by Ellie Hall
The crowd laughed and Cole disappeared into the throng of people.
Someone shouted, "We've been nice. What about a song?"
The crowd chanted, "All I want for Christmas."
Clara met Logan's eyes. They shined, but not with sadness. He gave a little nod.
"I'll sing, but not alone. Christmas is about being together. About caroling, cocoa, cookies..." He interrupted himself and told them about the bake sale.
A member of the press called, "Logan, do you officially support the Angel Ears Animal Shelter?"
He beamed. "I do and all proceeds from the download and sale of All I want for Christmas is You will hereby be donated to the shelter." He muttered to Clara. "My manager is going to hate me for this."
"But the dogs will love you."
At that, he broke into Jingle Bells and everyone joined in.
Chapter 10
Logan
After a lively round of Christmas carols, excluding All I Want for Christmas is You, dozens of people asking for autographs and photos with Logan, and a lengthily process of connecting with potential adoptive families and individuals, Logan and Clara walked back to Animal Ears, towing the wagon, with just two puppies remaining: Dotty and Doggle.
They recapped the evening: the success and spots of mayhem. They didn't see Cole again and Logan felt protective—if Cole bothered her, he'd have him to answer to. However, the Christmas fantasy was fleeting because he'd soon be leaving and that made him slow his pace. He didn't want the night to end; he didn't want to…leave.
Thirty families applied for the puppies and with the help of the other volunteers from the shelter, they made matches giving ten of the puppies forever homes and loads of interest in some of the other dogs.
"We're going to contact the other prospective new dog moms and dads next week with the next batch of puppies and some of the other dogs that are already at the shelter," Clara said.
Logan tried to imagine a life where he could adopt a dog. His phone beeped a bunch of times and he silenced it. His manager was upset and elated. He wasn't sure which he preferred.
The snow continued to fall, but gently now and the city was sleepy, a rarity in New York. Likely, everyone tucked in for the night, maybe dreaming of sugar plum fairies.
Clara gazed at the stars twinkling above. "There was something magical about tonight. Thank you for being brave. For not running from your fans or your past."
His fingers found hers and they warmed instantly. A tingling feeling ran through his veins, like an arrow shooting toward his heart. They walked a distance farther and turned down a street.
"I'm not a New Yorker, but I don't think this is the right way," Logan said.
Clara squeezed his hand. "We're going to do something a little weird. Maybe even creepy."
"You? Bubbles the elf, creepy? On Christmas Eve?" he asked with disbelief. He wondered what she was up to now.
She paused in front of a brownstone home. A tree lit up with white lights, filled one window. She stood on the stoop and leaned over to peek in the other one.
A woman stood at the sink, cleaning dishes. At the table, a man wrapped presents. Resting contentedly on a yellow cushion embroidered with the name Daisy was a white Bichon Frise dog.
Logan's mouth dropped open. "You knew all along."
"When you said Daisy…I'm sorry about your grandmother. She adopted Daisy from Angel Ears years ago. Everyone adored her. She was generous and made annual donations, sometimes brought us tea..."
A sigh escaped Logan's throat as he turned away from the picture perfect scene in the kitchen. "When I got my first record deal, I'd just turned eighteen. Granny Dotty moved to the states because she said she didn't want me to lose my manners. Mostly, I think she wanted to look after me. Didn't want me to get into trouble. She got Daisy to keep her company when I started going out on tour, gone for long stretches of time. I let her down." Leaving on tour in the coming days, he felt like he was letting her down all over again, including Clara and Dotty the dog.
She checked on the two remaining puppies, snug under the blankets in the wagon. She sighed. "I think she's looking down, pleased with how this Christmas Eve turned out."
"You spilled cocoa on my sweatshirt, tricked me into going along with your harebrained plan, got me to donate who knows how much money to the shelter, and made me..." He stepped onto the sidewalk and slid on the slippery ground, knocking into Clara and they both careened into a snowbank.
