by Debbie Mason
Looking back, which she’d done every day since that bitterly cold night last November, she realized where she’d gone wrong. She’d let Superman into her life. She should’ve known that someone who named himself after a comic-book hero would turn into an overprotective nut job. In her defense, until that story, he’d fed her information she never would’ve gotten on her own. And over the months they’d spent texting each other on a daily basis, she’d found herself thinking about him all the time.
It was embarrassing to admit, even to herself, but she’d been crushing on Superman, fantasizing about becoming his Lois Lane. Which was ridiculous. She had no idea what he looked like. She hadn’t even spoken to the man. The only thing she knew for certain was that in his misguided attempt to protect her, Vivi’s sources had dried up overnight. And that’s when her story had gone sideways. But Vivi was no quitter, and she’d tracked down the woman in protective custody to get the goods. Lesson learned: bad guys don’t quit, either.
The NYPD hadn’t been happy… Okay, that was an understatement. She was lucky they hadn’t thrown her in jail and sued the newspaper for her interference in an ongoing criminal investigation. Luck didn’t actually have much to do with it. The credit went to the Spectator’s legal team. They weren’t able to save her from a demotion, though. She was put on a six-month probation the same day ninety-year-old Hilda Branch, aka Dear Hilda, died in her sleep. Vivi’d sat across from the Spectator’s editor in chief, staring at him in stomach-twisting horror as he gave her her new assignment.
Everyone, other than the editor in chief, obviously, knew that Vivi was the least qualified person for the job. And it wasn’t because she’d never been dumped before. Of course she had; she was thirty, for God’s sake. What thirty-year-old hadn’t been dumped, had a couple of those he’s-just-not-into-you revelations that broke your heart? No, the reason Vivi wasn’t suited for the job was because she was the most unsympathetic person north of Wall Street. And that was why, once she’d recovered, she didn’t yell and she didn’t argue. She smiled and graciously accepted the position. With her in-your-face attitude, she figured her stint as Dear Vivi would last… about a day.
But people obviously enjoyed having their butts kicked, because her column had been an overnight sensation. Which was why Dear Vivi’s responses of late had gone from butt kicking to a light tap on the behind. She had no intention of being an advice columnist for forty years like Hilda Branch. One way or another, when her probation was up a month from now, Vivi was getting her old job back.
As the line in front of her moved forward as slowly as the lineup at Bagel Bagel on a Saturday morning, Skye’s assigned ringtone jingled from Vivi’s carry-on. She’d been expecting her call. Their mutual best friend Maddie McBride had already checked in with Vivi on the cab ride to the airport. The three of them had been friends since their first day of college. They were each an only child—technically that wasn’t true in Vivi’s case, but it’s how she thought of herself—and had become the sisters they never had.
In the past eighteen months, Vivi’s “sisters” had abandoned her. They’d moved from New York City to Christmas, Colorado. Maddie and Skye said they fell in love with the small mountain town. Vivi knew better; they fell in love with the town’s most eligible bachelors. They’d found their “one and only.” Vivi no longer believed in a “one and only,” but even she had to admit, if there was such a thing, that Skye and Maddie had found theirs. And if Vivi didn’t like Gage McBride and Ethan O’Connor, she’d be pretty ticked Christmas’s favorite sons had stolen her best friends.
She missed them. New York wasn’t the same without them. But that didn’t mean she’d move to Christmas like Skye and Maddie wanted her to. Vivi didn’t do the great outdoors. Give her concrete, skyscrapers, Bagel Bagel, and Roasters Coffee down the street any day.
“Where are you?” Skye asked the moment Vivi put the phone to her ear.
Vivi sighed. Skye and Maddie expected her to bail at the last minute. And she knew the reason why: Chance McBride. Vivi did her best to avoid the town of Christmas when there was a possibility he’d be around. Since his father was getting married next week, the probability Chance would be there was high. Then again, he’d only been home once in the last five years. “Security line at the airport.”
