Christmas in July

by Debbie Mason

  “Flu, sprained ankle, was that today?” Grace lost track of which one of them made which excuse. Sophia opened her mouth to make hers, then stopped when something behind them caught her eye. “You girls can take the men in uniform. Me, I will take the one in the suit.”

  Ethan O’Connor, the sun glinting off his blond head, walked through the smiling crowd wearing a light-gray suit paired with a red tie. Shaking people’s hands, he stopped when he reached them and flashed a movie-star smile. With his chiseled jaw, his eyes hidden behind a pair of aviators, the man was totally swoon-worthy.

  “Ladies, you’re all looking as gorgeous as ever,” he said in an equally swoon-worthy voice. Because his eyes were hidden, it was hard to tell, but, Grace thought, although his comment was directed at all of them, his entire focus was on Skye, who ignored him.

  “So are you, Senator,” Sophia said in her singsong voice. The other women agreed.

  He laughed. “Hey, don’t jinx me. Lots can happen between now and November.” Skye snorted while keeping her gaze on the stage. “Miss Davis, I didn’t recognize you in your costume. What are you supposed to be… a cupcake?” His firm lips twitched as he fought back a grin.

  Skye rolled her eyes. “The Sugar Plum Cake Fairy, and if you really want to win the election”—she raised her wand—“I’ll turn you into a Democrat. Better yet, an Independent.”

  “Haven’t changed, have you, cupcake?”

  When Skye went to lift her wand again, Grace grabbed her hand and said, “Ethan, thanks so much for coming today. I know how busy you are.”

  He nudged Skye out of the way to kiss Grace’s cheek. “Wouldn’t miss it. Look forward to catching up with Jack. And you”—he crouched beside little Jack’s stroller—“I heard you gave everyone quite the scare. Glad you’re okay, buddy.” He rubbed little Jack’s head and stood up.

  A statuesque brunette wearing a conservative red sundress came toward them.

  Skye turned to face Grace, her eyes wide. “Do not let her see me,” she said in a panicked whisper.

  The woman touched Ethan’s arm and gave them a practiced smile. “We need to get you onstage.”

  “Right. See you ladies after the ceremony. Grace, you might want to take Ms. Davis’s wand from her.”

  The woman frowned, leaning past Ethan to get a look at Skye. “Kendall Davis, is that you?”

  “I’m going to kill him,” Skye muttered before taking a deep breath and plastering a smile on her face. “Claudia, as I live and breathe, what are you doing here?”

  Ethan, with a what-the-hell expression on his face, watched the two women air-kiss.

  The brunette patted Ethan’s arm. “What I do best, making sure our boy here wins the election. But a better question would be, Kendall, what are you doing here and dressed like that? Oh my God.” She tittered. “The girls back home are going to die when they see this. You have to let me take your picture.”

  Ethan, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Skye, took the other woman by the arm. “Claudia, you can catch up with… Kendall later.”

  “Yes, of course.” Claudia mimed clicking a camera and said, “Later.”

  “What’s she supposed to be?” they heard Claudia ask Ethan.

  “A cupcake, I think.”

  “She always was a fruitcake,” the other woman said, laughing as they walked toward the stage.

  “Who is that woman and why did she call you Kendall?” Sophia asked the questions they all wanted the answers to.

  Skye crossed her arms over her chest. “Claudia Stevens. Old money with deep connections to the Republican Party. If they’re behind Ethan, it means they’re looking at him going all the way to the top.”

  The speeches began, ending further conversation. Madison gave the opening address, then introduced Ethan. Grace thought he gave a great speech. Skye didn’t. Grace’s father spoke next. He looked the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. Her parents hadn’t been happy for years, and it was about time that one of them did something about it.

  When her dad presented Jack with his medal, Grace blinked back tears. Blinking didn’t help when Jack gave his short and poignant speech. He talked about what the country and the freedom they enjoyed as Americans meant to him and what he’d missed the most when he’d been a POW. At the end, he thanked his sister, Patrick, and Sawyer, and the people of Christmas for being there for his family when he couldn’t be.

