Allrightsreserved

Luke:AScroogedChristmasisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidents

areallproductsoftheauthor’sridiculousimaginationandareusedfictitiously.Any

resemblancetoactualevents,locales,orpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.

ExceptaspermittedundertheUSCopyrightActof1976,nopartofthispublicationmay

bereproduced,distributedortransmittedinanyformbyanymeans,orstoredina

databaseorretrievalsystem,withoutthepriorwrittenpermissionoftheauthor.

FirstEdition:2017

Editor

JuliaGoda

Formatting:

CPSmith

Coverdesign:

DarkWatersCovers

TitlesbyCPSmith

AReasontoBreathe

AReasontoKill

AReasontoLive

RestoringHope

PropertyOf

FRAMED

Wallflowers:ThreeofaKind

Wallflowers:DoubleTrouble

Luke:AScroogedChristmas

Dedication

Forthosewhohavelosttheunimaginable,

justknowthatyou’renotalone.

DearReaders,

IintentionallyusedthenameLucasDeaconKnightinAScroogedChristmas.Iborrowed
this name to show respect for a woman, and author, whose worlds have entertained so
manyofusandwhosestrengthandrespectforwomen,aswefightdailyforourplacein
thisworld,isunmeasurable.KristenAshley’sworldshelpedmebelieveinmyselfwhenI
thought I was useless. Her words lifted me up so I could continue my own story, rather
thanlyinginaholeofdespair.HerLukeisacharacterIadore.Ineverthoughttousehis
nameinmyownwritingbecauseIknewIcouldn’tdoitjustice.Butthenthisbrokenman
came to me for A Scrooged Christmas, and I knew he deserved a great name, a strong
name,soIgavehimoneIcherish.HemaynotbeascoolastheoriginalLuke,buthehas
aplaceinmyheartallthesame.

MerryChristmastoeveryoneofyou.Maythisholidayseasonbringyoumanyblessings.

OXOX

Teeny

One

December21st

Gray clouds hung over Tulsa like a bad mood. Snow was threatening, to the glee of
children everywhere, promising a rare white Christmas in the Sooner State. I glanced
around my hometown as my brother drove me home from the airport, amazed at how
muchithadgrownintheyearssinceI’dbeengone.Whatusedtobefarmland,orhometo
grazing cattle and horses, was now abuzz with activity as new homes sprung from the
earth,foreverchangingthelandscapeofthecity.

Turning toward my brother, I scowled at him, sure I hadn’t heard him correctly as he

announced he was leaving town soon. “This will be my first Christmas home since Dad
died,andyou’regoingtobeoutoftown?”

Greggshrugged,unfazedbymyangerasusual.Nothingruffledhisfeathers.Ifhewere

any more laid back, he’d be dead. “We’ve been booked for six months. I didn’t know
when we agreed to play during the holidays that you’d decide to move home. I figured
afterallthetimeyouspentintheSunshineState,you’dsettlethereafteryoufinishedyour
master’sdegree.”

Iglaredathisprofile,wishingIhadasuperpowersoIcouldinflictpain.Or,atthevery

least,bendhimtomywillsoIwouldn’tbealoneatChristmas.Though,Isupposethefact
hewasintownatallwasamiracle.Heplayedbassguitarforasuccessfulupandcoming
countryband,andwasontheroadatleastfortyweeksoutoftheyear.

“Whendoyouleave?”Iasked,thenrubbedmyhandstogethertocirculatemyblood.

AfteryearsinFlorida,itseemedthinnerthanwhenI’dleft.Nowthesub-zerotemperature
creptintomyboneslikeanunwantedvirus.

Gregg’s eyes darted to mine, then his face pulled into chagrin. “Tomorrow,” he

mumbledwithouttheleastbitoftheguilthisexpressionimplied.

“Sorry?Didyoujustsaytomorrow?”

HismouthpulledintoaflirtysmilethatI’msureworkedonmostwomen—exceptme.

“AnnaBanana,”hecrooned.Ihatedmynickname.“NextyearI’llbehere,Ipromise.”

“Soyou’retellingmethatI’mgoingtobealonetheentireholiday?NewYear’sDayas

well?”

Herolledhislipsbetweenhisteethandkeptquiet,waitingformetoerupt.

“Thissucks,”Iwhined.

