Christmas Is for Lovers: 6 Hot Holiday Romances

by Box Set

  I closed my eyes and visualized it complete. Flickering lights. Festive bulbs. Family. All necessary ingredients for a memorable holiday.

  “Where do you want the first box?” The man had a sexy-as-all-get-out voice. The kind that made you clench your thighs and need to change your underwear.

  “Bring it here. By the way, I’m Chloe Craig, but most people call me Cici. I’m sorry I was so rude earlier. You have no idea how important this job is to me. It’s been hard to get a foothold in the industry here, and this job is like getting a golden ticket.”

  “Elias, my name is Elias.” He stopped at his first name and that worked for me. The less chitchat the better.

  “Well, Elias, seeing you come through the door made my day. I wasn’t sure the service would send someone.” Something flashed across his face. I wasn’t sure what I’d seen in his eyes, but I would have sworn it was humor. “It looks like Tannenbaum Temps has done me a solid.” Maybe like me, he was happy to be employed.

  “Where do you want this?” He pushed the box across the floor until I bolted forward and threw myself on top to stop him.

  “No, you could scratch the floor. This is a multimillion-dollar home, and let me tell you, you may look like you could live here, but neither of us can afford to refinish these floors.” I circled him to look for damage. No scratches. Whew. “Rich people don’t take kindly to employees ruining their homes. If you’re going to work with me, you’re going to have to pay closer attention to our client’s belongings.”

  “Duly noted.” He groaned while he hefted the box off the floor and carried it to the window.

  “Those shoes are going to kill your feet by the end of the day.” He stared down at his leather loafers and shrugged. “If you hope to work with me again, I suggest you work hard today and think about dressing more appropriately tomorrow.” I wasn’t sure he was going to work out, but I’d be darned if I sent him home before the heavy lifting was done. Besides, he was easy on the eyes.

  I pulled a scrunchie from my pocket and twisted my hair into a high ponytail. Not the most flattering look, but one that made sense for a full day’s work. I didn’t have the time or patience to deal with my out-of-control hair. I suppose I should be grateful I’d inherited the Craig curls. I was low maintenance: just wash, toss, and go.

  While Elias left to get the next box, I thought through my plan of attack and began.

  The base to the tree fit perfectly into the space I’d chosen. I began to insert the color-coded branches into their corresponding colored slots. Elias continued to carry in boxes. I was on number two when he had carried in box five. His poor shirt was drenched in sweat. Beads of perspiration rolled down his face and dripped from his dark curls onto his collar. I was tempted to reach up and wipe his brow. The poor man looked miserable. He was obviously not used to manual labor, and I wondered why Tannenbaum sent him. I was sure I’d put heavy lifting in the job description. I couldn’t fault his work though; he was quick and didn’t complain.

  “On the front seat of my SUV is a cooler with a variety of drinks from water to soda. Help yourself.” I turned around and went back to placing branches into their slots. He walked toward the door, and I called to him, “After you get a drink, bring in the ladder. We’ll need it to assemble the rest of the tree.”

  He lugged in the ladder and set it up next to the tree. I loved that I didn’t have to tell him what to do. I’d worked with some clueless people, and often it took more time to explain than to do the job myself. Today was looking up. It was a bit rocky at first. Just goes to show you, you shouldn’t judge a person by their Italian loafers.

  “What does a tree this size cost?” He pulled a branch from the box and looked for its color-coordinated slot.

  “These run anywhere from twenty-five hundred up to the tens of thousands. I was able to get this one for just under three grand with it being so late in the season. I used my designer’s discount and got an extra ten percent off.” I tugged the next section out of the box and climbed the ladder to slide it into the existing pole. The tree was well over seven feet at this point but we still had nine feet to go.

  “So will you charge your client the original amount and pocket the rest? That would seem the prudent thing to do.” He stood by the ladder and steadied it as if he were afraid I’d fall. Hell, I’d spent half my life on ladders.

  “No way. I always pass on the discount to my client. The ten percent is nothing, but a follow-up job is everything. Hand me the red-coded branches.”

  He began to hand them to me one by one. Thankfully, his sweaty face had dried, and the red had left his neck. The last thing I needed was pretty boy to get overheated and need medical attention.

  “What do you do for a living, Elias? You’re doing a fine job, but this obviously isn’t in your lane.” I pulled the branch from his hand and giggled at his look of surprise.

  “I’m not sure if I should be pleased or offended.”

  “Don’t be offended. Look at your hands. There isn’t a callous anywhere, and you have fingernails prettier than mine. I should be offended.” I shoved another branch into the center pole. We were making quick work of the tree.

  “I can’t lie to you. I’m more an office worker than a manual labor kind of guy, but I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty.”

  “I got that impression.” I brushed the sweat off my forehead and wiped my hand on my jeans. I always dressed clean but casual for my job. Today was no different. The polo shirt I wore had Craig Designs above the left breast. It felt good to represent myself rather than Ryan Westland Design Company.

