A Merrily Matched Christmas

by Virginia Nelson

  “That and the value of roots. Now I just need to get her to agree to plant some with me.” Cody turned to his son and asked, “Ready to go?”

  Davie nodded. Cody took his son’s hand in his and headed out the door.

  “Good luck, son.” His parents’ voices followed them down the front steps to the graveled driveway.

  He buckled Davie in the truck then got in. He started the truck and pulled out of the drive onto the road. Cody was amazed he didn’t get a ticket as he pushed the speed limit on every street until he reached the white steepled church at the center of town.

  He squeezed into a parking spot a block away from the church then he got out of the truck and hauled Davie out after him. Holding his son’s hand, he broke into a walk-jog that had Davie trotting to keep up. But the pace didn’t seem to bother him. His son was as anxious to find Sarah as Cody was.

  The last notes of Joy to World were ringing out as they got to the church. Cody, grabbed the door with his free hand and opened it as people began to spill outside. He pulled Davie close and watched for one particular blonde head in the crowd.

  She bumped right into him as she stepped outside. He and Davie both reached forward to steady her. Cody smiled and said, “Sarah.”

  A startled “Oh,” squeaked out then she threw her arms around both him and his son. “I’m so glad you’re here. Both of you. Can we go somewhere else?” she asked. “I’d like to discuss some of those possibilities we talked about.”

  “I’d like to discuss those possibilities too. Starting with the possibility of you becoming Mrs. Cody Hayes.”

  “What?” Sarah squeaked again.

  “Will you marry me, help me learn to be a good father, and plant roots with me?”

  Tears welling in her eyes, Sarah shouted, “Yes, yes and yes!” Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips in front of half the population of Love, Texas. No mistletoe needed.

  Cody returned the kiss tenfold until he felt a tug on his jacket and pulled himself away from Sarah’s deliciously tempting mouth.

  “Why was our Sarah yelling at you? And why are you kissing her?” Davie asked.

  Heart still pounding, Cody smiled down at his son and said, “Our Sarah just agreed to marry me and become a Hayes, too.”

  “Awesome! Can we do the honeyed moon here?” Davie said.

  “Sure, we can. I think Love is the perfect place for a wedding. And a honeyed moon.” Sarah smiled her magical smile at the little boy who, Cody suspected, already owned pieces of her heart and added, “In fact, I think Love just might be the perfect place to put down roots.”

  And Cody heartily agreed.

  Epilogue

  Cody curled his body around Sarah’s as they snuggled down in front of the fireplace and watched his father and his son toast marshmallows together. His mother was bustling around in the kitchen pouring glasses of sparkling cider to toast with.

  “Hurry up, Mom. The countdown is starting soon,” Cody said.

  The television was tuned to a New Year’s Eve special and every so often the camera panned to a close-up of the big, sparkly ball suspended above Times Square.

  “I’m here, I’m here,” Ellen Hayes said as she brought in the tray laden with cookies and that sparkling cider. Cody stood and took the tray from her hands, setting it on the coffee table in the center of the room. Sarah joined him and began handing out glasses to everyone.

  “Ten. Nine. Eight…” The television host counted down with the New York City crowd.

  “Ready, Dad?” Davie asked as he took the glass Sarah offered him.

  “More than, son.”

  “…Three. Two. One. Happy New Year!” The Hayes family members, both present and future, clinked glasses and drank to the possibilities of a brand-new year.

  Sarah hugged and kissed both of Cody’s parents. She ruffled Davie’s hair and clinked glasses with him. Then she cuddled under Cody’s arm—where she fit perfectly.

  She tipped her smiling face up to his and said, “Happy New Year, my love.”

  “Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he replied and dropped his lips to hers for a quick kiss.

  When he let her up for air, she said, “So, I’m thinking Love is the perfect place for a spring wedding. Maybe here on the homestead?”

  “Yeah, perfect,” Cody agreed. “But, we should probably do it before my folks head off on that cruise they decided to book.”

