Christmas Kisses & Mistletoe Wishes: A Holiday Romance Boxset (Duet)

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Christmas Kisses & Mistletoe Wishes: A Holiday Romance Boxset (Duet) Page 1

by Kate Kisset




  Christmas Kisses

  &

  Mistletoe Wishes

  Boxed Set

  Including the books:

  Kissing Mr. Mistletoe

  and

  One Wish

  By Kate Kisset

  This book is a work of fiction. References to wines, products, real people, events, establishments, wineries, organizations or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Kissing Mr. Mistletoe

  Copyright © 2016 by Kate Kisset.

  One Wish (Some chapters previously published as St. Helena Santa Kindle Worlds Book) Copyright © 2017 by Kate Kisset. All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored without the express written permission of Kate Kisset.

  Christmas Kisses and Mistletoe Kisses

  FIRST EDITION

  EPUB EDITION NOVEMBER 2019

  More books from Kate Kisset:

  Love in the Vineyards:

  Love at Last- Love in The Vineyards Book #1

  Love’s Home Run- Love in the Vineyards #2

  Kissing Luca- (Mini Prequel)- Love’s Home Run

  And I Love You- Love in the Vineyards #3

  Love is a Wildfire- Love in the Vineyards #4

  Love in the Vineyards (Companion books)

  One Wish

  Two to Tango – Jake Martelli

  Kissing Mr. Mistletoe- Christmas in Napa

  Lonesome Cowboy:

  Heartbreaker

  Love Maker

  Dream Maker

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  Grab it here!

  Table of Contents

  Kissing Mr. Mistletoe Synopsis

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Christmas Day

  One Wish Synopsis

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Two to Tango (Sneak Peek)

  Playlist and Story Notes for One Wish

  Also by Kate Kisset

  About Kate Kisset

  Kate Kisset on the Web

  Kissing Mr. Mistletoe Synopsis

  From USA Today Bestselling author Kate Kisset comes a sexy, heartwarming, second chance holiday romance.

  Ever since his last remaining relative died, country music star Trace Montgomery has avoided California, specifically his home town of Napa Valley. Trace can’t stand the memories.

  But seven days before the holiday, he’s forced to return to wine country to sell the St. Helena Christmas tree farm he inherited from his uncle. With his sidekick guitar Lola nearby, a past love falls into his arms while trying to turn a vineyard bunny sculpture into a reindeer. Now Trace can't stop thinking about her. He's making up naughty lyrics to Christmas songs.

  Single mom, Monique Jacobson doesn’t have time for a bath, never mind a romance. She’s working hard to secure a promotion and pay raise from Santino Winery that will allow her and her daughter to move out of Nana’s little B&B.

  St. Helena and Napa Valley hotels are booked for the holiday, and Monique finds Trace holed up with her and her daughter at her gran's Napa B&B for a Christmas in wine country. Will they rediscover the love they lost and rekindle Christmas magic under the mistletoe?

  Chapter One

  Monique Jacobson climbed another step above the rows of Santino cabernet vineyards. She reached out as far as she could without losing grip of the ladder. Stretching another half inch, her fingertips almost touched Bunny Fru Fru’s gleaming metal nose. Frustrated, she loudly exhaled a breath of air.

  After allowing only thirty-five minutes of her packed schedule to turn the massive bunny sculpture into Rudolf for the party, Monique spent fifteen minutes she didn’t have finding a ladder. Then, she’d used another twenty finding someone to help her drag the clunky sixteen-footer to the vineyard and situate it under the landmark. Panic started to set in. The annual Santino Winery holiday party that Monique was in charge of for the first time started in six hours.

  “Is he ever going to turn into Rudolf, Mommy?” Adele’s voice chirped from below. With her pink cheeks glowing and surrounded by grapevines shimmering in the sun, her daughter looked like a wine country cherub. “Of course he will. Bunny Fru Fru always turns into Rudolf at Christmas. We can do anything we set our minds to, baby. Just you watch.”

  Spotting the red plastic nose parked in a pile of brown grape leaves at the base of a vine behind Adele, Monique turned away, cursing herself under her breath. Why didn’t she take the schnozzle with her up the ladder?

  “See it honey?” Hanging on to the ladder tight enough to lose circulation in her left hand, she cautiously lifted her right, and pointed to the shiny red object. It looked like a deflated soccer ball. “It's behind you.”

  Adele scrunched her nose and circled. Perusing around her feet, she then lifted her head. Her eyes became huge and she took off running. “I see it.”

  “Good job.” Monique encouraged her without daring to change her grip. “Now hold on to it, and come closer.”

  Adele sucked in a deep breath, appearing to gather enough steam to make a beeline to the ladder. Monique yelled, “No running. Don’t come too close sweetheart.”

  Standing still and clutching her prize, Adele craned her neck all the way back and squinted. “How many giant steps should I take?”

  “Five, honey.” Monique held on to the ladder. “I think five big-girl steps will do it.”

  Adele lifted her right leg and dramatically plunked it down on the dirt two feet in front of her and then brought her left leg up. “One,” she announced, touching down and repeating the process. “Two!”

