Sweet Christmas Kisses 3 – 1st Chapter of THE CHRISTMAS GIFT by Raine English

SWEET CHRISTMAS KISSES 3 is a bundle of seventeen wholesome holiday romances from New York Times, USA Today, national bestselling, and award-winning authors—all members of Sweet Romance Reads.

This is our third SWEET CHRISTMAS KISSES bundle, and I’m happy to have had a story in each of them. For this one, I decided to include my favorite animal: dogs. I have two French bulldogs, Dolly and Bailey, and their love affair was the inspiration for my book, along with my daughter’s crazy antics while working at a doggie daycare.

THE CHRISTMAS GIFT is a sweet small-town contemporary romance about two high school sweethearts who get a second chance at love during Christmas with a little help from a French bulldog. I hope you enjoy this excerpt:

Chapter 1

Riley Wayne placed the star on top of the Christmas tree. A wave of melancholy washed over her. Being single over the holidays was no fun. She’d been back in town two weeks and was still moping over the fact that her last relationship hadn’t worked out. At least she had Taylor, though, and the last thing she wanted was to bring her down. Her younger sister loved this time of year. Always had. Even after their parents died and it was just the two of them, Taylor had wanted to maintain all their family traditions.

The pretty brunette stood next to her studying the tree, and Riley swallowed the lump in her throat before saying, “What do you think? Is it on straight?”

Taylor bit her bottom lip and cocked her head to the side. “It’s just a little crooked. Move it a smidge to the left.”

Riley reached up and moved the star. “Good?”

“Perfect.”

She stepped off the stool and inspected the tree. It was the scrawniest thing she’d ever seen, but they’d done the best they could decorating it. With just three days until Christmas, most of the tree farms had been sold out. They were lucky to have found anything at all. Although, it would’ve been okay with her if they’d come home empty-handed. But Taylor insisted they have a tree. She said it wouldn’t feel like Christmas without one, not to mention the fact that she was under the misguided assumption that celebrating the holiday would help Riley cheer up.

She begged to differ, though, because so far it was having the opposite effect. At thirty, she should’ve been married with children. Instead, not only was she single, she didn’t have any desire to date.

Riley had left the quaint small town in New York that she’d grown up in to move to Maine with a man she’d thought was ready to settle down. Boy, had she been mistaken. Not only didn’t she receive a proposal, she’d found out that Derek had been having affairs with numerous women. If only she could’ve kept Sam, the Saint Bernard they’d acquired together, that would’ve helped ease her loneliness, but Sam needed a large yard to romp around in, and Derek was able to give him that. Besides, moving back to Crescentville mid-month didn’t give her many rental options. In fact, she was lucky that her sister offered to share her condo with her, and although pets were allowed, there was a weight restriction—one that Sam far surpassed.

Taylor draped her arm across Riley’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “I know you’re sad, but maybe something magical will happen that will cheer you up.”

Riley frowned. “Like what?”

Her features became more animated. “Oh, I don’t know. This is the season of joy, and you never know when something wonderful might be around the corner.”

Riley shook her head. “Good things happen for some people, but I’m not going to hold my breath on anything like that happening for me.”

Taylor let out a huge sigh. “You know, I’m not one to say I told you so, but I did warn you not to move in with Derek.”

“That’s because you didn’t want me to move away,” she said with a hint of annoyance.

“Well, that goes without saying. However, you know that wasn’t the only reason. You hardly knew him.”

“How did my little sister become so wise?”

“I had a good teacher.”

Despite her glum mood, Riley shot her a slight smile. “Want some tea?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I never turn down Earl Grey.”

As she headed toward the kitchen, the doorbell chimed. She glanced back at her sister to ask if she was expecting a visitor, but Taylor had disappeared into the bathroom.

With a shrug, she pulled open the front door. A whoosh of cold air and wet snow hit her in the face, but it wasn’t the shock of that that caused her heart to nearly skip a beat. It was the sight of her ex-boyfriend that did—the boyfriend she’d gone with through high school and college and dumped for Derek.

Mason Carr stood before her as buff and handsome as ever, with a cream French bulldog in his arms. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s pretty cold out,” he said, his voice velvet-edged and strong, “and Bodie’s shivering.”