“You could come with us,” he offered, and I knew he meant it. But traveling with a

bunchofrowdymenwhiletheykickeduptheirheelswasn’tmyideaoffun.

Mynosestartedtotingle,andIknewtearsweren’tfarbehind.“Iknowit’sbeenafew

yearssinceMomandDaddied,butit’sstillgonnabehard,Gregg.Andyouwantmetobe
aloneinthatbighousebymyself?”

“I didn’t plan it this way,” he sighed, sounding a bit defensive. “I want to be here to

supportyou,butIcan’tbackout,evenifIwantedto.”

Mynosetingledharder,andIclosedmyeyes.

“Jesus.Pleasetellmeyouaren’tcrying.”

Itookadeepbreathtocontrolmyemotions.Itdidn’twork.“I’mnotcrying,”Ibitout,

thenhiccupped.

“AnnaBanana.”

“IsweartoGod,ifyoucallmethatonemoretime,”Igrowled.

Greggreachedoverandtriedtotickleme.Islappedathishand,thenpunchedhimin

thearmforgoodmeasure.

“Keepyourhandsonthewheel,asshole.Andslowdown;theroadsaregettingslick.”

“I’llslowdownifyousayyouforgiveme,”Greggbargainedwithagrin.

Irolledmyeyes.HeknewIcouldn’tstaymadathimforlong.Nomatterwhat.We’d

beeneachother’ssafetynetourwholelives.Adoptedasinfantsbyanoldercouple,Gregg
and I had always been close. He was fiercely protective of me, like any good brother
should be, even though we weren’t related by blood. The Stubbs had been wonderful
parents,eventhoughtheywereintheirlatefiftieswhentheytookuson.Butadoptingus
at middle age meant they passed away too soon for either Gregg’s or my liking. Now it
wasjustthetwoofusagainsttheworld.

I reached out and tugged on his chocolate-colored ear. He turned his amber-colored

eyestowardmeandsmiled.He’dnevercaredthatIwaswhiteandhewasblack.Wewere
siblings.TheStubbstwins,we’dusedtosay.Andnothingwouldchangethat.

NotevenbeingabandonedatChristmas.

ChristmaslightsflickeredbrightlyasLukemadehiswayoutofthehardwarestore.There
was an animated Santa Claus positioned by the door, waving as customers came inside.
His large belly, bright red suit, and jolly deposition put shoppers in the mood to spend
money, but Luke ignored it. His mood most days ranged from indifferent to downright
sullen.AnditwasworseatChristmastime.

Pausingashepushedopentheglassdoor,heglancedpasttheanimateddecorationand

froze.Therewasanativitysceneadjacenttothejollyoldelf,completewithlife-sizebaby
Jesus. This particular Jesus had been Americanized with blond hair and blue eyes,

instantly reminding Luke of his deceased nephew. In fact, he looked so much like
Matthewthatthedullachethatcamewheneverhethoughtabouthimburnedhotter—until
asharppainenvelopedhisgut,threateningtopullhimunder.Inaninstant,Lukecouldsee
hisnephew’sbrighteyessmilingbackathimashischubbycheekspulledintoagrin.And
heknewifheclosedhiseyesandfocused,hecouldstillhearhisvoicebabblingashelay
inhiscrib.

Foramoment,heletthememoriesswirlthroughhismind’seyeuntiltheachewastoo

much to bear. Then he passed through the door and headed for his truck, ignoring the
Salvation Army volunteer as he petitioned shoppers for their spare change. It had been
over four years since his nephew died, but at that moment, it felt like it happened
yesterday,andLukecouldbarelybreathe.

Casting his gaze to the ground, Luke moved to his truck and yanked open the door,

tossing the supplies he’d purchased on the seat before climbing in. Then he took a deep
breathtoeasetheguiltthatalwayscamewhenhethoughtaboutlittleMatthew.

Hisyoungersister,Jess,hadgottenpregnantateighteenbyanassholewho’dtakenoff,

and she’d refused to abort the child, going against their parents’ wishes. She was bright
and full of promise, a hard worker destined for something better than flipping burgers
whilebeingasinglemother,they’dsaid.Jesswasstubborn,though,andmovedoutjustto
spitethem,sayingshe’dfindawaytomakeitwork.Thatshewasn’tgivingupherchild
for anyone. His parents had turned to him, begging him to talk some sense into her. So
Luke,beingtwentyandoutonhisown,hadmovedherinwithhimsoshecouldkeepher
childandstillattendcollegeliketheirparentswanted.