  Monique hadn’t intended to take Adele to work with her, but had forgotten all about the preschool teacher holiday she’d circled on her calendar months ago. With her favorite sitter booked, she wasn’t about to leave Adele with anyone she hadn’t thoroughly investigated. Thankfully her idea of turning a day of decorating the winery into a holiday outing with Adele seemed to be working.

  “Three!” Adele shrieked.

  A loud sputtering engine and blaring music caused Monique to turn in time to see the Napa Pines and Wines jalopy come down the driveway. From the elevated vantage point, she saw the tree she needed for the tasting room in the bed of the truck. Heaving a sigh of relief, she rotated back to Adele.

  “Four, Mommy! I’m getting close. . .” Adele took another step. “Five!”

  “Perfect honey. Now stay right where you are and remember to never, ever, climb a ladder like this without my help.”

  “And Daddy's?” Adele asked, cradling the red nose.

  Her heart sank, knowing her former husband Jarod would never help his daughter with a ladder or
anything else. Why must Adele always ask about that deadbeat? Time after time Monique covered for Jarod’s negligence, hating to see Adele’s hopes smashed. They always were. Jarod never showed up, kept any of his promises, or followed through with anything except getting her pregnant. The privilege and joy of being Adele’s mother made up for all of her disappointment, but it didn’t ease any of her daughter’s pain.

  “Yes, and Daddy’s help too.” Monique’s stomach roiled looking at Adele’s innocent expression. Maybe this year, he’d finally see her for Christmas.

  “Do you think you can throw Rudolf’s nose up to me so we can turn this bunny into a reindeer?” Monique carefully let go of the ladder with her right hand and leaned, stretching it out to Adele. “Throw it now, honey.” She held her breath.

  Adele didn’t wait for further instruction and hurled the plastic nose into the air. Spinning, the snout missed Monique’s outstretched hand and continued its path of projection several feet over her head and to the right.

  Rudolf’s schnozzle caught the light and sparkling in the sun, made its descent. Monique shifted her weight to grab it. Almost there. She reached up and over feeling the ladder sway and rock beneath her.

  “Mommy!”

  Quickly seizing her perch with both hands, the sole of her boot slipped sideways on the metal step. Instead of regaining her balance, Monique skidded down one rung, and then another with her left foot and then another and another, until she found herself rappelling backward down the ladder, desperately grappling to hang on to whatever she could and praying for a soft landing.

  “Mommy!”

  She missed the last step and hit the ground, landing flat on her back.

  “Oh no!” Adele scampered to her and laid her soft chubby hands on Monique’s cheeks. Snuggling close, her sweet breath touched her skin. Adele inspected her eyes from an inch away. “Are you hurt bad?”

  “I’m okay, baby.” Reaching behind her back, Monique found the rock digging into her spine. She plucked it out of the dirt and flung it.

  “You shouldn’t be climbing on top of something you can’t handle.”

  Every cell of Monique’s body froze. Her heart paused mid-thump. The familiar drawl of the deep, sexy, voice coming from above propelled her back in time at warp speed to six years ago. But it couldn’t be him. Not in a million years. She wrapped one arm tightly around Adele, and shielding her eyes from the glare with the other, looked up. Shit.

  Trace Montgomery towered over her. He folded his arms over his chest making his smooth, muscled biceps bulge under his navy T-shirt. Wearing jeans that fit him as precisely as a fireman carries a hose, and with his swagger apparently still intact, he leaned back on the heel of his boot and tilted his face, rubbing his jaw. His unmistakable green eyes sparkled down at her.

  “W-what are you doing here?”

  “You’re hardly in a position to be asking questions.” Trace reached with a powerful hand and lifted her and Adele to their feet.

  After removing a twig wedged between her legs and butt cheek, Monique attempted to get her bearings. Her brain stuttered, stopped and skipped over the right words to say. Her libido, however, operated flawlessly. Tingles charged from her neck to her toes and she broke into a sweat. Steadying her gaze on his preposterously handsome face, a result of mixed genetic magic, her heart beat out of her chest. Trace opened his arms for a hug. Before she could think, he wrapped them around her and squeezed, smelling like—well, smelling like Trace, a combination of clean, fresh and help me now, Jesus.

  Releasing her from the embrace, he took hold of her hands, and gently swung them. “My God, it’s good to see you again, Monique.”

  “W-what—I thought you were on the road—with your band?” Suddenly remembering Adele, Monique pulled her close to her hip.

  A dimple flashed next to his devilish grin as Trace reached for her face. The world skidded into slow-motion. Monique held her breath, watching his bicep flex and his hand move closer and closer to her ear. “So you’ve been checking up on me? Brushing her skin with his fingers, he pulled a crispy grape leaf out of her hair and then stepped back. “I’m flattered.”

  “I asked Joe Rozzi at the Christmas tree farm how you were doing when I ordered the tree.” Monique winced. She inquired about Trace whenever she had the opportunity but didn’t necessarily want him to be aware of her snooping. “I’m not one of your crazy fans—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She could find him anywhere and had DVR’ed his Kimmel appearance three days ago. Even though they’d only dated for six months, a man like Trace Montgomery would leave an indelible impression on any woman.