  Grace frowned when he unpinned the Purple Heart from his chest and held it up. “It means a lot to me that you think I deserve this medal, but there’s someone here who I think deserves it more. It’s not easy being the one who’s left behind, the one who has to keep on keeping on, to stay strong and brave. My wife did that and more.” Grace covered her mouth to hold back a sob, tears welling in her eyes. “As much as you call me a hero, she’s mine. Grace, will you come up here, please?”

  Grace turned when someone touched her arm. It was her mother. “Go to your husband. I’ll look after my grandson.”

  She was speechless. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to feel.

  “Your husband’s right. You deserve that medal,” her mother said, adjusting the neckline of Grace’s sundress.

  “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.” It did. More than her mother probably knew. She hesitated, then kissed her mother’s cheek before making her way through the cheering crowd. Jack held out his hand, helping her onto the stage. “It’s true, you know,” he said as he carefully pinned the medal to the front of her dress. “You are my hero. I love you, Grace Flaherty.”

  Fingering the medal, she sniffed back her tears. “And I love you, Jack Flaherty.” She rose up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’ve always been my hero, and you always will be.”

  He gave her a breath-stealing smile then lowered his head and kissed her to the delight of their audience. “We’ll finish this later in private,” he murmured when Madison tapped them on their shoulders.

  “Sorry to break it up, guys, but we have one more item on the agenda,” Madison laughingly said as she drew them with her to the podium. “We have a little something for the two of you.”

  Sawyer and Jill walked toward the stage carrying a cake between them. “Sawyer, slow down. I’m going to drop it,” Jill huffed, and the two of them started arguing as they awkwardly made their way up the steps. Since little Jack’s accident, Jill and Sawyer had actually been getting along, to the point Grace had begun to think something was going on between the two of them. Now it looked like they were back to normal.

  Grace gaped at the lopsided black cake they set down on a small table. There was a purple fondant house, at least she thought it was supposed to be a house, surrounded by store-bought candy roses.

  Her mother handed little Jack to Grace. “That was a lovely speech, Jackson,” she said, then went to stand beside Grace’s stunned father. Skye crowded onto the stage along with all their friends. “So, what do you think?” Skye asked, gesturing to the cake. “Everyone helped out.”

  Grace looked at the faces of her friends and smiled. “It’s beautiful. You guys did an amazing job.”

  Jack, who stood behind her with his arms around both her and little Jack, whispered in her ear, “I’m impressed, princess. You actually sound like you mean it.”

  “I do,” she whispered back.

  “Wonder what the bakery looks like.”

  “That’s not funny,” she murmured, nudging him with her elbow.

  Skye chewed her nail, eyeing the cake. “We had a little trouble getting the icing the right color and making the roses, but I think it works.” She shrugged, then smiled. “But don’t worry, even if it doesn’t look like a sugar plum cake, the Sugar Plum Cake Fairy is on the job. Make a wish.”

  Grace tipped her head back. “What do you want to wish for?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got everything I want right here,” he said, tightening his arms around them.

  “Me, too.”

  Skye rolled her ey
es. “I’ll make the wish for you. Okay, it’s done. Open the sugar plum.”

  When Jack and Grace looked at her blankly, she sighed. “Under the house.”

  Jack lowered his arms, nudged Grace out of the way, and lifted the house to reveal a chocolate sugar plum twice its normal side. He opened it and took out a key and a scroll tied with a yellow ribbon. “What’s this?” he asked, holding up the key.

  “Just unroll the scroll, flyboy,” Sawyer said with a grin. Jack’s crew laughed, and Holden said, “Yeah, flyboy, open the deed. What?” he said when everyone shushed him.

  Jack frowned and unraveled the scroll. He scanned the paper and lifted a disbelieving gaze to Grace. “It’s the deed to the house on Sugar Plum Lane.” He showed her the paper.

  “How? I don’t understand,” Grace said, looking at the smiling faces of their friends and family.

  Everyone started to talk at once. Ethan whistled loudly. “Quiet.”