“Come in,” she answered numbly, stepping aside so they could enter the foyer. After she closed the door, her gaze flicked from him, then to the dog.

“I never adopt out an animal without making sure the new home is suitable. No exceptions.”

Riley’s jaw dropped open. “Adopt? Who’s adopting?” Just as she croaked out those words, Taylor strolled out of the bathroom.

“You are,” she replied, taking Bodie from Mason’s arms and placing him into Riley’s. “He’s my Christmas gift to you.”

“Taylor told me how badly you’ve been missing the dog you had in Maine. French bulldogs make great apartment dogs. They’re happy as can be as long as they’re with their human.”

“Exactly why I can’t keep him.” Riley gave the dog back to Taylor. “I have to find a job… At least until spring, when I open my party-planning business. Either way, I won’t be home much.”

Mason’s brows drew together into a frown. “I was under the impression you really wanted a dog. If that’s not the case, I’ll find another home for him. No problem.”

“That’s not necessary.” Taylor headed toward the kitchen with Bodie. “We were just going to have a cup of tea. Why don’t you join us, Mason? I have something to propose that I think will be beneficial to you both and keep Bodie from being left alone.”

Riley followed her sister reluctantly, and by the grim expression on Mason’s face as he walked alongside her, she knew he wasn’t too thrilled with things either.

Taylor put the kettle on and then sat down at the table with Bodie on her lap. The dog stared at Riley as if willing her to keep him.

She had to admit he was pretty darn cute and the perfect size for condo living. However, it wouldn’t be right to leave a new dog alone for eight hours a day.

What if you could take him to work with you?” Taylor asked.

Riley narrowed her eyes. Had her sister lost her mind? “I’m supposed to tell my future employer that I need to bring my dog to work? Come on, Tay, do you really think someone would hire me under that condition? It’s going to be hard enough to find a job at this time of year…”

Taylor shrugged her thin shoulders. “I think it’s possible. Even likely, perhaps. It all depends on who that employer is.”

Both Riley and Mason stared at her with wide eyes, waiting to hear what she was going to say next.

“Mason, are you still shorthanded at Doggie Town?” she asked.

Mason… Shorthanded… He was a dog trainer there…an easygoing, irresponsible dog trainer who liked to hang out with the guys and watch sports all weekend, with no desire to ever settle down. That was why Riley had left him. She’d grown tired of waiting for him to grow up and accept the responsibilities of adulthood. “Am I missing something here? Tay, why would you ask Mason if he was shorthanded, making it sound like he owns the place?”

“Because he does,” she announced brightly. “Bought it in March, right?”

Mason nodded.

Riley blinked with bafflement. To say she was shocked was an understatement. Happy for him, but shocked nonetheless. Although he’d majored in business, he’d never expressed any desire to own one. She’d always thought he’d gone to college to please his dad. What caused this change in him?

She studied his handsome face—the hooded blue eyes, square jaw, and chiseled cheekbones with just a hint of stubble—as if that would provide her the answer. Instead, all it did was make her heart hurt. If he’d matured enough to own a business, could he have changed in other ways too?

Her cheeks burned when his gaze locked with hers and she was caught staring at him. No use wondering what might have been or even what could be, not after what she’d done to him. He’d have to be a fool to even consider seeing her again, and one thing Mason wasn’t was a fool.

She shifted her gaze to her sister. “It’s so embarrassing putting Mason on the spot like this.”

“Why’s it embarrassing?” His question threw her off guard.

“I, um… I-I don’t—” she stuttered.

“To answer you, Taylor, I need someone for daycare,” he said smoothly.

“Riley’d be perfect for that, don’t you think?” Her short bob bounced up and down while she nodded fiercely as if trying to coerce Mason into agreeing with her.

However, before he could answer, Riley shot out of her chair and began pacing the kitchen. “Are you crazy? I am not perfect for that. I’ve never worked at doggie daycare before.”

Taylor shrugged. “But you love dogs and know more about them than anyone I know, except Mason, of course. Besides, what you don’t know, you can learn. Isn’t that right?” She had a wide smile on her full lips and pleading in her big green eyes. Not many people were able to say no to Taylor when she set her mind to something.

“That’s true,” Mason said. “I’m not necessarily looking for someone with experience. What I need is someone reliable and someone I can trust.”