“Vivi! Your flight leaves in twenty minutes.”
Glancing at her phone and the ticket in her hand, Vivi grimaced. She probably shouldn’t have cut it so close. “Relax, I’ll make it.”
“Don’t tell me, you were working on your column and time got away from you. You’re a workaholic, Vivi,” Skye said in an exasperated tone of voice, then added, “The week away will do you good. You can relax for a change.”
Sometimes it was annoying how well Skye knew her. Only, Vivi hadn’t been working on her column; she could dial those in. She’d been checking out a couple leads for a story. One that’d knock her editor’s socks off and get Vivi back on the job.
She returned her attention to Skye. “Relaxing? I thought you guys said you needed me there to help with the wedding. ‘Vivi, Maddie and me are going to have nervous breakdowns if you don’t come. We can’t do this on our own. We’re new mothers,’ ” she said, grinning as she imitated Skye’s voice from last week.
“Hey, I did not sound whiny and hysterical.”
“Yeah, you kinda did. But don’t worry, I’m riding to the rescue in my big, white bird.” Ten members of a seniors bowling team shuffled forward. “I gotta take off my boots. See you soon.”
“Okay, but don’t, you know, tick off security. We really do need you here. Nell’s driving us insane,” Skye said, referring to Nell McBride, who looked like a sweet little old lady if you ignored the flaming red streak in her white hair. And no one should ignore that devil-red streak. The older woman was the biggest shit-disturber Vivi had ever met.
And Vivi knew this because eighteen months ago, she and Maddie had gotten caught up in one of Nell’s schemes. In the end it’d worked out well for Maddie. For Vivi, not so much. She was still trying to recover. It was why she’d agreed to go to Christmas in the first place. Like Heartbroken, Vivi had a man who’d taken up too much space in her heart and head. Chance McBride.
Vivi was about to respond when Skye said in a voice tinged with nerves, “Um, speaking of Nell. This was all her idea, okay? So don’t get mad at me and Maddie. We had nothing to do with it. N-O-T-H-I-N-G.”
Vivi froze, balancing on one foot as she took off her rubber boot. “What was Nell’s idea?”
“Gotta go. Evie’s crying,” Skye said, referring to her five-month-old daughter.
“Skye! Skye, don’t you dare hang…” Vivi broke off at the sound of buzzing in her ear. “Dammit, dammit, dammit,” she muttered at the same time the bald, mustached man in uniform waved her over.
And since Vivi was in a ticked-off, panicked mood, she managed to tick off the security guards. By the time they got through with her, she was late for her flight. Her carry-on banged against her hip as she raced to her gate, and she accidently bumped into several people, ensuring she’d now ticked off half the airport. Breathless by the time she reached the woman standing behind the desk in front of her gate, Vivi waved her boarding pass, panting, “That’s my flight.”
It was while she watched the woman scan the nonrefundable one-way ticket Skye had sent her that Vivi realized what Nell was up to. She’d decided to help Maddie and Skye in their bid to keep Vivi in Christmas. Vivi almost laughed in relief. She’d been worried Nell’s current scheme had something to do with…
“It’s your lucky day,” the woman said, handing Vivi back the boarding pass with a smile. “There was a problem closing the cargo bay door. The plane was delayed.”
Vivi was a white-knuckled flier, and a malfunctioning door didn’t sound lucky to her at all. “Are they changing planes?” she asked. Vivi had no problem writing about aircraft falling from the sky and people getting sucked out of them, she just had no intention of being one of them.
“Okay. Thanks,” Vivi said, even as near-miss, landing, and taking-off accident statistics popped into her head.
She ran down the blue-carpeted corridor, a blast of hot, muggy air slamming into her. The thunderstorm earlier hadn’t cleared out the mid-May heat wave that’d been hovering over New York for the last three days. At least that was one good thing about heading to Colorado: she’d be able to breathe.
