy this story, which I absolutely loved writing.

  Missing Christmas features characters who appear briefly in my debut, Beginner’s Luck. In that book, the hero, Ben, must make a choice between his longtime business interests and his newfound love interest. His best friend, Jasper—the hero of Missing Christmas—tries (unsuccessfully) to sway him to the side of business. But of course, things aren’t always w
hat they seem, and Jasper’s reasons for being so laser-focused on business have more to do with love than we might think. Missing Christmas stands alone, but if you want to learn more about Jasper, Kristen, and their friendship with Ben, be sure to pick up a copy of Beginner’s Luck, available wherever eBooks are sold.

  Kate Clayborn

  Chapter One

  JASPER

  December 14

  Here’s the long and short of it: I kiss her because I miss her.

  I know how it sounds. If she’s close enough to kiss, she’s not far away enough to miss.

  But I’ve seen or talked to Kristen Fraser almost every day of the last six years, and I think, deep down, I have missed her for every single one of them.

  Only I’ve never—not until tonight—dared to kiss her. With Kristen, I’ve always, always followed the rules.

  It’s not how I would’ve pictured it, my first kiss with her. That’s probably because the only way I’ve ever allowed myself to picture it, in my weakest moments, is in scenarios that would never actually happen: Me and her, under a blanket of starlight, nothing fluorescent or LED or otherwise unnatural. The clothes between us soft and comfortable, easy to pull off—none of the tiny, tyrannical enforcers usually kept between us, belts and buttons and zippers. No phones ringing or computers pinging, no appointments or negotiations or closings.

  Nowhere to be but with each other.

  But maybe it’s right, that it’s this way. The end of an endless day in a small conference room, working on a recruit Kris has been pursuing for weeks, her first solo approach. The deadline firm, our last job before we close down the office tomorrow for the holidays. Three hours of calls, two in-person meetings with our client, four frantic hours of typing, each of us on our laptops staring at the same shared document, one hour of sipping coffee and staring anxiously between our phones, our computers, each other. The way our eyes locked when the call came in, the way unspoken words passed between us: this is it; good luck; whatever happens, we did our best; I’m proud of you; I’m glad we’re here together. The way she’d tapped her knuckles on the table quietly when Dr. Nhung said he’d read the contract, the way I’d punched a fist in the air when he’d said yes. The way we’d both stood from our chairs while we each tried to sound casual, expressing our pleasure, our promises to finalize details soon.