A Merrily Matched Christmas

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by Virginia Nelson




  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  All I Want For Christmas is My Book Boyfriend

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  A Merrily Matched Christmas

  Ashelyn Drake

  Virginia Nelson

  River Ford

  Beth Fred

  Cate Grimm

  Lily Vega

  A Merrily Matched Christmas

  Copyright © 2017

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual places or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, or recorded without written permission from the author.

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks mentioned in this book. Trademarks are not sponsored or endorsed by the trademark owners.

  Contents

  Lovers of Christmas Past

  1. Holly

  2. Nick

  3. Holly

  4. Nick

  5. Holly

  6. Nick

  7. Holly

  About the Author

  A Merry Matchmaker Mess

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  A Christmas Prayer

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Easy to Make Homemade Butter

  About the Author

  All I Want For Christmas is My Book Boyfriend

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  A Cowboy for Christmas

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Merry Mismatch

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  About the Author

  Lovers of Christmas Past

  by USA Today bestselling author Ashelyn Drake

  Holly Michaels loves managing the children’s community center in Sapphire Springs, but she longs to have children of her own. And her decision to leave the love of her life after he declared he didn’t want kids still haunts her.

  Nick Masters never got over Holly leaving him at the altar five years ago. Now, he’s volunteered to play the part of Santa Claus at the children’s center’s Christmas celebration to get close to Holly again.

  Nick is all smiles for the little ones, but will his attitude change when it’s time to hang up his red suit for the season?

  Holly

  Thinking I see the man I was supposed to marry five years ago is nothing out of the ordinary for me. I see Nick’s face in just about every twenty-something man I meet. And every time, it sends my heart aflutter. Nick was perfect for me in every way but one. He didn’t want children. I tried to tell myself I could get past that. At twenty-three, I wasn’t ready for children yet anyway, but as I stood in my wedding gown, facing the doors to the chapel, I couldn’t bring myself to envision a future without kids of my own. So I turned around, wrote Nick a Dear John letter, and walked out on the love of my life.

  The man I’ve been staring at—one of the fathers, who only slightly resembles Nick—shoves his hands in his pockets and turns away.

  “Holly?” a small voice says as a tiny hand tugs on my dress.

  I glance down at Erica, the cutest six-year-old I’ve ever laid eyes on and my favorite—though I’d never admit that aloud—child at the children’s community center I run in Sapphire Springs. I bend down so I’m eye level with her. “What is it, sweetie?”

  “Is Santa coming this year?” Erica’s eyes are full of hope, probably because her parents can’t afford to buy her Christmas presents. “I’ve been extra good this year.”

  I brush her strawberry-blonde locks behind her left ear. “Yes, Erica. Santa will be here, and I’m sure he’ll have something extra special for you in his bag of presents.”

  Her face lights up, and she throws her arms around me.

  Her mother stands behind her with tears in her eyes, so I reach my hand out to squeeze hers. “Thank you,” she mouths.

  The Sapphire Springs Children’s Community Center has become my world. I love each and every one of these children and their parents, who try so hard to provide with the little they have. I smile at Erica’s mom before releasing her hand.

  “Erica, why don’t you go see April? She’s setting up the table to make gingerbread houses,” I say once Erica finally lets go of my neck.

  “Can we eat the candy, too?” Erica asks.

  “Sure, but save some for the houses, okay?” I wink at her before she runs off to find April, my best friend and cofounder of the children’s community center. She’s like the sister I never had. We met in college, and I was able to convince her to move home to Sapphire Springs with me to open this place. She’s the only person I know who loves children as much as I do.

  “Holly?” Lemar calls from his office situated along the back wall next to my corner office. He waves me over, phone in hand.

  “Excuse me,” I say to Erica’s mother, who is still looking at me like I’m Mrs. Claus.

  She nods and walks over to meet Erica at the gingerbread craft table.

  I take a few long, steady strides to Lemar’s office, but the look of panic on his face isn’t doing anything to reassure me that the call isn’t going to be catastrophic.