When the flight attendant showed Vivi to her first-class aisle seat, she stopped breathing altogether. A long-legged, broad-shouldered man slouched in the window seat, a champagne-colored Stetson covering his face. Every time she saw a tall, well-built man wearing a Stetson, she’d had the same reaction.
This was worse.
This was painful.
Because this man’s scuffed, rust-colored cowboy boots looked the same as the ones that had spent a week under her bed. So did the well-worn jeans that encased thighs that appeared to be as hard as the ones she’d run her bare foot along. She recognized the black T-shirt with the Rocky Mountain logo that hugged his wide chest. A chest she’d kissed her way up and kissed her way down. Broad shoulders that she’d clung to. Muscular, tanned arms that had wrapped around her, and large hands that could easily crush a man but had caressed her gently and, at one time she’d misguidedly thought, lovingly.
At the flight attendant’s impatient sigh, Vivi dragged her gaze away. “I, ah, is there another seat available? I don’t like to be in first class. Too close to the front of the plane.” The woman’s black-penciled eyebrows snapped together when Vivi continued, her voice barely a whisper, “In the event of a crash, it’s forty percent safer to be at the back.” Safer for her. She needed time to prepare herself for the sight of his too-gorgeous face. She remembered that face, remembered kissing that face, falling head over heels in love with that face. And those amazing grass-green eyes of his wouldn’t miss her reaction to seeing him for the first time in eighteen months. They’d never missed anything.
He’d know.
He’d know he’d broken her heart.
At least that was one positive thing that had come out of writing an advice column. Vivi had learned what she had to do to move on with her own life. She needed to prove to Chance as much as to herself that she was over him. That he hadn’t ruined her for any other man. Vivi’s reaction to her comic-book hero had given her hope that that was the case. She’d thought all those soft, romantic feelings had shriveled up inside her until Superman had come into her life. It didn’t matter that he was no longer in it. Everyone needed a rebound guy, and Superman had been hers.
She just hoped moving on from Chance would be as easy as moving on from Superman. Since he’d dumped her, Vivi had rehearsed her first face-to-face with Chance a million times. She knew exactly what she was going to say and how she was going to act. She’d even planned out what she was going to wear. Which was so not Vivi. She was a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of girl. But she’d packed an outfit that oozed cool sophistication. It sure as hell wasn’t the camo rubber boots, black leggings, and seen-better-days, off-the-shoulder green T-shirt she currently had on. And a brief encounter with Chance on Main Street was not the same as being trapped beside him on the four-hour flight to Denver. Vivi’s chest constricted. Good God, she felt like she was having a panic attack. And the stewardess’s tight smile and negative head shake was so not what she needed to see right now.
Maybe the woman at the gate was right and it was Vivi’s lucky day. Maybe this guy who leaked testosterone from his pores wasn’t Chance McBride after all. Her gaze went to the man’s overlong, copper-streaked blond hair. No, it was not her lucky day. It was the second-worst day of her life. The worst day had been when she’d woken up to a note on her pillow. And the words Take care, Slick in Chance’s bold, masculine handwriting.
* * *
Chance McBride kept his body relaxed even though everything inside of him tightened in response to that raspy bedroom voice. He didn’t need to see her to know who it was. That voice was imprinted on his brain. He heard it in his sleep. It’d made him want things he couldn’t have. Made him forget things he had no business forgetting. It’s why he left her without saying good-bye. He’d never met anyone like Vivi Westfield. He’d known he was in trouble the first time he’d laid eyes on her.
A hollow ache filled his chest at the memory of the days and nights they’d spent together. Her gorgeous, toned legs wrapped around him, his mouth at her lush, pink-tipped breast while his hands kneaded her amazing ass. Her long, chocolate-brown hair spread across the pillow as soft, sexy sounds escaped from her parted lips. Full, sensuous lips he could spend a lifetime fantasizing about. But it was her eyes, incredible eyes the color of pansies, that did him in. And those eyes were the reason he’d left her. The emotion that had turned them from violet to black.