“That’s Riley all right!”

His magnetic blue eyes bore into hers. “Is it? I thought so once.”

She was surprised at how those words stung. It wasn’t that she’d ever wanted to hurt Mason. They’d been drifting apart for a long time, and then when she met Derek, she knew it was time to move on. It was the right thing to do. At least that was what she’d tried to tell herself.

Taylor had made sure, however, that she knew Mason had been having a hard time getting over her. But that was then, and this was now, and he seemed to be doing just fine.

Riley broke his stare by looking down at the floor. “I’m not a bad person, you know. I didn’t deceive you or cheat on you. I was perfectly honest about my feelings. I wanted to get married, and you didn’t.”

He shook his head, but there was no denying the pain on his face. “There’s no sense rehashing all that. We’ve been down that road, and I don’t want to go back. But I do need to hire someone, and you need a job.”

“And Bodie loves Doggie Town,” Taylor added, setting the bulldog on Riley’s lap. “So everyone’s happy, right?”

“This is only temporary. Come spring, I’m opening my own business.”

“Party planning.” Mason once again held her gaze.

“Yes. Party planning.”

“Fine. We have a deal.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “So, I take it you’re keeping Bodie.”

“Does the condo meet your adoption standards?”

“You know it does.”

Taylor got up and went over to him. “I’ll walk you out.”

Before they left the room, Riley said, “I didn’t know Doggie Town did adoptions.”

“It didn’t. I added it about six months ago. There was a real need for one in the area, and it seemed like the right fit for us.”

“It was a good thing to do,” she said warmly.

“Thanks. See you bright and early tomorrow. We open at seven,” he responded matter-of-factly.

****

Mason pulled his collar up to keep the bitter winter wind from blowing down his neckline. “You must be freezing,” he said to Taylor, who wore only a thin hoodie, as she closed the front door behind her.

“Nah, I’m a tough girl,” she said with a chuckle.

“That you are.” But he draped his arm across her shoulders to shield her from the wind anyway.

“I told you my plan would work.” She grinned. “Did you see the admiration in Riley’s eyes when she learned you’d bought Doggie Town? And the adoption center… She was way impressed with that.”

“Not so fast. Just because she’s coming to work for me, and it’s temporary, I might add, doesn’t mean she’ll want us to get back together.”

“No negative thoughts allowed. Once she sees you in this new light, how can she resist? Besides, regardless of what she says, Riley never stopped loving you.”

“And you know this because…”

“Because she’s my sister, and I know her better than she knows herself at times.”

Now it was Mason’s turn to chuckle. “We’ll see about that. Go inside and get warm. You’ve meddled enough for one night.” With that said, he spun her around, opened the door, and ushered her inside.

Later, when he was home and sprawled out in bed with Sable, his three-year-old boxer, he let himself hope that Taylor might be right after all. Maybe there was a shot that he could win Riley back. He closed his eyes and visualized her beautiful oval face, her gorgeous hazel eyes, and silky blonde curls. There’d never been anyone else for him, and after seeing her tonight, he was afraid there never would be. And that made him realize he had to tread carefully. Losing her once had been devastating, but losing her a second time… Well, he was afraid that was something he just might not recover from. With that depressing thought, he fell soundly to sleep.

~*~

USA Today bestselling author Raine English writes sweet small-town contemporary romance, along with paranormal and Gothic romantic suspense. She’s a Daphne du Maurier Award winner and a Golden Heart finalist. To receive information on all her new releases, you can sign up for her newsletter, like her on Facebook, follow her on Twitter, and visit her website.

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Sweet Christmas Kisses 3 - 1st Chapter of Untangling Christmas by Shanna Hatfield

        

I hope you all are as excited about Sweet Christmas Kisses 3 releasing September 27 as those of us included in the boxed set are!

We thought it would be fun to share the first chapter of each story with you as we post on the blog this month, so here's a little peek at Untangling Christmas.

Chapter One

 “I need a favor.”

Mike Clarke lowered the newspaper he held in his hands and glanced up at the woman who set a warm cinnamon roll on the table in front of him. The spice, redolent of home and holidays, drifted upward to his nose, eliciting a growl from his empty belly.