She landed on top of him and they gazed into each other's eyes. "Admit it, it was a pretty good plan that I didn't even realize I had." Her elf hat jingled as she winked.
Once again, their eyes met and they melted together, mouths crashing, hearts racing, desperate for the other. Logan's mind drifted between the softness of her lips and the intensity of her desire. His hands found her hair and tangled in the soft strands. She pulled him close as though eager for more. He'd happily give her more; he'd give her anything, if only he had more to offer. He wanted to give her a thousand kisses, the sun and moon and all the snow in the world. But all he could give her was a goodbye the day after next.
As if they both sensed this, they pull apart. She shuffled onto the sidewalk, straightening her coat and hat.
He brushed off the snow.
"We shouldn't let this happen. Not when there's work to be done, not when you're leaving, not when our lives are so different," her voice was a whisper as if she didn't want to hear the truth.
Logan struggled to find an exception, to devise a plan, an alternative. All he came up with was another kiss even though he knew better. Warmth radiated from her. Her eyes flutter closed, his lips brushed hers. It was everything he needed and wanted. His fingers trailed along her collarbone, her jaw, and cupped the back of her head. She knotted her fingers in his hair as though she wasn't going to let go. The kiss went on longer, but not long enough because his phone vibrated then again.
He grumbled and they continued their walk back to the shelter. Logan helped her get the dogs settled in.
She hopped up and down. "I didn't realize how cold I was after being outside for hours." She warmed up some water. "Can I interest you in some cocoa?"
Logan eyed his stained shirt and jacket. He didn't want to say goodbye. Creating distance would be easier. "Nah, I'd better get going, pack, and whatnot before the tour bus leaves." He couldn't go to the apartment, but he knew he shouldn't stay. It would only make things harder.
She nodded. "Right. Well, okay."
"Can I call you a cab? You probably shouldn't walk home this late."
The clock ticked across the room.
She shrugged. "It's a nice night. I might stay here a bit longer. Company's good." She patted Doggle.
"It sure was." Logan let out his breath.
"It is," she corrected, letting the words trail as though she didn't want to let go either.
He gave Dotty a little pat and then turned to Clara. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and then stepped closer.
She bit her lip and then gently placed a hand on his chest. "It was really nice meeting you. I've never known an actual famous person. You're not quite what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"The worst."
He chuckled.
"Thanks for everything with the dogs." She blinked a few times and then forced a smile.
He knew it was fake because he'd kept track of all of them: there was the one when she was feeling silly, delighted, flirtatious…This one wasn't really a smile.
"Of course. You certainly worked some magic tonight, Clara." He couldn't deny she enchanted him, perhaps something more.
"You helped and you have my number. I suppose your manager will be in touch about the donations."
Logan's lips parted then he swallowed back whatever the words that jumped to his tongue: let's not end this, let's figure it out, I don't want to say goodbye.
"Merry Christmas, Grouchy McCrabbypants."
"Merry Charismas, Bubbles
Sugarplum."
With that, Logan swept from the building, leaving Clara with a gust of cold night air. The night chilled him in a way he couldn't have expected when she stepped into his life at the Grind Coffee shop earlier that day. She'd uncovered the warmth within him, but he was left feeling cold and if he was honest, lonely.
He walked down the street, thinking, contemplating, letting the snow settle around him, each flake like a possibility he brushed off. When he found himself circling the block again and then again, he imagined her cleaning up the shelter, filling out forms, and closing the office for the night.
He couldn't stop thinking about her. He held onto the hope that she couldn't stop thinking about him either.
The way they infuriated each other. The way she giggled when he sprayed her with whipped cream and tickled her. The way they each confessed their troubles. She helped him be brave and generous and all the things he didn't expect. However, mostly he didn't expect the feeling that filled his heart.
While cleaning up the shelter, filling out the forms, and closing the office for the night Clara kept thinking about how Penny wouldn't believe the story. She supposed now they could fangirl together. Maybe she could get tickets to his concert the next time he visited New York, Chicago, or Houston. Perhaps she could just follow him around the country, around the world. She laughed at how ludicrous it was.