Theirarrangementhadbeensimple.ShewoulddropMatthewoffatdaycare,andLuke

wouldpickhimup.Andatnight,theysharedtheloadofchangingdiaperssoshecould
study.

Matthewwasjustassmartashismother,withatonofenergytoboot.Itwasafull-time

jobkeepingupwithhim,onethatLukehadn’tmindedonebit.Thenoneday,he’dpicked
him up from daycare, and his whole world changed. The temperature had been in the
hundredsthatday,andhisACwasontheblink,sohe’dhadtokeepthewindowsrolled
downonhispiece-of-shitcar.Hewasexhaustedfromtheheat,havingworkedoutsidethe
whole day, so he hadn’t paid much attention to what Matthew was doing on the drive
home.Amilefromhishouse,helookedintotherearviewmirrorasmovementcaughthis
eye,justintimetoseeMatthewhadwiggledoutofhiscarseatlikeHoudini.Onesecond
hewasthere,andthenexthe’dtumbledouttheopenwindowbeforeLukehadachanceto
react.They’dlosthimthreedayslatertosevereheadtraumafromthefall.

Luke glanced at the radio as he started his truck. It was December 21

, four days till

Christmas. The familiar tug on his heart crept in, and he clenched his jaw. In four more
days,Matthewwouldhavebeensixyearsold.

Two

“YouwannagrababurgerandabeeratCrowCreek?”Mystomachgrumbledinresponse.
“I’lltakethatasayes,”Greggchuckled.

“I don’t suppose you stocked the cabinets in preparation for my arrival,” I asked,

watchingasrainturnedtosnowanddanceditswaydowntotheground.“Ifnot,I’llhave
togooutinthis.”

Hisbrowsrose.“YouthinkI’dletmylittlesisterstarve?”

Isnorted.Hewasolderbyoneday.

I cocked an eyebrow and considered. “Probably not. You only abandon me at

Christmas,notstarveme.”

“Shrew,”hemumbled.

“Deviant,”Ireplied.

“Pale-asspaininmybutt.”

“Oooo,I’veneverbeencalledpalebefore.”

“Draculahasmorecolorthanyou,woman.WhatthehelldidyoudodowninFlorida?

’Causeitsureashellwasn’ttanningonthebeach.”

“Studiedmyassoff.”

Helookeddowntowheresaidassrestedontheseat.“Sothat’swhathappenedtoit.”

Inarrowedmyeyes.“It’sbigenough.”

“Maybeforawhiteman.Ilikemywomenwithacaboose.”

“Youlikeyourwomeneasy.”

Hegrinned.“Thattoo.”

“LikeIsaid,deviant.”

Webothgrinned.Ithadbeenalongtimesincewe’dgiveneachotherhell.

“Ijustneedtomakeaquickstopatthehardwarestore,thenwe’llgrabthatburger,”he

mumbledasweapproachedMidtownHardware.

Istartedtosay,“Whileyou’reintherepickoutagiftforyourself,”becauseI’dyetto

goshopping,butGreggstartedpumpingthebrakesinpreparationtoturn.HisJeepdidn’t
cooperateontheslickroads,though,andwecareenedoutofcontrol.Hetriedtomakethe
turnintotheparkinglot,buttherewasatruckwaitingtoexitinourpath.Ibracedmyself
againstthedashforimpact,butitdidn’thelp.

We weren’t going fast enough to trigger the airbags, but when we slammed into the

truck driver’s side door, my head whipped forward, clipping my forehead on the metal

mirrorattachedtothesunvisor.Ifeltasharpstingonimpact,thenwarmthtrickleddown
therightsideofmyface.Istartedtoraisemyhandtocheckforblood,butIglancedupat
theotherdriverthroughthewindow,andfroze.We’dslidsidewaysafterimpactbecause
of the ice, so the position of Gregg’s Jeep put me within a few feet of the driver’s side
door,andIcouldseethedriverclearly. Dark, soulful eyes were staring back at me. His
expression was hard, angry after the impact. But then it turned into something that I
couldn’tquiteputanameto,andIshiveredfromtheeffect.