  He places his hand over the receiver and says,
“Our Santa Claus canceled. He has the flu.”

  My stomach sinks. The Christmas party is one day away. How am I supposed to find a new Santa before then? My mind goes into hyper drive. “Okay, tell him to get well soon. Then start calling around for anyone willing to help us out.” I look him up and down. “Otherwise, you’re going to have to get in that Santa suit yourself.”

  Lemar’s eyes widen in horror. “These kids know me. I’d never pull it off. Besides”—he lowers his voice and looks out at the room full of kids—“I’m pretty sure most of these kids are operating under the assumption that Santa Claus is Caucasian, not African American.”

  “Start making calls then,” I say, rushing off to my office. My heels click against the floor, a steady tick tock that’s reminding me of how little time I have until Christmas Eve. I head to my desk and grab the phone, dialing the local costume shop. Worse case scenario, the kids will have a visit from Mrs. Claus. How I’ll disguise myself, I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll tell them I’m really Mrs. Claus’s twin sister and swear them to secrecy.

  “Costumes for All Occasions,” the woman answers.

  “Tell me you have a Mrs. Claus costume for rent,” I blurt out.

  “One left in stock. We’re all out of Santa suits, though.”

  “No problem. I have a Santa suit. Put the Mrs. Claus costume on hold for Holly Michaels, please. I’ll be right over to pick it up.”

  “If you want me to place it on hold, I’ll need your credit card information for the deposit,” the woman says.

  I reach for my purse on my desk and remove my wallet. After rattling off my credit card information, I hang up and grab my coat.

  “Going somewhere?” April asks me as I pass by the craft table.

  “Trying to avert a crisis. Can you hold down the fort for about twenty minutes?”

  She nods. “Just prepare yourself for the noise volume to be through the roof when you return. The kids are eating more candy than they’re decorating the houses with.”

  Erica pops a gumdrop into her mouth and smiles at me. Her teeth are blue and red from icing.

  “Okay, boys and girls, eating time is over,” I say. “We want to make sure these gingerbread houses are all decorated. In fact, the best decorated house is going to get a prize.”

  “What kind of prize?” Jake, a seven-year-old Erica has a crush on, asks.

  “If you want to find out, you better get decorating,” I tell him.

  The kids all start grabbing for candy, but now they’re using it on their houses.

  “Thanks,” April says. “You’re so good with them.”

  “Holly,” Lemar calls from his office doorway.

  What now? “I’m never going to get out of here,” I say with a sigh as I turn back to him. But before I can respond, I spot a man walking in the front door. At first, I assume my mind is playing tricks on me. No way is Nick Masters really here. He has no reason to be.

  But his eyes lock on me, and his voice is undeniable. “Holly Michaels, you’re as beautiful as ever.”

  My knees get weak, and April grabs for me before I fall. “Is that...?”

  Nick. My Nick.

  Nick

  I’d like to say that after five years, I have come to terms with Holly leaving me at the altar. But I can’t. I never blamed her. She had every right to think about her future and what she wanted out of life. When I found out she opened a children’s center, I couldn’t have been less surprised. She’s the motherly type. What did surprise me was finding out she’s not married with kids of her own. As soon as I read the article about her online, I hopped on a train and came right here. I had to see her for myself.

  I rush over to her, noticing April, Holly’s best friend for as long as I’ve known her, holding her up. Have I startled Holly that much by coming here, or is she sick? I reach for her elbow. “Are you okay?”

  Her eyes scan my face as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing. “Nick?”

  I smile. “You remembered,” I joke, taking in how much she doesn’t seem to have changed. Her dark hair is still long, and her blue eyes still remind me of sapphires.

  “Why...? How...? What are you doing here?”

  “Can we talk?”

  A little girl with strawberry-blonde curls tugs on Holly’s dress. “Your cheeks are red. Is he your boyfriend?” she asks. “Do you love him?”

  I stifle a laugh. The little girl isn’t wrong about the color of Holly’s cheeks.