  “Don’t worry,” Sarah said. “They aren’t nomads at heart. They’ll be back just in time for us to break ground.”

  He and Sarah were taking over the homestead although for the time being they were just going to grow trees. Sarah had some ideas about how they could grow a business through the Internet but they hadn’t worked out all the details yet. And the Turners would continue to lease grazing land, for which they were grateful. He and Sarah were planning to move into the home he grew up in. His parents decided to build a smaller, ranch style home that was more manageable for them. They’d be just down the road and able to visit whenever they wanted.

  “I know. But I’d like to be able to take a honeymoon, too. Have you decided where you want to go, yet?” Cody asked his bride-to-be.

  “I’m thinking Disneyland. Davie tells me this is a must see in California and I thought we could spend some time with him before the construction schedule gets too crazy. And I’m hoping Mel will let him spend part of the summer with us here in Love.”

  “I’m sure she will.” Cody would see to it because Love was the perfect place for his family’s roots to grow.

  About the Author

  Cate Grimm is a word nerd, Sudoku addict, and romance writer. She writes kissing books for teens and adults. A former high school English teacher, Cate has an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. She is also a an active member of Romance Writers of America. When she is not working on her own stories, Cate is immersed in research about the Roaring Twenties, enjoying a day at the museum, or diving into her TBR pile.

  You can find out more about Cate at

  www.categrimm.com

  Merry Mismatch

  by Lily Vega

  Stick-in-the-mud CFO Aaron gets under edgy party girl Zara’s skin. His budget cuts jeopardized her project, putting her video game on the company chopping block. Inviting Zara to Windy City Gaming’s holiday retreat to pitch her project seemed like the perfect solution. Aaron didn’t count on his ex-girlfriend’s quest to eliminate the competition by getting Zara fired. He must convince his ex of Zara’s value to the company, while keeping his growing attraction wrapped up tighter than a Christmas present.

  Chapter 1

  Zara strode into the owner of the company’s office prepared to answer for her crimes against coffee mugs, office supplies, and infuriatingly sexy colleagues. In order to survive without hurling a stapler, she deluded herself into believing she could escape unscathed.

  Yep, she was in denial with a capital D.

  To make matters worse, the target of her wrath, the baffling, bothersome, and breathtakingly beautiful director of finance sat in a chair opposite the owner’s mahogany desk. If he didn’t act like a treasure-hoarding dragon, she wouldn’t revel in messing with his office supplies.

  Her blood boiled. Anger was in the house.

  Thank Gandalf that she’d worn her Chicago Cubs hipster panties. Whenever she expected Aaron, a devoted White Sox fan, to annoy her, she sported undies of the rival Chicago team.

  If her job remained intact after the meeting, she promised to stop pranking Aaron and confine herself to her private panty rebellion. And she’d do her best not to stare at him like he was an ice cream cone she was dying to lick.

  Hot damn, she was bargaining.

  Despite her desire to treat her eyeballs to the sight of him in a slim-cut suit, she focused her attention on Cheryl. Zara squared her shoulders and aimed a double-dog-dare-you-to-fire-me smile at the woman who ran Windy City Gaming.

  “Have a seat.” Cheryl ge
stured to the empty leather chair next to Aaron’s. “You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you here.”

  His lips formed a tight line, and he gripped the arms of the chair, as though he anticipated a ten thousand volt zap.

  Why the hell would he look angry over a stupid stunt, especially when the axe hovered over her neck?

  “I assume you want a status report for the Wondrous Worlds project.” Zara opened the folder prepared to share the dismal sales projections. Let Cheryl ask why the final product was a steaming pile of crap. If Aaron hadn’t slashed the budget, they could have afforded a better team of artists.

  “In order to remain competitive, the focus of Windy City Gaming will change in the coming year.” Cheryl tapped the desk with her pen. “All in-progress projects are on the chopping block. The senior management team is going on a retreat in Wisconsin over the holidays to choose the projects that will move forward. We’re in negotiations to sell off the ones that don’t make the cut. Those retained will be fast tracked and revamped. Staff will be right-sized to reflect the reduction in projects.”