“Jesus,”Greggmuttered,makingmejump,thenrippedopenhisdoorandclimbedout.I

keptmyeyesonthedriverasGreggmadehiswaytothehoodofhisJeep,caughtinthe
pull of his coffee-colored eyes. He ignored my brother as he checked the damage,
scanningmyfaceinstead.ThenhiseyeszeroedinonthebloodIfeltdrippingdownmy
cheek,andhislipsmovedinwhatlookedlikeacurse.Igrabbedatissuefrommypurseto
stop the bleeding as he unbuckled his seatbelt and scooted across, exiting from the
passenger side, since Gregg’s Jeep blocked his exit. As he rounded the hood, his eyes
camebacktomewhileIwipedthebloodfrommycheek,thenshottomybrother,andhis
jawhardened.

WordswereexchangedasIsattherewonderingaboutthedark-eyedman.Hewastall.

Broad.Withanedgeabouthimthatsaidyoudidn’twanttotanglewithhim.Andallofit
spoketomyinnercavewomaninahugeway.Ifiguredamanlikethathadtobetaken,so
Iglancedathislefthand,lookingforaweddingring.Tomysurprise,therewasnone.

Atonepoint,hegesturedtowardme,andmybrothergrewangry,butwhenhelooked

backatme,hiseyesroundedinsurprise.Iwavedhimoff,lettinghimknowIwasfineas
trafficslowedaroundus.

Sinceitwassnowing,operationSlickStreetswasineffect.Thatmeantyoudidn’tcall

the police for an accident with no injuries. You just exchanged information and filed a
report online. So they exchanged insurance cards with quick, short comments, both
holdingbacktheiranger.Whentheyweredone,themanwithsoulfuleyeslookedinmy
direction one last time before climbing into his truck and driving away, clearing up the
trafficjam.Iwatchedcloselyashistaillightsmovedfartheraway,wonderingifI’dever
seehimagain.

BythetimeLukereachedhishouse,hisjawhurtfromworkingthemusclestocontrolhis
anger.Thewayhisdayhadgonewasaperfectexampleofwhyhehatedtheholidays.

ItremindedhimofMatthew.

FromThanksgivingDaytoNewYear’sDay,hismoodwasvolatileatbestashefought

withtheguilthefeltoverhisnephew’sdeath.Normally,heavoidedthecrowdsandwell-
wishers,takingahiatusfromhisworkasacontractorduringtheholidays.Buthe’dhada
momentofweaknesswhenagoodfriendaskedhimtobeoncallwhilehetookhisfamily

outoftown.

Andlookwhereitgothim.

Histruckwasjackedup.Hisnephewforemostonhismind.Andnowhecouldadda

womanwithflowingcurlsthecolorofhoneytohislistofthingstobepissedabout.

Hehadn’thadareactiontoawomaninalongwhile.Notonehe’dfeltdeepinhisgut.

And it burned like acid that the woman with cornflower-blue eyes was already taken.
Takenbyamanwhodidn’tevencheckonherafterthecrash.Granted,atthespeedhewas
going, Luke doubted she suffered serious injuries. But she’d cut her head on something,
and the sight of the blood dripping onto her golden curls had brought out his protective
nature.

Easingintohisdriveway,hethrewhistruckintopark,mutteringtheexactwordshe’d

said to the asshole behind the wheel. “You check your woman for injuries before your
fuckingJeep.”

Rollinghisnecktoworkoutthekinks,Lukesatinthecoldbeforeexitinghistruck.He

looked up at his house, staring at the dark windows. He lived alone now. Jess had
eventually moved forward with her life after losing Matthew. Forgiven him without a
secondthoughtforbeingcarelesswithherson.Nowshewasmarriedwithanotherchild
ontheway.Finallyhappy.Orashappyasonecouldbeafteralosslikethat.

Closinghiseyes,hepicturedMatthewhowherememberedhim:laughing.

“Missyou,buddy,”Lukemumbledintothegloom,thenscootedacrosstheseattothe

passengersideandpeeledoutofhistruck,headinginsideforanotherlong,lonelynight.

Three

December22nd

“So,you’rebackforgood?”JaneWells,oneofmybestfriendsfromhighschool,asked.

We’dmetatRBarandGrillinBrookside,astretchofPeoriaAvenueneartheArkansas

River where the hipsters of Tulsa liked to hang out. My parents’ house wasn’t far from
here,justafive-minutewalkasthecrowflies,so,hipornot,itwasmydefaultstomping
ground.

