Love, Snow and Mistletoe: Four Sweet Christmas Romance Novellas

by Victorine E. Lieske

  “It’ll be too late.” Damon looked so miserable, she almost relented.

  “Maybe you can get your money back on that diamond,” she suggested. “It wouldn’t be a million dollars, but it’d be better than nothing.

  “Don’t worry.” He kicked at the ground. “I’ve had that ring a while. I got turned down the last time, too.”

  “Next time, you should wait until you’re in love before you propose.” Amy tempered her tone.

  “Maybe,” he said glumly. “Can I still be your agent?”

  “Even if we lose the deal?”

  “You’re more important than the money.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry for everything, Abigail.”

  “Amy,” she corrected.

  “Amy.” Damon rolled his eyes.

  “Maybe if I called NetShows myself—”

  “It won’t work,” Damon said. “After Friday, Compton’s out of the office until mid-January.”

  “I might have a solution.” Max flashed his amazing Lincoln-Reeves dimples and pulled her into a firm kiss that made her toes curl. “When we go to LA tomorrow, you’ll meet my brother-in-law. His name’s Matt Compton.”

  “Cripes! Compton’s your brother-in-law?” Damon pushed his fingers through his hair, leaving it a rumpled mess. He clapped Max on the shoulder. “Uhmm… Listen, Mack… No hard feelings about the magazine thing, right? I can be a little pushy sometimes, but I really want Abigail… I mean, Amy… to succeed.”

  Something impacted Amy’s side, and she found a pair of nine-year-old arms wrapped around her waist.

  “Dad, you told me you’d come get me when it was safe,” Cady complained. “Is the man with the gun going to jail?” She aimed a searing glare at Damon. “Is Amy coming home?

  “Yes, Cadence. Amy’s coming home.” Max picked up his daughter, setting her on his hip, snuggling Amy against him with his other arm. “She’s coming home to stay.”

  Epilogue

  Christmas Eve morning, one year later

  Amy hung the last stocking on the fireplace mantle and stood back to admire the final product. “Fourteen stockings. I barely had room.”

  She wasn’t really complaining about his large family. It was one of her favorite things about being married to Mack McCoy.

  “It looks great.” Max wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling her neck. “The whole house is amazing.”

  “I don’t see how we’re going to squeeze one more stocking on the mantle next year.” She laid her arms over his, where they rested on the soft swell of her belly.

  “Guess we’ll have to build a bigger fireplace.” He kissed the top of her ear. “I might as well make it wide enough for at least six more.”

  She nudged him playfully with her elbow and turned to face him. “You’d better be talking about your sisters having more kids. I already told you two babies is my limit.”

  “Hmm,” he said, which Amy had learned to interpret as we’ll see about that.

  He walked over to straighten one of the stockings. “I’ve been thinking about names. Since Cadence has a music name, I think our baby girl needs a book name.”

  “Like what? Chapter, and call her Chap?”

  He laughed. “Actually, I was thinking of Page.”

  “Page… that’s kind of cute.”

  He slung his arm around her shoulder. “If you’ll keep having babies, I’ll do the hard part—coming up with amazing names.”

  “Ha! Thanks a lot for doing the hard part.” She shoved ineffectually at his side. “Anyway, I can’t be raising four or five kids by myself while you go gallivanting all over the country on music tours.”

  “It’s your fault,” he teased. “You not only got me singing again, but your song, Back in My Soul, has been at the top of the charts for months.”

  He loved to remind her, knowing how proud she was of her part in his comeback.

  “I should never have encouraged you.” She twisted her head toward him and pursed her lips, and he answered with a tender kiss.

  “I don’t think these weekend-only tours will be too bad. I’ll fly out for a couple of days and fly back.” He moved around to face her and stooped, pressing his lips to her belly. “And Mom volunteered to stay with you while I’m gone.”

  “That’s true. I’ll love having her here.” She groaned, rubbing her achy lower back. “In fact, we’ll have so much fun, I probably won’t miss you at all.”