  Zara’s breakfast threatened to come up. She had splurged on Christmas presents and probably would be unemployed when the credit card bills arrived.

  “Instead of making the announcement in a group meeting, we wanted to speak individually with any employee who might be affected,” Aaron said.

  Without Zara championing Wondrous Worlds, the game was certain to be dumped, and she’d lose her job. All she wanted to do was sit on her couch with a pint of peanut butter cup ice cream and ponder her woes.

  Oh, hell, this was depression.

  But if somehow the game was a go, she wanted to be the one to lead the project and make Wondrous Worlds a blockbuster. “May I attend the retreat?”

  Cheryl raised her eyebrows.

  “Half the office is out with the stomach flu,” Aaron said. “Zara has an excellent working knowledge of all active projects. She could pitch each one and answer any questions that may arise.”

  Zara’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t figure out if he was trying to help or to set her up for failure. Maybe he wanted to witness her devastation when her project was dropped.

  “Fine.” Cheryl shuffled through a stack of papers on her desk and handed one to Zara. “Here are the directions to the lodge.”

  Zara bit her lip. Once the cost of renting a parking space shot up, she’d sold her car. “Would it be possible to ride share?”

  “I’m heading up tonight directly from work,” Cheryl said.

  “Not a problem. I can pick her up tomorrow morning. Say around 8 AM?” Aaron placed his hand on Zara’s elbow. “If I remember correctly, you live near Belmont. It’s on my way.”

  Tingles rushed up her arm.

  His mussed hair evoked images of him lying naked in a pile of crisp, white sheets.

  Her Cub’s undies were a must for the trip. She needed to keep her head in the game to save her beloved project as well as her job.

  Chapter 2

  Aaron parked his Audi and trudged through the light dusting of snow the three blocks to Zara’s apartment. The trendy Lakeview neighborhood with its eclectic specialty shops that sold everything from ethnic food to funky art objects matched Zara’s quirky personality. Wrigley Field, home of the Cubs baseball team, was a short walk north.

  He’d figured Zara was the one who engineered the pranks. Every time, they disagreed, he’d find something amiss in his ordered world. Last week, all the black ink cartridges in his pens had been replaced with blue ink. The week before, the only clean coffee mugs in the kitchenette bore the Cubs logo. On a different occasion, he found a pink cube of sticky notes on his desk instead of the green sticky notes he favored. As much as the little jokes disrupted his day, he looked forward to discover what she’d do next.

  A woman with a stroller exited the door of Zara’s apartment building, and he slipped inside. Her first floor apartment made him twitchy. He preferred that she lived on a higher level for an added layer of security.

  He rapped on her door and took a step away as it opened.

  Zara’s over-sized black sweater hid her beautifully rendered tattoos. When her tattoos were visible, he longed to trace the lines. The skull pattern on her leggings seemed designed to make her look tough, but her doe eyes ruined the effect.

  “You shouldn’t answer the door unless you know who is on the other side,” he said. “I could be a serial killer.”

  “You only murder budgets and morale.” She waved a hand toward the kitchen. “Help yourself to coffee. I’m almost ready. Just need to throw a couple more things into my bag.”

  He helped himself to a cup of the dark brew and searched the refrigerator for creamer. All he could find was coconut milk.

  Cheryl loved the same sweetened creamers as he did and kept a variety on hand at work. On paper, she was his perfect match, but their commonalities ruined their relationship. Both put their careers ahead of each other, and sex became perfunctory. He’d moved out a year ago and vowed to never again date someone from work.

  Thank goodness Zara volunteered for the trip. Cheryl had been acting strangely. He worried one of her goals for the trip was a reconciliation. He didn’t want to get back together with Cheryl. Zara was the person he couldn’t get off his mind.

  Her unpredictability was as exhilarating as it was frightening. Until he met her, he’d thought himself allergic to surprises.