  “Thanks, Ethan,” Madison said. “All your friends”—she shot a look at Skye, who shuffled closer to Grace—“well, most of us, pitched in to buy the house. You can make monthly payments just like you would to the bank. And with the way the bakery’s going, you’ll pay us back in no time.”

  “But I thought that couple bought the house,” Jack said.

  “They did. Maria convinced them to sell it back to us.”

  Maria, who’d joined Jack’s crew onstage, smiled and said, “It’s the least I could do.”

  The smiling faces blurred in front of Grace’s misty vision, and Jack slid his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you, all of you. We’re deeply touched, but it’s—”

  “You can’t refuse, Jack. It’s a done deal,” Madison said firmly. “And don’t worry, we’re charging you the same interest the bank would have.”

  Jack looked down at Grace and grinned. “Sounds like we have a house, princess.”

  All Grace could do was nod as the tears slid down her cheeks. “I love you, all of you,” she managed to choke out.

  “It’s Santa,” Gage’s daughter Lily cried, pointing to a wagon rolling down Main Street.

  “Come on, your carriage awaits. Let’s go check out your new home.” Madison ushered them off the stage. People hugged and congratulated them as they made their way to the wagon. A big sign announcing Christmas in July, from the twenty-fourth to the thirtieth, was attached to the back rails.

  Jack lifted Annie and Lily into the wagon then helped Grace up, handing her little Jack.

  Her friends looked at the wagon, and Sophia said, “We will meet you at the house.”

  Pretty much everyone said the same thing. Skye was walking toward them when Ethan climbed in. She turned and headed off after Sophia and the girls. Sawyer jumped on and went to offer Jill a hand. She rolled her eyes and heaved herself onto a bale of hay.

  “Okay, giddyup, Santa,” Madison said, sliding in beside her husband.

  “You owe me big-time for this, honey,” Gage muttered.

  “Hey, it’s great advertising for Christmas in July. We had to find some way to take advantage of all the media here to cover the ceremony.”

  Sitting behind them, Grace looked at Jack and laughed. “I can’t believe it. We own the house on Sugar Plum Lane.”

  Ethan smiled. “I guess it’s safe to say you guys are happy about the house. Have you decided what you’re going to do next, Jack?” Jack told him about the job with search and rescue, and before long, the four men were reminiscing about old times. Lily and Annie were amusing little Jack, and Grace, Jill, and Madison were talking about the plans for Christmas in July when Nell, Mrs. Tate, and Mrs. Wright flagged them down.

  “Keep going,” Madison told her husband.

  “Honey, it’s hot out. I can’t let them walk.”

  “I’m warning you, if she says one thing about that book, I can’t be held accountable for my actions,” Madison said, as Jack, Sawyer, and Ethan went to help the older women into the wagon.

  Nell must’ve heard Madison because she grinned when Lily said, “Auntie Nell, am I going to be in your book?”

  “Sure you are, sweetpea.”

  Grace pursed her lips to keep from laughing. Jack leaned into her. “What book are they talking about?”

  “The one she’s writing about Madison and Gage.”

  “It sounded like it would make a pretty good story.”

  “Aunt Nell, I don’t want to be in the book.”

  “Don’t worry, Annie, if I have anything to say about it, there won’t be a book,” Madison said, giving Nell her don’t-mess-with-me face.

  “Hate to disappoint you, girlie. Stella’s granddaughter is working with me. She’s a real author, you know, and her publisher is interested in taking a look.”

  Madison appeared ready to explode. Grace reached back to pat her arm. “Don’t worry about it. Even if she sells the book, no one will know it’s about you and Gage,” Grace said, trying to make her friend feel better.

  “Me in book,” little Jack said.

  Mrs. Tate smiled. “You’re in the next one.”

  “What?” Grace said, her voice raising an octave.

  Nell grinned. “Yep, I’m writing yours and Jack’s story next. Even got the title—Christmas in July.”

  Madison patted her arm. “Don’t worry about it, no one will know it’s about you and Jack.”