  “Erica,” Holly says, “why don’t you finish your gingerbread house, okay? I need to talk to this man in private.” Holly’s gaze lowers to my hand, which is still on her elbow. I remove it and stand up straight. “My office is right over there.” She points to the back corner.

  April eyes me suspiciously and then turns to Holly. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Holly shakes her head. “No, but I need Lemar to go to the costume shop for me. They already have my credit card info, and the costume is being held under my name.”

  “I’m on it,” a tall man with dark skin—I’m guessing Lemar—says from behind her, making her jump.

  I resist the urge to reach for her again.

  Holly doesn’t even look at me before starting for her office. I follow, wondering if coming here was a bad idea. After she left me, I tried calling her several times, but she never answered my calls. Eventually, I stopped trying, assuming she was afraid she’d give in and come back to me if we talked things through. No doubt she would have been miserable compromising on the “no children” front. But after finding out she never had kids of her own, I had to see her. I had to know if the children’s center fulfilled that need in her life. But more so, I had to know if she’d be willing to give us another try.

  “Have a seat,” Holly says as we enter her office. She walks around the desk, and I can’t help wondering if it’s to put some distance between us.

  “Thanks.” I sit down in the faux leather chair.

  She doesn’t sit. Instead, she paces in front of the window on the back wall. “What brings you back to Sapphire Springs, Nick?”

  You, I want to say. “I had some time off for the holidays. My parents are still here, so I thought I’d come visit.”

  She’s facing the window, avoiding my gaze. Why is it so hard for her to look at me? I’m not the one who called things off. “But why are you here?” she asks.

  I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees. “Should I not have come?”

  She shrugs. “Depends, I guess.”

  “On what?”

  She finally turns around. “On how much you still hate me.” Her voice quivers with the threat of tears.

  I stand up and start for her, but she holds up her hand to stop me.

  “Don’t. Please.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she keeps them from spilling.

  “I could never hate you.” How could she even think that?

  “You have every right to. I left. I should have talked to you about it sooner.” She blinks rapidly and inhales a deep breath. “I could have handled it so much better, but I was a stupid twenty-three-year old at the time.”

  “No,” I say. “I was the stupid one. I didn’t think about the future, and I should have.” If I had, I would have known she couldn’t go through with marrying me. She would have resented me in the end, and we would have gotten divorced. Somehow, never having her as my wife is better than her being my ex-wife.

  “I’m still sorry,” she says.

  I know she is. “I am, too.”

  She shakes her head and swipes at a stray tear on her cheek. “So what are you doing here?”

  Telling her the truth seems like too much for her to handle at the moment. My parents do still live in town, so that wasn’t a lie, but I didn’t come back to Sapphire Springs for them. I came for Holly, and that’s too much pressure for her to deal with right now.

  “I couldn’t come to town without looking you up. I wanted to see how you’re doing.” I hold my hands out, gesturing to her office. �
��This place is incredible. I bet the kids adore you.”

  “It’s mutual,” she says.

  I nod, and then I motion to her left hand, which is hugging her midsection. “You’re not married. I was sure you would be.”

  She drops her arm to her side. “This place keeps me busy. I haven’t really had time to find anyone to settle down with.” She immediately looks away, her tell that she’s lying.

  “Do you have plans for Christmas?” I ask, figuring it’s a safer topic.

  “Our Christmas party is here tomorrow evening. I have to play Mrs. Claus because our Santa has the flu.”

  I’m not surprised her Christmas plans revolve around these kids.

  “Knock, knock,” Lemar says, rapping his knuckles on the partially closed door and peeking his head inside the office.

  “Come in,” Holly says, sounding a little too eager to talk to anyone who isn’t me.

  Lemar carries a black garment bag and places it on Holly’s desk. “I picked up a makeup kit, too, so we can make you look old and wrinkly.” He winks at her.

  “Thanks.” Holly looks around him, probably trying to make sure the kids are still occupied and no one can overhear the conversation. “Any luck tracking down a new Santa for us?”

 

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