She’d fallen in love with him. A man who had no love left to give. The death of his wife, Kate, and their unborn child had seen to that. If he’d met Vivi before Kate—before losing her and their baby in the accident—it would’ve taken an army to drag him away from her. But he wasn’t that man, and he’d walked away from her without a backward glance. Didn’t mean he didn’t think about her, keep tabs on her. He might not be able to give her the love she wanted and deserved, but she’d damned well needed his protection.
She was a hothead. She had no fear. She was driven, ambitious, going after a story with no regard for her personal safety. She’d nearly gotten herself killed a few months back. He’d done what he could, but she’d shut him down as quickly as he’d cut off her sources. She’d given the slip to the tail he’d put on her that night in December. If he hadn’t been on another job halfway across the country, he would’ve protected her himself. Done everything he could to keep her out of harm’s way. At least he hadn’t had to worry about her the last few months.
Thinking of her as Dear Vivi, his mouth twitched. He doubted she found the demotion amusing. And if she ever discovered who he was, she’d go ballistic. Her girls, Maddie and Skye, they knew. Obviously they hadn’t shared he was Superman or Vivi’d be straddling him right now, her hands at his throat. He needed to get that visual out of his head and shifted uncomfortably in the seat.
Fucking Nell. He should’ve known his great-aunt was up to no good when she sent him the nonrefundable one-way first class ticket. Nell always had an agenda. Like the one that’d put Vivi on Chance’s radar. He worked for a multinational security company and had been on a job in New York when Nell tagged him to investigate Maddie. A job that took him all of ten minutes. The rest of the time he’d spent with Vivi.
He’d assumed the plane ticket was Nell’s way of ensuring he was there for his dad’s wedding. She’d know it was the last place he wanted to be. And if Chance didn’t know it’d break his father’s heart if he was a no-show, Nell’s nonrefundable ticket wouldn’t have been enough to sway him. He’d only been home once since Kate’s funeral. It’d been tough being there. Tougher than he’d admit to anyone. Now with Vivi in town and his great-aunt in matchmaking mode, it would be worse.
He mentally prepared himself, then pushed up the brim of his Stetson with a finger and forced a lazy, amused tone to his voice. “Hey, Slick. Long time no see.”
ALSO BY DEBBIE MASON
The Trouble with Christmas
Christmas in July
Acclaim for
The Trouble with Christmas
“A fun and festive tale, flush with small-town warmth and tongue-in-cheek charm. The main characters are well worth rooting for, their conflicts solid and riveting.”
—USA Today’s Happy Ever After blog
“4 Stars! This is a wonderful story to read this holiday season, and the romance is timeless… This is one of those novels readers will enjoy each and every page of and tell friends about.”
—RT Book Reviews
“The lovers are symp
athetic and well drawn… Mason will please fans of zippy small-town stories.”
—Publishers Weekly
“I’m very impressed by [Mason’s] character development, sense of humor, and plotting… Ms. Mason wraps this book up as if it were a very prettily wrapped package. Why not open the pages and have a Christmas present early?”
—LongandShortReviews.com
“Debbie Mason has created a humorous, heartwarming tale that tugged at my heartstrings while tickling my funny bone… a community that I enjoyed visiting and hope to visit again.”
—TheRomanceDish.com
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It’s a recipe for temptation: Mix a cool-as-a-cucumber event planner with a devastatingly handsome Irish pastry chef. Add sexual chemistry hot enough to start a fire. Let the sparks fly. Fans of Jill Shalvis will flip for the second book in Kate Meader’s Hot in the Kitchen series.
MOONLIGHT RAIDER
USA Today bestselling author Amanda Scott brings to life the history, turmoil, and passion of the Scottish Border as only she can in the first book in her new Border Nights series. Fans of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander will be swept away by Scott’s tale!