  Grace’s reply flew out of her head as they turned onto Sugar Plum Lane. “Oh, Jack,” she said instead, taking his hand. People lined the street waving American flags, and in the middle of a wildflower garden in full bloom sat their house wrapped in a yellow ribbon. As Grace took it all in, she thought back to that day in May when she’d given up on her husband ever coming home, on ever having a home like the one that was now their own. Maybe, she thought, there was something magical about her sugar plum cake after all.

  About the Author

  My dream of becoming a published author took a backseat to raising my three children and running several businesses with my husband. In 2007, we sold the businesses and our youngest graduated from high school, giving me time to focus on my writing.

  Fortunately, dreams don’t have an expiration date, and two romance groups, six manuscripts, and an agent later, my debut book, Lord of the Isles, written under the name Debbie Mazzuca, was published in 2010.

  A new chapter has begun with this contemporary romance series set in the fun-filled, fictional town of Christmas, Colorado. My characters make me laugh and cry, and, like me, they get their happy-ever-after. After thirty-two years of marriage, my husband is still the man of my dreams. The arrival of our first grandbaby has made our lives complete. But I wouldn’t say no to a dozen more—babies or books.

  You can learn more at:

  AuthorDebbieMason.com

  Twitter @AuthorDebMason

  Facebook.com

  ALSO BY DEBBIE MASON

  The Trouble with Christmas

  Acclaim for

  The Trouble with Christmas

  “4 Stars! This is a wonderful story to read this holiday season, and the romance is timeless. This is one of those novels readers will enjoy each and every page of and tell friends about.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “A fun and festive tale, flush with small-town warmth and tongue-in-cheek charm. The main characters are well worth rooting for, their conflicts solid and riveting… The tone is sweet, yet sexually charged—that kiss in the closet could power Rudolph’s nose for an entire year.”

  —USA Today’s Happy Ever After blog

  “Mason will please fans of zippy small-town stories.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “The first in a new series called Christmas, Colorado, and already I want to pack my bags and move there… Humor, snowflakes, a little drama, and romance made this a sweet afternoon read by the fire.”

  —CaffeinatedBookReviewer.com

  “A humorous, heartwarming tale that tugged at my heartstrings while tickling my funny bone.”

  —TheR
omanceDish.com

  Skylar Davis has a secret she must protect at all costs. No such luck, due to all the local gossips in little Christmas, Colorado…

  Please turn this page for a

  preview of

  It Happened at Christmas.

  Chapter One

  Skylar Davis stood in the middle of Main Street wearing a sparkly purple dress with a wand in her hand and a cupcake tiara on her head, wondering where the magic had gone. For the last ten years she’d flitted through life like a butterfly wearing rose-colored glasses.

  Seven months ago she’d had those glasses ripped right off her face, and her life had become stomach-churningly horrible. Six weeks ago, it had gone from horrible to downright scary. Which was why she was hiding out in the small town of Christmas, Colorado. Well, that and she only had a couple hundred pennies to her name.

  Another reason for choosing Christmas, she had free room and board courtesy of her best friend, Madison McBride—although she had a feeling that wasn’t going to last much longer. The fact her best friend was married to a big, hot sheriff didn’t hurt, either. At least Skye had protection if Scary Guy discovered where she was. But right now, the person she needed to avoid was her best friend.

  Skye cast a nervous glance behind her, releasing a relieved breath when she didn’t spot a familiar face among the crowd. In the middle of a wave of people heading down Main Street, she bent her knees and bowed her head in an effort to make herself less visible. Granted, it was a little hard to be inconspicuous wearing a Sugar Plum Cake Fairy costume. And somehow she’d wound up in the middle of a group of tourists from Japan. Up ahead, she spotted a couple of men taller than she was and started toward them.

  One of the tourists snagged her arm. “Picture.” He smiled, holding up his camera.

  Two more men held up their cameras. “You. Picture.”

  “At the park. Okay?” Skye smiled, pointing to where the Fourth of July festivities were being held. They’d draw less attention there, and if she spotted Madison, Skye could duck behind a tree. She went to walk away and caught a glimpse of a tall, broad-shouldered man in a light-gray suit, the sun glinting off his tawny blond hair as he held court on the sidewalk with a statuesque brunette at his side.