Brenna McCrae ignored the sound and refilled his empty coffee cup with the steaming dark brew he favored.

Mike leaned back in the chair, fighting the urge to inhale the cinnamon roll in a few hungry bites. Cream cheese frosting melted into a decadent pool around the base of the tender pastry, enticing him to sample the creamy sweetness.

Rather than give in to the indulgence, he studied his best friend’s wife. Since he’d moved from Oregon’s biggest city of Portland to Silverton five months ago, the lovely woman fed him breakfast every morning at her bistro, often packed a lunch to go for him, and rarely asked for anything in return. Brock and Brenna offered him unconditional friendship and acceptance when he’d needed it most. He’d do anything for either of them. All they had to do was ask.

With a smile full of masculine charm, he took Brenna’s hand in his, kissing the back of it. “Whatever you need, coffee girl.”

“Hey! Keep your lips off my wife,” Brock McCrae cautioned, as he stepped inside the bistro and took a seat at the table, scowling at Mike in feigned offense.

Mike laughed and released Brenna’s hand, reaching out to take a giggling toddler from Brock. He tugged off the stocking cap covering the child’s head and made a silly face that produced more giggles.

“You don’t need to lay on the flattery or charm, Mike. I’ll bring your bacon and eggs out in a minute.” Brenna carried a high chair over to the table and settled her son in it. Her hand caressed the boy’s soft curls before she looked to Mike again. “Will you really help me out?”

“You know I will, Brenna. What can I do for you?” he asked, taking a deep swallow of the coffee. It was hotter than he expected and burned all the way down his throat, but he didn’t blink or flinch.

“I don’t know if you heard, but the Silverton Foundation is hosting a Festival of Trees to raise funds for the newly opened community center your brother was kind enough to help establish.” Brenna sank down in the chair Brock pulled out for her. He kissed her cheek and draped an arm around her shoulders.

Mike nodded his head. “Levi mentioned something in passing about it the other day, but to be honest, I didn’t really listen to what he said. That brother of mine is always working on some fundraiser or charity event, so they all sort of roll together.”

Brock laughed and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot Brenna left on the table. “Don’t let Levi hear you say that. You’ll be in big trouble.”

“Generally, I am anyway,” Mike said, returning his attention to Brenna. “What does my little brother need help with and how did he rope you into another one of his projects?”

“Levi didn’t ask for my help with anything,” Brenna hurried to clarify.  “The new foundation director is an old friend, and I offered to help her organize the event. It will take place in the warehouse over on Maple Street. The space has been empty for a few years, but it’s perfect for the festival. The problem is that there aren’t enough outlets and those that are there appear questionably safe to use.” Brenna smiled at Mike. “You’re the best electrician in the area, so I was hoping you’d have time to go over and check it out. Ideally, we could use at least a dozen more outlets. We’d also like assurance the existing wiring won’t catch fire and burn down all the trees before the event.”

Mike sipped his coffee, doing his best to keep an impassive expression on his face. “When do you need all this free labor to be completed?”

“The trees begin arriving the Monday after Thanksgiving.” Brenna spoke with her gaze fixed on a point over Mike’s shoulder, unwilling to look him in the eye.

He straightened in his chair and glared at her. “Are you nuts? That’s next week! With Thanksgiving tomorrow I’m running behind as it is. You are killing me, Brenna.”

“Please, Mike? It would be such a help and give us peace of mind to know the wiring is safe.” The pleading look she gave him obliterated his hastily formed excuses. “Pretty please?”

He scowled at Brock. “How do you tell this girl no?” A sigh rolled up from his chest and out his lips. “It looks like I’ll be heading over to the warehouse this afternoon. Want to come along?”

Brock laughed and thumped Mike on the shoulder. “She’s already enlisted me to repair a section of the warehouse where the roof leaked before they put a new one on last year.”

“You both are terrific,” Brenna said, rising to her feet with a happy smile. “I’ll be right back with the rest of your breakfast, Mike. Do you want your usual, Brock?” Her husband nodded and she disappeared inside the kitchen.

Mike ate his cinnamon roll, four pieces of crispy bacon, and eggs fried just the way he liked while he discussed Brock’s construction business and jobs they’d both work on in the coming weeks. Finished with his meal, he ruffled the baby’s hair, hugged Brenna, and told Brock he’d meet him at the warehouse at two that afternoon.

