The 5th Christmas Kiss

by Wendy Knight

  The 5th Christmas Kiss

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  The 5th Christmas Kiss

  Copyright © 2019 WENDY KNIGHT

  Cover by P.S. Cover Design

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The 5th Christmas Kiss

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Dedicated to Blair. The best kisser I know

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hanging upside down by her seatbelt was not how Azura wanted to spend her Friday night.

  If she somehow managed to free herself without falling on her head and knocking herself unconscious, she was going to find the jerk who ran her off the road and—and—and do something. She wasn’t sure what. Confrontation wasn’t her strong suit. But she was working on that.

  Grunting, she twisted and turned, bracing herself with one hand while she fumbled for the latch with the other.

  “This is gonna hurt,” she muttered as she pushed the button.

  The seatbelt slid away and she crashed down onto her steering wheel like a folded accordion. Crumpled in a heap, she surveyed the situation while agreeing with herself that it had, in fact, hurt. Her little car was upside down in a ditch. The doors wouldn’t open because the banks were holding them shut, but—she twisted uncomfortably, the steering wheel digging into her back—yes. The trunk was clear. She just had to pull down the seats and climb through.

  Something landed on the other side of the rear door, and she screamed.

  It could have been a grizzly.

  Common sense told her five seconds later that she lived in a college town in New Hampshire, and as far as she knew, grizzlies were not native to the area. It could have been escaped from the zoo, though.

  Common sense told her five seconds after that that the thing on the other side of her car was not a bear. It was probably a human. It was hard to tell because snow buried half her car.

  The human/bear creature banged on the back window. “Are you okay in there? Hello?”

  Welp, it could speak. So probably not a bear.

  “I’m okay! I just—I need to get out!” Good. That was a brilliant statement that he probably hadn’t deduced on his own.

  “Okay, no problem. We’ll get you out of there. Hang tight.”

  Hang tight. She’d done that already. It hadn’t ended well. Although technically if she had continued to hang tight, she wouldn’t be all crumpled up in a heap right then. She twisted until she was right side up in her upside down car and crawled across the ceiling to the back seat. There was a latch somewhere that laid the seats down...

  The man on the other side was trying to open the trunk, but the car was locked and hadn’t unlocked automatically when she’d rolled into the ditch. Sighing, she turned around and crawled back to the front and hit the unlock button, praying it would work.

  The click of all the locks in the car was a relief, and she turned to crawl back to the seats just as he popped the trunk. Cold air rushed through the already icy car and tried to steal her breath, but she was too excited about the prospect of freedom to notice. She shimmied head first through the opening in the seat, wriggling her hips to fit through the small space.

  “Give me your hands!” the man called, but with her face smashed against the floor of the trunk, Azura couldn’t see him or even nod. Obediently, she stretched her hands out as far as she could reach and warmth wrapped around them. He pulled—and not gently. It was a tug that sent him flying backward with her coming after him. He landed on his butt in the muddy snow of the ditch as she hung half out of the car with her feet still in the trunk.

  Graceful, for sure.

  Gasping, she slid the rest of the way out of the car and landed, once again, in a heap. At least this time she didn’t have a steering wheel shoved into her spleen.

  “Are you okay?”

  She looked up, trying to brush snow away from her eyelashes. Her human/bear creature was a man, which she guessed earlier from his voice. She had not guessed that he would be so hot, and words failed her. “Uh—”

  He shoved himself to his knees and knee-walked over to her, his now-frozen hands cupping her face. “Did you hit your head? Crap, you’re probably in shock.” To someone up on the bank, he yelled, “Call 911!”

  “We did that already. They’re on their way.” The voice above was a woman.

  Or maybe a smaller human/bear creature.

  “No, I’m fine. I didn’t hit my head.” Azura blinked, trying to remember if she had actually hit her head. It all happened so fast—the truck had slid around the corner, going slow but still out of control on the ice. She’d tried to brake and when that hadn’t worked, spun her wheel to try to avoid the impending doom. Instead, her car had oh so gracefully twirled to the side of the road like it thought it was some kind of ballerina and slid gently into the ditch. Then it had taken a few seconds to contemplate its life choices before tipping the rest of the way over onto its top. “I don’t think I even have whiplash,” she finished lamely.

  Still, the dark brown eyes searched her face while his fingers swept across her forehead and scalp, looking for bumps, she assumed. “I thought you were a bear,” she said because she could think of nothing else to say.

  He blinked and sat back, brow furrowed. “You’re sure you didn’t hit your head?”

  “You are very attractive.” And familiar. Azura was pretty sure she’d seen him around campus. “I’m fine. Honestly. But I’m freezing. Could we maybe get out of the ditch?”