  He tilted his head, squinting his deep green eyes. “If you weren’t pregnant, I’d throw you on the bed and tickle you for that comment.”

  “That could be fun.” She waggled her eyebrows. “By the way, Damon accepted the invitation.”

  “He’s coming for Christmas dinner?”

  “Yes, I hope it’s not a mistake. He can’t seem to talk about anything but the Emmy award that Cozy State Mysteries won.”

  “We’ll tell him no business talk.”

  “Good luck with that.” She rubbed her belly where she felt a kick. “And get this… he’s bringing his girlfriend.”

  “He’s got a girlfriend?”

  “Hard to believe, right? I already told him he’d better not try to offer her the same engagement ring he offered me and the other woman.”

  Cady yelled from the kitchen, “Ma-mie,” her version of combining Mommy and Amy. “The timer went off. The cookies are cool enough to decorate.”

  “I’m coming.” Amy started for the kitchen.

  “Wait.” Max grasped her hand and pulled her back against him, bending to accommodate the baby. “I need a hug for strength while I go split wood, especially since you won’t come watch me anymore.”

  “I always admire you through the window.”

  “Nice try, but I’m not buying it. Yesterday, I stood outside the window and waved at you, but you were so intent on your laptop, you never even looked up.”

  “Sorry.” She grimaced apologetically. “I was writing a really exciting part. The killer was stalking Rebel when she left her OB/GYN appointment.”

  He grinned. “How do you think your readers will respond to Rebel being a wife and a mom?”

  “So far, my beta-reader response has been positive. They’re all in love with Linc, anyway.”

  “You mean, they’re in love with me, right?” He jutted his chest forward, sticking his thumbs under imaginary suspenders.

  “Not half as much as I am.”

  “And not a tenth as much as I love you, Mrs. McCoy.” His emerald eyes sang love into her soul.

  Then he kissed her with a passion that drove every thought from her head. Their lips tangled in the promise of love. And for a moment she forgot about her books and his songs and Christmas and family and everything else that brought joy to her new life. There was no Rebel Prescott. There was no Lincoln Reeves. In that breathtaking moment, the only thing on her mind was her own private, swoon-worthy hero… Maxwell McCoy.

  The End

  If you liked Amy and Max’s story, you’ll enjoy The Billionaire’s Secret Marriage.

  Stephanie Caldwell made the classic mistake… she fell in love with her boss.

  The fact that Bran is blind makes no difference to Steph—she thinks he’s the most handsome man she’s ever laid eyes on. If only she didn’t have to see him every day, she could force herself to give up her pipe dreams. But she can’t quit--she needs this job to pay for her daughter’s medical treatment. To make things worse, he just got engaged!

  Billionaire Branson Knight is pragmatic about his love life. He knows women don’t see him as a man, but as a blind person, worthy of pity. His only value lies in his wealth. So his engagement is merely a means to an end. But the last thing he wants to end is his relationship with Stephanie--he’s become dangerously dependent on his efficient personal assistant.

  When Bran’s friends drag him off to Las Vegas, he convinces Steph to go along, to prevent him from panicking in the noisy, crowded environment. His fiancée, however, sees the trip as the perfect opportunity to coerc
e Bran into a quickie wedding. Steph and his friends are determined to prevent the disastrous union. But everyone has a secret…

  Start reading Stephanie and Branson’s story now!

  Tamie Dearen writes Sweet Romance, Christian Romance, and Young Adult Fantasy.

  Sign up for Tamie Dearen’s VIP Reader Newsletter and get a free book.