  For the next hour we worked side by side, assembling branch after branch. I placed the perfectly pointed pine branch on top. The way it filled the space was perfect. Mr. Cole had a good eye for measurements, as it was the exact height needed for the room. He’d said the ceilings were about twenty feet high, and he was spot on.

  “What do you think?” I stood back and admired our work. It looked great now, but once it was decorated, it would be breathtaking.

  “It’s all right.” He shrugged his shoulders and walked to the wall of windows. He was obviously not a man who appreciated the holidays.

  “This is going to come out great. I’m glad the owner isn’t present. I hate it when they’re around. It slows down the process. Normally, I wouldn’t take on a house sight unseen, but the poor man sounded desperate, and I was equally desperate for a job.”

  He’d said he was out of town and his girlfriend had dropped the ball. The phone connection had been bad, but we’d managed to get the details covered before we were disconnected. Since that first call we’d communicated through texting.

  “Why so desperate?” He turned to look my way. Too bad the guy was broke. He would have made good dating material. Shame I couldn’t afford to take care of both of us.

  “I had a falling out with my last company and moved to Aspen for a fresh start. This is my first job.”

  “Welcome to Aspen. Do you ski?” His question caught me by surprise. I suppose it shouldn’t have since he was looking longingly out the window at the ski run. People like us couldn’t afford to ski. We watched while others raced down the slopes.

  “I don’t think what I do can be called skiing. I imagine I’m more of a snowplower than an actual skier. You?” I began to fold down the boxes to get them out of the way. It was time for the fun to begin.

  “Love it. The lessons I took a few years back really helped my form. You should think about hiring an instructor.”

  I had no idea what he thought I made, but an instructor was out of the question this year. Every dime I earned needed to get me through the winter. I had rent to pay and food to buy, not to mention car payments to be made.

  “I’ll have to look into that. Can you start bringing in the other boxes? They’re full of lights and decorations. I figure if we can get the tree done today, we can work on wreaths and garlands tomorrow. I want to use live materials so the pine smell infuses the air. There’s no
thing like the smell of pine in winter. I’m also going to use lots of cinnamon sticks so the house smells like freshly baked goods.”

  “You’ve got this whole thing down, don’t you?” He piled the flattened boxes into his arms and carried them out the front door. Moments later he returned with two full boxes and a bottle of cold water in his back pocket. “Here, you need to stay hydrated. The altitude can really take a lot out of you. Drink up.”

  I was touched by his consideration, and gladly took the water, gulping down half of it. I was so intent on getting the tree up, I hadn’t considered thirst or dehydration.

  We took a short break to eat lunch. I happily shared the couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I’d brought with me. He’d come unprepared.

  The rest of the job was like opening boxes on Christmas morning. I loved the holidays, and decorating the Christmas tree was always my favorite activity. I usually had a six-footer. Imagine the fun I was going to have with sixteen feet.

  Elias looked less than enthused. “Don’t you enjoy decorating a tree?” I plugged in the lights and watched them twinkle to life. This tree’s stationary and blinking lights would keep it in perpetual illumination.

  “I just don’t see the point. You spend a ton of time putting something up that you’ll just tear down and destroy in a week or so. It seems like a waste of time and resources, but it’s important to some people. I get that, so I go with the flow.”

  “Well, get with the flow and start placing the decorative picks in between the branches. We have garland and ribbon to hang before we get to the bulbs. I think we have a thousand of them to place before we get to the candy canes. Mr. Cole didn’t tell me whether there were children or not, but young or old, a tree isn’t a tree without peppermint treats.”

  “I like peppermint.” He moved to the opposite side of the tree and began to place the picks.

  We spent the next couple hours working from the top of the tree to the bottom. Elias was slow to catch on, but once he did, he seemed to get into the spirit. I played Christmas music from my iPhone, and we hung the tree jewelry to songs like “Deck the Halls” and “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.”

  I explained the symbolism of the Christmas tree, and he sounded surprised when I told him the evergreen symbolized undying life. Christmas was about hope and love. Add in everything else like stars and balls, bows and candy canes, and you had an extravaganza of delight.

  “Do we have a star?” Did I hear a hint of excitement in his voice?

  “Of course we have a star.” I pulled out an ornate topper made from pearlized glass. Lit from the inside, it would throw off prisms of light that would shine across the wooden ceiling. The star was a foot tall and would take the height of our masterpiece to seventeen feet.

  I offered the star to Elias. He gave me a strange look and shook his head. I pushed the star into his hand and told him to get his ass up the ladder and place the crowning glory on the tree. From his horrified expression, you would have thought I’d handed him a scalpel and told him to perform a triple bypass.

  He climbed the ladder slowly. “I don’t like heights.” His knees wobbled, and his face paled.

  I climbed behind him and held on to his shaking calves. Man, he had muscular legs. “You’ll go on a ski lift, but you won’t climb a ladder?” I wanted to run my hands all the way up his thighs and squeeze the cheeks I knew would be firm under my grasp, but I didn’t dare. He was a day hire, and I was his boss.