  “Right, yeah. Let’s get you back to the truck where it’s warm.” He scrambled to his feet and pulled her up toward him. She swayed, her feet unsteady beneath her, and his hands caught her waist. “I’m pretty sure she’s in shock,” he called to the people or human/bear creatures on the road.

  “They’re almost here!” Same voice. Maybe it was just one human/bear creature.

  But no, because another man’s head came into view as he reached his hands down to help her up. The voice she’d heard definitely did not belong to him. “Right here, I’ve got you.”

  From behind, Hot Guy helped push, which would have been super awkward normally, but at the moment all she cared about was that his hands were warm against her legs. Warmth. She liked warmth.

  There was another man helping Hot Guy out of the ditch. Azura had no idea where they’d all come from. When she’d been driving, the road
s had been pretty deserted.

  “Here, sweetie. This is warm. Let’s get you in the truck.” The woman who belonged to the voice and was not a human/bear creature either wrapped her in a blanket and led her toward a black truck.

  The black truck that had run her off the road.

  “Wait. What? I’m not getting in that thing.” She dug her heels in and pulled away, which would have been more effective if the road wasn’t covered in ice. “It ran me off the road!”

  Hot Guy walked up behind her, wiping his muddy hands on his jeans. “I know. I’m so sorry. I slid on the ice—”

  “You were driving?”

  Suddenly, he wasn’t so hot. She wanted to throw the blanket at him, but it was really warm and he didn’t deserve that warmth.

  “Yeah. It’s black ice. I couldn’t even see it under the snow. I was going slow—”

  “And yet I ended up upside down in a ditch. I was hanging upside down by my seatbelt. On Friday night. Do you know what that means?” Later, she would be really proud of her confrontation skills, but at the moment her mouth just seemed to be moving without her brain’s permission.

  “I—” he looked from the other guys standing with him to the woman who still held her hand out like she could possibly talk Azura into getting in that truck. They shrugged. “No?”

  “Hmph.” She stomped away, not sure where she was going but angry enough to wing it without a plan. Thank goodness the cops showed up then. They asked questions, she answered, and she heard Hot Guy say he was pretty sure she was in shock, and then they talked her into going in the ambulance, which wasn’t hard because it was warm. She liked warm.

  “This is why I hate Christmas!” she declared loudly as they attempted to get her settled. “Christmas brings winter and winter brings ice and then I get run off the road and hung upside down by my seatbelt.”

  “That’s not Christmas, Ms. Conley. That’s just the bad weather.” The EMT successfully maneuvered her onto a gurney. At some point they’d slid a neck brace on, but she wasn’t sure when. “This storm has caused a lot of problems.”

  “No,” she argued, shrugging away from him. “It’s Christmas. Christmas causes lots of problems.”

  Hot Guy stood at the door, watching her worriedly. “Is she going to be okay?”

  She was annoyed beyond belief that he was so gorgeous, and she flipped him off. “I’m fine,” she snarled, but it was warm, and her eyes were tired and real vehemence took too much energy. “Much like your truck that didn’t go into the ditch.”

  “We’ll get her taken care of, Mr. Bacall.” The EMT seemed apologetic on her behalf, which was outrageous. They should all be apologetic to her.

  She snuggled down into her blanket and closed her eyes. Stupid Mr. Hot Guy Bacall.

  And stupid Christmas.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Crew had almost skipped his favorite aunt’s Christmas party that night. The weather wasn’t great, and he’d already had one near-accident that week. No need to make it two.

  Unless it helped him find the girl he’d almost hit. Then it might be worth it.

  He’d made it, though, because his Auntie Leah threw the biggest Christmas parties in the area, and they were always worth the trip out. He’d dragged his sister, Katrina, with him.

  She needed to get out more.

  Last year, Leah had promised to go smaller when the cops had to break up the party because there were too many people in her house, and it violated some sort of fire code.

  She had forgotten that, apparently.

  Crew fought his way through the throngs of people to the kitchen, hoping for a drink and maybe a little space that wasn’t invaded by women every time he moved. “Do you like my addition?” Leah asked as he came within hearing range—which was at her elbow because the kitchen was as packed as the rest of the house.

  “What addition is that?” Crew had to yell to be heard over the general chaos.

  She motioned with her chin toward the ceiling, where mistletoe hung every three or four feet. “It’s everywhere. Just for you and Katrina.” She smiled wickedly. “I thought you might need some help.

  Crew laughed, shaking his head. “Of course, you did.”

  He and Katrina were the last grandchildren in the family to still be single. Katrina was only twenty, so she had an excuse, but Crew was practically out to pasture at almost twenty-two, at least according to his family. “He’s not exactly hurting for dates, Auntie. I had to fight off three girls just this morning who thought I was his girlfriend and not his sister.” Katrina rolled her eyes. She’d appeared out of the crowd like a wraith, her dark hair twisted with tinsel and pulled away from her face. Like her auntie, Katrina loved Christmas.