  Books by Tamie Dearen

  Sweet Romance

  The Best Girls Series:

  The Best is Yet to Come

  Her Best Match

  Best Dating Rules

  Best Foot Forward

  Best Laid Plans

  Best Intentions

  Sweet Romance

  A Rose in Bloom

  Restoring Romance

  Fall Into Romance Boxed Set

  Sweet Inspirational Romance

  The Billionaire’s Secret Marriage

  The Billionaire’s Reckless Marriage

  The Billionaire’s Wayward Marriage (Coming soon)

  Christian Romance

  Noelle’s Golden Christmas

  Haley’s Hangdog Holiday

  Shara’s Happy New-foundland Year

  Holiday, Inc. Boxed Set

  The Alora Series

  YA/Fantasy

  Alora: The Wander-Jewel

  Alora: The Portal

  Alora: The Maladorn Scroll

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  A Second Chance for Romance

  Michelle Pennington

  Chapter 1

  Renting an upstairs apartment had seemed like a great idea to Grace, until she’d had to move in. With a three-year-old underfoot. In frigid December cold. At night.

  But she’d done a lot of hard things over the last year, so she could do this. She grabbed two trash bags full of clothes while trying to keep an eye on her open front door. She had put a child gate across it to keep her daughter inside, but Bella kept trying to climb over it.

  The red ties of the heavy bags dug into Grace’s hands as she walked quickly from her car to the cement stairs. When she made the half-landing, she looked up at her doorway again and saw Bella standing on top of the child-gate, trying to figure out how to get down. An image of her falling flat on her face onto the concrete flashed through Grace’s mind.

  Dropping the two trash bags, Grace ran up the stairs and grabbed Bella from her precarious perch. “I told you not to climb over the gate.”

  “But Mommy, I wanted you.”

  Dewdrop tears rolled down her daughter’s cheeks, making Grace melt—as always. This situation wasn’t ideal for either of them, but somehow, she had to get everything moved into the apartment tonight. She tried to think of a way to keep Grace happy and entertained, but none of her toys had done the trick and their little TV was still down in her car.

  A male voice on the stairs caught her attention. “Hey, who left their trash on the stairs?”

  Grace gasped and ran over to the railing. She looked down at a pair of broad shoulders and short, dark hair. “I’m so sorry. Those bags are mine, but they aren’t trash. I’m coming to get them.”

  The man glanced up at her. “I’ll get them since I’m coming up anyway.”

  Grace watched, appalled at causing some stranger trouble and set Bella back inside the apartment. She moved the box Isabelle had pushed over to the gate to climb up on, then ran back to get her bags. Before she got there, however, she heard a soft curse. When she turned the corner around the railing, she saw her clothes spilled down the stairs and the trash bag in the guy’s hand, fluttering limply in the breeze.

  “It caught on something and tore.” He sounded both appalled and apologetic.

  Their eyes met over the scattered pile of Grace’s clothes, and she got the shock of her life. “Sam?”

  “Gracie?”

  Studying him, Grace took in the changed but achingly familiar features of her childhood best friend. The years had filled out and hardened his once thin and angular physique so that she almost hadn’t recognized him until she got a good look at his face. But she could see the boy she’d once worshiped in his aquiline nose and thick, expressive brows. Unfortunately, she could also see the young man she’d hurt and ignored in the wariness of his clear green eyes. Of all the people to run into, why him?

  “Do you live here?” Grace asked.

  He nodded and pointed up and to the right. “In 204.”

  “Oh.” Grace knew her voice rang with consternation, but couldn’t help it. “I’m moving into 201.”

  Sam held her eyes for a long moment. There was a lot of bad history hanging between them and nothing to bridge the distance besides her once clean laundry. “Well,” Sam said at last, “why don’t you take this bag upstairs and I’ll start gathering all this up.”

  Grace took the bag that had survived from him and ran upstairs, careful not to catch it on anything. Why couldn’t this bag have ripped open? The one with Bella’s clothes?

  Leaning through her open door, she checked to make sure Bella was still okay and tossed the bag over the gate into the living room. Racing back downstairs, she carefully avoided Sam’s eyes as she gathered up the clothes she could reach. She gasped when she saw a pair of her panties about to slip between the steps and grabbed for them. Praying Sam hadn’t seen, she straightened.