  Only three feet away from his twinkling green eyes, she averted her gaze, trying not to remember the private songs he used to sing to her, how safe she felt wrapped in his arms, or the way he tasted. . . No. Let’s not go there.

  What would her life be like now if she had joined him on tour when he’d asked? It’s all in the past. Adele came into her world and nothing else mattered.

  “Tour’s over,” he grinned, checking her out, not seeming to mind when she caught him. “Maybe we’ll have some time to get together? I’m only back for a week.” His voice sank. “I’m finally settling my uncle’s estate. Wish I had sold the place right after he died.”

  “Oh.” She should’ve called, but didn’t have the strength to not run back into his life. After the release of his number one hit, “Love me Like Crazy,” Trace should’ve been celebrating. Instead, he’d suffered more heartache than anyone she knew. Both of his parents had died in a head-on, less than a mile from here. And last year, he lost his uncle Glenn. “I’m very sorry for your loss Trace. I should’ve reached out.”

  He ran his boot over some loose dirt. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Rubbing his bottom lip, he brought his focus back to her. “You look good enough to. . .” His mouth curved up and he laid a devilish smirk on her boots. From her ankles, he eyed her legs, then his gaze traveled slowly up her thighs and paused at her hips.

  Putting a stop to his strip search by stare, Monique crossed her arms before his eyes got to her chest. Unfortunately, the move had the opposite effect and lifted her breasts out over her arms.

  His eyebrows shot to his forehead, with a question. “You look fantastic by the way.” Monique caught her mouth hanging open and clamped it shut, but couldn't stop beaming.

  Forgetting mommy duties for a second, she flipped back in time to her former flirtatious self. Caught in his snare, she blurted, “You’re looking pretty hot there yourself—cowboy.” Saying it out loud brought her back to earth. Trace wrangled women, not steers, and wondering what on earth possessed her to call him of all people hot, she wanted to take the words back. She didn’t have time for flirting. She rarely had time for a bath. Monique brushed the dirt off her butt. “I’m sorry if I’m so—I’m—Joe mentioned you were coming out to visit the farm, I just didn’t expect to see you”—she waved a hand over the vineyards—“here.”

  Smiling, Trace ran a hand through his light brown hair “I arrived a few hours ago. Didn’t expect to play Santa delivering trees, but Joe’s daughter is having a baby so I’m covering.”

  “Jessica went into labor today?”

  “Mama.” Adele tugged on her shirt. “Is he the man we saw on TV?” Trace cocked his head.

  “You were watching me, huh?”

  The last thing Trace needed was encouragement. He’d take an inch and she’d end up buck naked with her boots on the dashboard of that old Christmas tree truck. Buying time, Monique tugged on a vine and wound it around her finger, trying to think of a fib to worm her way out of being caught fawning over his recent television special. She couldn’t come up with any lie Adele wouldn’t catch her on.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met.” Trace crouched down to Adele’s eye level. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Adele Jacobson.” She jutted her hand out for a shake. “And I’m four.” He clutched her tiny fingers in his big hand.

&
nbsp; “Jacobson . . . Well, I’ll be, Trace said glancing up at Monique. Then he aimed his charm back on her daughter. “Adele Jacobson, what a lovely name, and you have your mother’s exceptional blue eyes too, don’t you? Call me Trace.”

  As he straightened, Adele craned her neck back, keeping eye contact all the way up. “We were trying to make Bunny Fru Fru—Rudolph.” Adele pouted her plump lips and pointed to the limp nose stuck between two vines, hanging on a wire.

  Trace followed the direction of her finger and casually strolled over to the cable. “This is what turns a flying rabbit into a reindeer?” After untangling the plastic snout, he waved it at Adele.

  “Uh huh.” Adele nodded. “But p-please be careful. Mommy says it’s not a toy.” Trace tossed his head back, laughing, unleashing the wide insanely wonderful smile Monique hadn’t seen in person for so long. It lit up his face and made the sun seem brighter.

  “I promise to be careful.” Standing in front of a row of yellow and red vines, Trace furrowed his brows, scrutinizing the airless ball and stuck his hand into the slit destined for the bunny’s muzzle. Hanging on to it, he ambled to the ladder.

  “No.” Monique trailed him. “We don’t need any help. We’ve got this.”

  He swiveled his neck around and shot her a smirk, then gripped the ladder and began climbing.

  “You really don’t have to do that,” she tried again.

  With his blue jeans hugging and flashing boot leather under the hem, up, up, the ladder he climbed.

  “Careful, it isn’t steady,” Monique said, grabbing Adele’s hand.

  Trace threw her a grin, but Monique barely noticed because she wasn’t eyeing his face. His butt looked stupendous up there.

  “Please don’t hurt yourself.” She held her breath. “It’s kind of”—Trace reached the top— “tricky.”

  Without another glance down, Trace leaned over, and secured the red ball onto Bunny Fru Fru’s nose. After effortlessly descending from the ladder, he tossed his hair back and with extra bluster in his step, strolled over.

 

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