Clara clicked the office computer on to see where he'd be next. Nashville. She'd never been there. She couldn't afford a ticket or leave work anyway. It was a foolish hope. A Christmas wish.
She knew a long distance relationship with a rock star would never work. She opened her email because if she was honest, being with the dogs was much better than being in her little, tiny studio alone. Dotty sat in her lap and Doggle by her feet.
At least a hundred emails flooded her inbox: orders for the Well Knit Woof. Her mouth fell open. She heard a jingle, but it didn't come from her hat.
"Hello," a squeaky voice called.
Her brow furrowed. "I'm sorry. We're closed," she called.
"I'm here to adopt a puppy."
She got to her feet.
Logan filled the doorway.
"Why are you talking like that?"
"That's my elf voice." He smirked.
Clara burst into laughter. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought we agreed no questions."
"Seems like a reasonable one."
He crossed the room in a few short strides as though he couldn't wait to be near her again. "Well, I already told you. I want to adopt a puppy."
"What about your tour?" A flare of crazy hope shot through Clara's chest. She could never expect him to trade his career for a girl or a dog he'd just met.
"I can't stop thinking about—"
A little yap sounded from the chair.
Clara picked up the little white dog. "Dotty. She missed you."
"Did she? I missed her."
Their eyes met. His twinkled and she couldn't look away.
"It's been less than thirty minutes." Her breath came out at a whisper.
"I walked around the block about fifteen times until I thought of a solution."
"To what problem?" She tilted her head. The dogs did too.
"There are two puppies left. Dotty and Doggle. She's small, and he's big. I really ought to only have one dog, but I thought of someone else who loves animals and would give Doggle a great forever home."
"Logan, I see what you're getting at. You've been in my little, tiny apartment. That's no place for a dog and on tour, how will you look after her?"
"Well, I've grown rather fond of Dotty and wouldn't want to leave her alone, especially not on holidays or Sundays, Mondays…" He listed the rest of the days of the week.
"It's really sweet of you to offer to take her, but the shelter has rules. You have to be able to provide care and—"
He stepped closer. "I know of an elf who rather likes dogs and who might not mind looking after them."
"An elf? Seriously, you know an elf?" Her hand flew to her hip in disbelief.
He cocked his head and amusement blossomed on his face.
"I'm not actually an elf. Listen, that's an interesting idea, but I work three jobs. My apartment—you know. I have tons of debt and just received more orders for the Well Knit Woof than I'll be able to fill in the coming days. I—"
He brought his two first fingers to her lips. "Listen. I was thinking you could come along and be the official dog handler."
Clara's mouth fell open. "I'd have to think about it. I don't think I can afford—"
"You'd be compensated. You wouldn't have to be part of the entourage. You'd have your own: Dotty and Doggle."
She laughed.
"You did a good job convincing me that Christmas isn't all that bad even when we miss the people we love and the last thirty minutes were excruciating. I don't want to miss you for another second."
Clara's pulse thundered, drowning out her protests and thoughts, and rushing toward what he meant.
"You made so many people happy tonight, me included. I'm so used to hearing my own voice it was refreshing listening to everyone singing together. You found countless dogs homes."
"I suppose I did get my Christmas miracle. All the puppies found their families."
"Does that mean I can adopt Dotty? Doggle will be yours, and we—?" He suddenly looked shy.
"What?"
"I suppose I got one too."
"What's that?"
"You." Logan leaned closer.
Clara beamed with disbelief. "I'm your Christmas miracle?"
He started singing and it only took her a moment to pick up the lyrics to All I want for Christmas is You. Logan looked up and pointed with one finger. "Underneath the mistletoe…" Then his lips landed on hers and they both had everything they wanted.