  “I’ll take those.” She motioned to the armful of clothing he’d gathered, but he shook his head.

  “You can barely hold what you’ve got. I’ll carry them up for you. It was my fault anyway.”

  Since she really couldn’t hold anymore, Grace turned around and headed back up the stairs. “I shouldn’t have left the bags on the stairs…”

  “No, you shouldn’t have, huh?”

  She paused and turned to glare at him. “But my daughter was trying to escape over the child gate so I dropped them and ran.”

  “Your daughter?”

  Did she imagine the tension mixed with the curiosity in his voice? “Yeah. She’s three.”

  The light from her living room spilled out through the open door just as cold air rushed in. Grace stepped across the doorway and dropped the clothes down on the couch. She’d rented a furnished apartment because she couldn’t afford to buy much, but she had big plans to clean everything thoroughly. Putting her clean clothes down on the couch wasn’t ideal. Of course, they had just been strung all over the concrete steps.

  “Uh…” Sam hovered in the doorway, clearly unsure whether or not he should follow her in.

  “Come on in. It’s cold in here, but no colder than outside.”

  As Sam stepped over the child gate, looking around the pile of clothes in his arms to see what he was doing, Grace moved closer to take the clothes from him. In the process of exchanging them, Sam’s fingers brushed against hers. Compared with the soft cotton he held, his fingers were rough against her skin—calloused working-man’s hands. She was so caught off guard by the unexpected contact that she dropped some of the clothes on the floor.

  “Sorry,” Sam said, bending to pick them up.

  Grace turned to drop her load on the couch. Sam came up behind her and tossed the few items he’d picked up. A pair of jeans, a hoodie, and a bra. Grace stared at it mortified. But she was a grown woman. A mother. A strong, independent adult, and there was no reason to feel embarrassed about this. “Thank you,” she said. Too bad her voice didn’t sound as calm as she’d hoped it would.

  Movement caught her eyes, and she looked down at Bella, still bundled up in her puffy pink coat and unicorn beanie. Bella stared up at Sam with wide eyes. Grace realized that from her vantage point on the floor, Sam must seem like a giant. Scooping her up, Grace said, “Bella, this is Sam. He is…was…” Oh heavens. “Is a friend of mine.” Like Bella would even care what she labeled him. But she knew Sam would.

  Sam smiled. “Hi, Bella. Nice to meet you.”

  Bella eyed him solemnly and laid
her head down on Grace’s shoulder. “She’s a little shy,” Grace said.

  “Unlike her mother, then, huh. She must take after her dad.” Sam glanced around the room, clearly looking for Bella’s father figure.

  “Let’s pray she’s not. But then, you know Derek.”

  Sam’s expression hardened, and his jaw clenched. “So, you married him, huh?”

  Grace hated having to stand here in front of Sam, exposed and broken, forced to admit that he’d been right all along. “And divorced him. A year ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. His eyes were concerned when he had every right to be smug. “That must have been tough.”

  “Yeah.” Except that there was no past tense about it. It was tough every single day. Oh, not because she wanted anything to do with Derek, but because of where her choice had led her. There was nothing scarier, or more overwhelming, than being a single mom on the brink of poverty.

  “Can I help you carry anything else in?”

  The offer took her by surprise. “No, thanks. I’ve caused you enough trouble tonight.”

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’m not busy. And you probably want to get your door shut so you can get this place warmed up.” Grace was on the point of refusing, and he must have seen it in her eyes. “Come on. We are friends, remember?”

  Yes, she remembered. Once there had been bike rides and dance-offs and lazy summers at the lake. Until she’d chosen someone else. And now, with unsympathetic irony, life had chosen to make them neighbors.

  She really could use the help though. “Okay. Thanks.”

  They went back down to the car together, but after Sam knew everything she wanted to be carried up to her apartment, he convinced her to stay in the apartment with Bella. She took the gate down and closed the front door, watching through the window to know when she needed to open it for him.