  “I don’t look down, and there’s a payoff when skiing. Nothing good comes with ladders.” He reached up and slid the star over the center. “Why are you so comfortable with heights?” He fumbled with the cord, and I felt his whole body shake while he reached farther to push the plug into the waiting socket attached to the tree.

  “My dad’s a painter, and I spent my childhood helping him. I grew up on a ladder.” Just then, the star lit up, and light shot out from each point, spilling across the room. Breathtaking. Given the bright smile on his face, even Elias seemed to be feeling happy.

  We’d put in a good day’s work, and I invited Elias to come back tomorrow. He was a hard worker and was open to suggestion. That went a long way with me, but when I asked him to come back he busted into thunderous laughter and told me he would be here. No wonder he was unemployed, he was weird.

  He folded the ladder and walked it to my trailer. When he returned, I was sitting on the sofa in a room lit only by the Christmas tree. Stunning. I’d never seen one as beautiful. I knew I could do a good job, but I had no idea how amazing seventeen feet of glass balls, satin ribbon, and peppermint candy could look. I only hoped Christmas joy might reach Elias too. Shame I couldn’t help with that.

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  About the Author

  Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she is inspired by real-time events mixed with a dose of fiction. She encourages her readers to reach the happily ever after but bask in the afterglow of the perfectly imperfect love.

  Kelly lives in Colorado at the base of the Rocky Mountains with her husband of twenty-five years, their two dogs, and a bird that hates her.

  In her spare time, she enjoys walking the trails and visiting the mining towns like Cripple Creek. She likes to think it's the ambience that brings her there and not the amazing slot machine in the back of the casino.

  In the winter, you'll find her tucked into her seat at The World Arena cheering her beloved Colorado College Tigers Hockey Team. After several losing seasons she knows there's a win coming soon. Kelly is no fair weather fan.

  She has three amazing children, and she wonders how they all turned out to be engineers when only the creative side of her brain seems to work. She just chalks it up to the engineering genes her husband contributed to the mix.

  Creative minds need an outlet and writing books is where she focuses her excess energy.

  You can reach me here.

  @kcollinsauthor

  authorkelleycollins

  www.authorkellycollins.com

  kelly@authokellycollins.com

  Also by Kelly Collins

  The Dean’s List

  Set Free

  Just Dessert

  Candy Kane Kisses

  Sharon Coady

  Published by Sharon Coady

  Front Cover Design: Chantel Rhondeau

  Copyright 2016, Author Sharon Coady

  First Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please send me an e-mail to the e-mail address listed below, subject line “Attention: Permissions Coordinator.”

  s.r.coadyauthor@gmail.com

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, names, events, and places in this novel are used fictitiously or are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead or to actual places, businesses, or real-life events, is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  I’ll be home for Christmas

  “What do you mean you can’t come home for Christmas, Sam?” Holly looked out her kitchen window feeling as desolate as the leafless trees looked. “You spent Christmas with Jane’s family last year.” Holly paused, listening to the excuse Sam gave her. “I’m not whining! Is it too much for me to expect you’d want to spend it with me this year?” Tears spilled down her face. “Just do what you have to do. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up the phone and dialed her daughter’s number.

  “Suzy, its Mom. How is everyone?” Walking to the coffee pot, she poured herself a fresh cup and added just a splash of cream as Suzy commented on all the big happenings in her family. “Good. Did Allen get the new jo
b?” Spooning a little sugar into the cup, she stirred it before tapping the spoon on the side and laying it in her saucer. “What? So you’re not coming, either? No, I understand.” In reality, Holly was starting to feel depressed. “Look, I have to go honey. I’m running late.” Hanging up the phone, she sat down at her modest oak table by the bay window and sighed.

  “You’d think the kids would want to be here with me. It’s only the second Christmas since Dan died.” She patted Hurley’s head. The big yellow lab sat looking at her with sad eyes. “I know you miss him too, don’t you boy?”

  Hurley thumped his tail on the tile floor.

  Holly glanced over at the paper she had tossed on the table earlier. The paper Dan had read every morning. The one she still hadn’t cancelled, let alone read. Once they stacked up, she’d take them to the recycle bin. Tugging the paper apart, she saw a section about travel. Sliding it towards her, she started reading. Most of the ads were for taking a cruise.

  “No thanks, no boats and crowds of people for me.” She tossed the paper aside and opened her laptop.

  Hurley sat at her feet watching her intently, ears forward, his head cocked and listening to her talk.

  “What’s this?” She leaned over the laptop reading out loud to him. “Beautiful Colorado working cattle ranch offering an unusual winter getaway. Come stay in one of the area’s most beautiful log homes for the Christmas holiday. There are a limited number of rooms available for this unique offer.” She looked at her beloved pet and mused aloud. “What do you think, boy?”

  Hurley barked once.

  “Me too. I’ve always wanted to see the West.” Holly hurried to her junk drawer and rustled through it until she found a pen. Grabbing her writing pad and telephone before walking back to the kitchen table, she dialed the number listed on the site. She said a silent prayer that they would still have a room available in one of the cabins.