Read an excerpt from Only a Kiss with a Billionaire book 1 in the Only Us series, featuring Emma (Penny’s sister) and bad boy model and gym owner Will.
Staging a fake relationship is the plan. Falling in love isn't. Will only a kiss turn into more?
Chapter 1
Emma
For Emma Jones, it was not the most wonderful time of the year.
Not when she was alone.
Not when she was living on her sister's couch.
Not when she had to start her new job on Christmas Day.
Not when she had a broken heart.
And definitely not when she was out of ice cream. She let out a long sigh, making a cloud with her breath as she poked through the freezer with its bags of frozen vegetables, boxed pizza, and unidentified bricks of food, hoping for some vanilla fudge ripple, chunky monkey, or cookie dough. Her sister was a baker, surely she had cookie dough ice cream.
"Emmaline Catherine Jones, what are you doing in the freezer at nine am?" Penny scolded from the doorway.
Emma startled at the sound of her sister's voice and in her haste to shut the freezer door, knocked herself in the head. She reopened the door and reached for something cold so she didn't get a bump.
"Oh no you don't." Penny rushed into the kitchen. She rented a small apartment in New York City she lovingly referred to as the kitchen closet, so it wasn't far to go. Her one requirement was the kitchen needed to have plenty of counter space, which she traded for space just about everywhere else. Emma was grateful to be able to stay on the couch after the company she briefly worked for filed for bankruptcy, but it was even more cramped than usual. Not to mention the Christmas tree and decorations. In the background, L Ryder's version All I Want for Christmas is You played for what seemed like the millionth time.
Emma cupped the side of her head. "I was getting ice. You saw that I'd closed—"
"I saw that you were going for another pint of ice cream." Penny's hand was on her hip and she narrowed her eyes at her younger sister.
Emma tucked her head and responded with a bashful look. "I just wanted to see if I needed to buy ice cream while I'm out."
; "You've gone through two cartons. In two days. Why don't we bake cookies? Switch it up a little bit." Penny suggested. "Maybe get off the couch. Go for a run."
In the past, a long run helped Emma forget about her worries but lately, it only provided her more time to dwell on everything that had gone wrong.
"Then you're not concerned about my waistline?" She felt the hint of laughter on her lips, a rarity when so often lately she found herself with a frown.
"No. If anything you could stand to gain a few pounds." Penny reached for a mixing bowl, always ready to bake.
"I can't now. I have to head over to Apex."
Clara, their mutual friend, received an amazingly fast response when she asked if there were any openings at the gym where she worked part-time. Apparently, they were desperate.
"Then we'll bake when you get home. It's Christmas after all." Penny opened her arms for a hug.
"Definitely." Emma nuzzled into her sister's familiar embrace, desperate for relief from the empty ache in her heart. She wanted something, anything—ice cream, cookies, Christmas carols—to provide relief but it seemed like the more she reached out the more she was reminded of how very alone she now was.
"There's a deli with healthy options on the corner by the gym that should be open for lunch."
Emma stuck her tongue out at Penny. "Okay, Mom. I'll make sure I eat my veggies too."
Penny wrinkled her nose back.
"If I were Mom, I'd tell you to find yourself a rich man and that probably won't happen at the deli."
Penny was only a year and a half older but had a maternal softness that Emma appreciated—though not so much when they were younger. Whereas their actual mother was somewhere in the Caribbean with her latest wealthy suitor and could only be relied upon to encourage the girls to marry for money.
Emma bundled up in her coat, hat, and scarf—all knit by their beloved grandmother who'd passed away. She hated being cold.
The Christmas carols in the background changed to the Twelve Days of Christmas. Emma and Penny locked eyes and started singing. It was a tradition that whatever they were doing when it came on, they had to stop and sing the song in its entirety. They had it memorized and found it would be stuck in their heads so over the years they'd change up the words. Then it got out of hand and they'd email each other a sound bite of the song, leave some snippet of the song in a voicemail and the other sister vowed to sing from the first day to the last, five golden rings and all.