At five minutes before two, he pulled up at the warehouse and sat in his truck, studying the structure from the outside. Although empty, the building certainly didn’t appear abandoned. A fresh coat of camel-colored paint with deep red trim looked neat and appealing. The parking lot was clean, as though a sweeper had recently cleared the surface.

Mike stepped out of his truck and lifted a toolbox, shrugging deeper into his coat to avoid the chilly November wind whipping around him. The pewter-hued sky promised to bring an unwelcome storm. He just hoped it would wait a few hours until he was home for the night.

His long legs swiftly covered the distance from his pickup to the front door. He yanked it open and walked inside. The lobby was empty, but the muffled sound of voices drew him down a hallway to a door that opened into the large expanse of the warehouse’s storage area.

He stepped into the open space and looked around, aware of the glare and hum of the bright fluorescent lights overhead. Several people worked on various projects. Three women sorted tangled balls of lights. Four high school girls giggled as they looked his way, pretending to busy themselves with plastic storage tubs full of fake pine garlands.

Brock and two of his crew installed sheetrock panels in one corner of the room. Mike ambled toward his friend.

“Hey, man,” Brock called. He hurried down the ladder and held out a hand to Mike in greeting. “Thanks for coming over.”

Mike shook his hand. “Like your wife gave me a choice. Seriously, dude, how do you turn her down?”

Brock grinned and thumped Mike on the back. “What makes you think I possess the superpowers that would require? If you haven’t noticed, when my wife makes a request, we all jump to do her bidding.”

Mike chuckled. “But that’s because her requests are few and everyone wants to keep the best chef in town happy.” He pointed to a nearby outlet. “Do you know where the breaker is located?”

“Step right this way, my good man.” Brock affected an accent befitting a carnival barker and swept his hand toward a room at the far end of the warehouse.

An hour later, Mike had gone through the entire building, made a list of needed supplies to update the wiring, and repacked his toolbox.

“Do we need permission from the owner of the building to do the electrical work?” Mike asked as he held a piece of sheetrock while Brock nailed it to the wall.

“No. Bill Ferrelly owns the building. He told Miss Taggart to do whatever she wanted with the space. He’s providing use of it at no charge and will foot the bill for the utilities as part of his donation to the event.”

Mike stared at his friend. “Who’s Miss Taggart?”

Brock stopped working and glanced at him. “She’s Mr. Ferrelly’s niece and the director of the Silverton Foundation. Miss Taggart happens to be the one organizing this event. Evidently, Brenna was friends with her in middle school. That’s how you and I were roped into helping with this little project. Even if Brenna hadn’t coerced us into volunteering, your brother would have eventually found some way to involve us. He and Kat have promised to donate a tree and attend the auction.”

“With all these bleeding hearts around us, I suppose we are doomed to help with any and all events like this one. It’s a good thing I don’t mind doing charity work.” Mike checked his watch. “I need to drive out to a new job site. I’ll be back Friday and take care of the wiring.” He turned around and nearly dropped the toolbox he carried on his foot.

A red-haired woman hustled toward them, wearing a cheerful smile and an eye-popping outfit. For all appearances, she dressed in an assemblage of clothing appropriate for a belated Halloween party. The bright purple sweater, short blue plaid skirt, and yellow cable-knit tights with gray ankle boots weren’t an ensemble a normal adult would choose to wear on an average day.

Mike stiffened as she approached. He didn’t like redheads, bubbly personalities, or women with the fashion sense of an attention-seeking adolescent.

“That’s Miss Taggart,” Brock said quietly, tipping his head toward the woman.

“And you couldn’t have warned me sooner?” Mike growled in an angry whisper. “Tell Brenna she’ll have to find someone else to do the work.”

“Mike,” Brock placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “Don’t be that way. Not ten minutes ago, you said it’s a good thing they asked you to come before they started plugging in dozens of strings of lights because the wiring might explode. Think of all the people this fundraiser will help. Focus on that, not the pretty woman in charge of it. You can’t hate every woman with red hair just because of...”