  She was off limits. Unfortunately, his libido didn’t get the memo on his ban on dating company employees.

  He poured a dollop of coconut milk into his coffee, added a couple of packets of raw sugar, and stirred before taking a sip. Different than he was used to, but not bad. The drink could grow on him like Zara had.

  Something rubbed against his leg. He jerked and splattered coffee on his shirt.

  A black cat blinked up at him.

  “Licorice likes you.” Zara reached around him to scratch behind the cat’s ears. Her scent, a combination of rose and vanilla, stirred his desire.

  “I like licorice,” he said, “but not the cat kind. I’m a dog person.”

  “What kind of dog do you have?”

  “I don’t have a dog. Well, I did have one. Tiny is a toy poodle.” He hadn’t argued when Cheryl insisted on keeping the dog, but he missed being greeted when he came home from work. Even if the one doing the greeting was dyed cotton candy pink.

  “Losing your pet must have been awful.” She scooped up the cat. “Poodle, huh? I never pictured you with a purse-sized pet. I figured you’d own a big dog.”

  “Tiny has too much energy to be contained. Will the cat be okay while you’re gone?”

  “My neighbor will be watching Licorice.” She gave her pet one last cuddle and placed him on the floor.

  “She has a key?” He really needed to have a chat with her about security.

  “Yes, he does. Warren bails me out whenever I accidentally lock myself out.”

  The idea of a strange man having 24/7 access to Zara’s apartment twisted his insides.

  “Does that happen often?” He pictured a guy who fit perfectly in her life, someone spontaneous and quirky just like her. His polar opposite.

  She shrugged. “Enough that I was glad he hung on to the key after we broke up.”

  “We should get on the road. There’s a winter storm advisory.” His words came out clipped and formal as though they were at work rather than in her kitchen chatting about former lovers.

  “Want me to put that in a travel mug?” She nodded at his coffee. “Or are you the type of person who doesn’t allow food and drink in his car?”

  Being the youngest of four boys, he’d come to treasure possessions that weren’t hand-me-downs. He kept his three-year old car as pristine as the day he drove it off the dealership lot. Never had he allowed a crumb or a drop of drink to come anywhere near the upholstery.

  “Sure,” he found himself saying. “A travel mug would be great.”

  “Here you go.” She
handed him a metal mug embossed with the Chicago Cubs logo, topped off her own matching container, and grabbed a foil-wrapped package from the counter.

  “What’s that?”

  “Pumpkin walnut muffins. Baked them this morning.” She squinted at him. “Your nose is all scrunched up. Are you allergic to nuts?”

  “I have an aversion to orange foods,” he admitted. “Once my oldest brother left a Halloween pumpkin out on the porch all winter. A squirrel came by every day and nibbled it until the creature’s fur turned orange. Guess I have a deep-seated fear of turning into an Oompa Loompa.” He had no idea why he spilled his guts, but once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “Then there’s the pumpkin spice phenomenon. The leaves start falling and all of a sudden every food at the grocery store gets a dash of pumpkin spice.”

  “Figures you hate pumpkin. You probably despise Christmas music, people dressed like Santa, and holiday parties too.”

  He shrugged. “Guilty. The worst are New Year’s parties. Everyone tries to forget all of the horrible things that happened during the year. They make New Year’s resolutions that won’t last a week. And then there’s the whole kissing thing.” His gaze moved to her lips. “I’d be happy to carry your luggage to the car.”

  “What’s this about kissing?” She bit her lower lip and he was undone. “You can’t just bring up kissing and not explain.”

  “The kissing after the countdown. Either the person you’re with expects some earth shattering experience, or if you’re alone, there’s this pressure to find someone to kiss. In the end, it’s all hype and false promises. Better off drinking at home and going to bed early.”

  “You’ve clearly been kissing the wrong people.” Her eyes took on a dreamy cast. “With the right person, the kiss will spark the perfect intimate connection.”