  Crew did too, but he wasn’t about to wrap tinsel all over his head for it.

  “What?” Leah exclaimed, nearly dropping the ladle in punch bowl. “Why are you not dating all those women?”

  Katrina smirked, satisfied with her tattle-telling. “Yes. Why is that, Crew?”

  “They’re after my money. Not me.” Crew took his drink and attempted to flee but failed. The crowd seemed to be in cahoots with Leah and held him in place, forcing him to meet her death stare.

  “How do you know? Did you even give them a chance?”

  That death stare was terrifying. And legendary. When she’d been a school teacher, it had held entire rooms of teenagers frozen in fear. That was not an easy thing to do.

  “I just know. But I do appreciate the mistletoe. If nothing else, it’ll keep this party from being too dull.”

  Leah gasped in outrage and Katrina scuttled away for cover as Crew laughed, finally escaping through the throngs of people.

  “That was close,” his cousin, Garrett, raised his cup as Crew fought his way to Garrett’s side. He’d staked out a spot in the living room, safely positioned away from any mistletoe. The girl Garrett had been in love with since he was a kid didn’t live in the area, so he was flying solo and kissing strangers wasn’t something he was entirely thrilled about.

  Not that they didn’t try. Garrett had the Bacall family money and dark good looks, although he wasn’t as tall as Crew.

  Or as built, as Crew liked to point out. It usually got him hit, but it was worth it. Crew had been playing football his whole life and he played for the University now. Garrett was a brilliant geek who only played football on Thanksgiving morning because it was a family tradition going back a thousand years.

  Or so their fathers said.

  “Auntie Leah is going to kill you for that comment. You know that, right?” Garrett grinned as if the thought appealed to him.

  Crew started to respond but his attention was caught by the woman who had just walked through the door.

  Azura. He’d seen her name on the ticket he’d been issued at the accident and hadn’t been able to get it out of his head since.

  He recognized her instantly, but she was more gorgeous than the first time he’d seen her—and he hadn’t thought that was possible.

  Even when she was flipping him off.

  Her dark hair tumbled down her back to almost her waist, her eyes—huge and green—were scowling across the room—

  Scowling? At a Christmas party?

  Who did that?

  “Hello?” Garrett waved his cup in front of Crew’s face, nearly spilling his drink. “You in there?”

  She wasn’t covered in snow and drenched to the skin now, either. She looked like she’d just stepped off the cover of one of Katrina’s many magazines. His family owned Being Beautiful, the biggest fashion and lifestyle magazine in the country. As one of their student editors, Katrina took her research into the competition very seriously.

  “Damn. She’s beautiful.” He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until Garrett snorted and turned to the crowd, searching their faces.

  “Azura? She’s here? Did you ever get to talk to her at the hospital last night?”

  Crew had waited at the hospital the night before for hours, wanting to ma
ke sure she was okay. He’d offered to pay her medical bills and he’d offered to drive her home, but she’d been in with the doctor and no one would let him back there.

  “No. Someone came and picked her up and they left out a different door. I never got to see her after the EMTs loaded her up in the ambulance.” He couldn’t quite tear his eyes from her when he answered Garrett. She was tall. In her six-inch heels, she probably came to the bridge of his nose, and he was 6’4”.

  “Go talk to her. She looks thrilled to be here. A friendly face might make her more comfortable.” Garrett motioned toward Azura with his cup, nearly spilling the drink again. Crew rescued it from his hand and set it safely on a nearby table. That’s all they’d need, for Garrett to dump his drink on someone’s head.

  Leah would kill them both at dinner on Sunday.

  “Plus,” Garrett frowned at his empty hand. “You already know she thinks you’re attractive.”

  Crew smirked. Her dark green eyes staring into his soul while she crazily told him he was attractive ranked right up there as one of his favorite moments ever. “Right. Okay. Going in.”

  Garrett shook his head, stealing his cup off the table. “Why the fear, Crew? You get hit on all the time. You walk around campus like a god. And yet here you are scared to death of a tiny little—who is she? She drives an old car. She’s—it’s because she flipped you off, isn’t it? That’s a ridiculous reason to be scared of someone.”

  Crew shook his head. It was more than that, but he didn’t know how to explain it to his cousin who was, at the moment, semi-drunk, judging by the way he was flinging his drink around. No sober person would do that.

  With one last, pointed look at Garrett, Crew abandoned him to wade through the throngs of people. She’d made her way to the middle of the room and was turning in slow, annoyed circles.

  Right under the mistletoe.

  “Azura, right?” He had to yell to be heard over the crowd. The dark green eyes narrowed when they landed on him and his heart sped up. “I’m—”

  “The guy who ran me off the road yesterday. Yeah, I know.”