Mike didn’t let him finish before he snapped, “I don’t think she’s pretty. She looks like a flame-headed freak dressed for a frat house costume party.” Although he spoke in a low tone he assumed no one but Brock would hear, his voice carried in the cavernous building.

The woman stopped a few feet away and boldly stared at Mike. “Flame-headed freak?” Her left eyebrow crept upward as her gaze traveled from his scuffed work boots to the shaggy dark hair on his head. “Surely even a cavedweller like you can come up with something more creative than that.”

Chagrined, Mike wanted to squirm under her perusal. So what if he hadn’t felt inclined to shave or get a haircut for a month or… six. It wasn’t any of her business, anyway.  However, he hadn’t meant for her to overhear his rude comment. “My apologies, Miss Taggart.”

She shrugged and held a hand toward him. Several bracelets jangled around her wrist, tinkling as she waited for him to accept her outstretched hand.

Reluctantly, Mike shook her soft fingers. A jolt shot from where her palm touched his all the way up to his head then down to his toes. He released her hand and stepped back, alarmed by the sizzling current coursing through him. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he’d been electrocuted. He’d experienced the zinging sensation enough in his work to know when it happened.

“No need to apologize, especially when you don’t mean it.” She waved a dismissive hand at him and turned to Brock. “Is this the electrician?”

“Yep,” Brock said, slapping Mike on the back. “Miss Taylor Taggart, it’s my pleasure to introduce Mike Clarke, the best electrician I’ve ever met and my best friend. I promise he usually exhibits much better manners.”

The woman eyed Mike again. “I appreciate you coming over. When can you start?”

Although Mike had already decided he’d find someone else to do the job, he was as surprised as anyone to hear the words flowing from his lips. “I’ll get a permit this afternoon and come on Friday to get started. It will take a few days to update the existing wiring and Brenna mentioned you wanted additional outlets. Is that correct?”

“Yes, it is, Mr. Clarke.” She moved away from the two men and motioned for them to follow her as she pointed to where she wanted outlets installed. “Is that a possibility?”

“It is, Miss Taggart, but I have other jobs to do and will only be available to help this weekend.” Mike wondered when his mouth and brain had suffered such a major malfunction. After meeting crazy Taylor Taggart, he did not intend to offer his help. Yet, he’d just committed himself to working all weekend on the wiring.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to finish what is needed, Mr. Clarke. It’s wonderful you’re willing to do this, to help our fundraiser be successful.” She studied him more closely. “Are you related to Levi Clarke?”

“He’s my brother. Can you see a family resemblance?” He rubbed a hand along his scruffy beard.

“Barely. Levi is such a gentleman and looks the part. His wife is absolutely stunning.” Disdainfully, her gaze swept over him again.

“Yeah, Kat is gorgeous and Levi is a lucky man,” Mike said. Genuinely happy for his brother, Levi married the love of his life in a late spring wedding that was the talk of Portland for weeks. Too bad the girl Mike planned to marry turned out to be such a...

Rapidly pulling himself from his maudlin thoughts, he glanced at Miss Taggart again. Red hair, smooth and shiny, swung around her face in sassy layers that put him in mind of a feisty fairy.

Incredibly long, dark lashes rimmed blue eyes the color of frozen winter lakes. Those intriguing orbs held a mixture of intelligence and amusement. Unlike most redheads, no freckles dotted her creamy complexion. A pert little nose sat above a pair of perfectly kissable lips.

Despite her ridiculous attire, he might have given her a second look, if he didn’t so thoroughly loathe redheaded women.

She and Brock stared at him, waiting for his response to a question. Embarrassed, Mike shifted his toolbox from one hand to the other and strode toward the door. “I’ll be here Friday.”

Desperate to get away from the woman, he hurried outside, tipping his face up to the bone-chilling rain that fell in heavy drops laced with sleet. He needed something to distract him from the insane longing he felt to rush back inside and kiss Miss Taylor Taggart. Maybe he’d end up with pneumonia and not have to see the woman again.

~*~

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Convinced everyone deserves a happy ending, USA Today best-selling author Shanna Hatfield is out to make it happen, one story at a time. Her sweet historical and contemporary romances combine humor and heart-pumping moments with relatable characters.

   When this hopeless romantic isn’t writing or indulging in rich, decadent chocolate, Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller.

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