“I’vebeenawaylongenough.IknowIcouldhavefinishedmymaster’shereintown,

butwithGreggontheroadsomuch,IfiguredI’dconcentratebetterwithouttheconstant
reminderthatMomandDadaregone.”

“Soyou’rekeepingtheirhouse?”

InoddedasItookadeeppullfrommybeer.“TheyleftittobothGreggandme,and

neitheroneofusisreadytosell.Ifigureoneday,I’llmeetsomeoneandbuildalifewith
him,andthenwecandecidewhattodowiththeirhome.”

“Doyoustillwanttoworkwithdisabledkids?”

Mymouthpulledintoagrin.She’dbeentherethedayI’dmetSeth,anautisticboyat

ourschool.Therewassomethingaboutmehe’dliked,soIwentoutofmywaytoalways
sayhitohiminthehallways.BythetimeIwasaseniorinhighschool,Iwasanaidinthe
special education room, working with Seth on his fine and gross motor skills. His
successesashelearnedtoliveinourworldbecamemysuccessesaswell.I’dbeenmore
proudthedayhe’dlearnedtowritehisnamethanIwasofgraduatingwithhonors.

“IplantoapplyattheLittleLighthouseassoonastheholidaysareover.”

Janereturnedmysmile.“Theworldneedsmorepeoplelikeyou.Youalmostgiveme

hopethatbringingkidsintothisworldisn’tamistake.”

Ilookedatherstomach.“Areyou?”

“No!”sheanswered,chokingonherownbeer.“Ijustmeantfiguratively.”

Thewaitressarrivedwithourburgers;Ileanedtotheleftsoshecouldplacethemonthe

table. As I did, I looked out the large picture window. Across the street toward Trader
Joe’s, I saw the man from the accident the night before walking casually down the
sidewalk.MybreathcaughtashelookedupanddownPeoriabeforecrossingtheslush-
coveredstreet.Hedidn’tseemesittingbythewindowashelookedinourdirection,butI
got a good look at him. His dark, soulful eyes almost seemed sad as he darted between
parkedcars.

IfollowedhisprogressashepassedthefrontofRBar.Hewalkedwithpurposeandjust

abitofswagger,ashispowerfulthighsstretchedtheseamsofhisWranglers.Hepausedas
hepassedthewindow,thenturnedbackmywayandwatchedawomancarryingasmall
child,andwhatlookedlikelast-minutegifts,dashtohercar.Whenthelittleblond-headed
toddlerraisedhishandandwaved,myeyesshotbacktomymysteryman.Hewassmiling
at the child, waving in return. My stomach dropped a bit at the sight. He was a rugged-
lookingman,darkandmysteriouswhenhewasn’tsmiling.Butwhenhisfacelituplikeit
did for the child, he went from ruggedly handsome to sinfully gorgeous, until his eyes
flashedwithpainforsomereason.

“He has to be taken,” I mumbled as his retreating backside disappeared from view,

wonderingattheintenselookI’dseencrosshisfacewhenhelookedawayfromthechild.

Janemumbledsomethinginreply,andIlookedup.I’dbeensolostinmyownthoughts

asIwatchedmymysterymanleave,I’dforgottenwhereIwas.

“Didyousaysomething?”

“Isaid,ifyouwereasmartwoman,you’dfollowhimandfindoutwherehelives.That

manwasF.I.N.E.”

Ichucklednervouslyathavingbeencaughtoglingtheman.

“I’mserious,Anna.Ifhewaswalking,thenhelivescloseby,likeyou.”

Ishookmyhead.“I’mnotsodesperateforadatethatI’llstartstalkingmen.However,

in this case, I won’t need to. That man was in an accident with Gregg last night. That’s
howIknowhim.IfIwanttofindhim,Ionlyhavetoaskmybrotherforhisinformation.”

Hereyesgrewwide.“It’slikedestinyoraChristmasgift.”

Isnorted.“I’mprettysurehewouldn’tseeitlikethat.”

“Ifhewasattractedtoyou,hemight.”

The image of the man staring back at me as our eyes locked filled my head. There’d

beensomethingtherebetweenus.I’dfeltit.

“Maybe,” I admitted, wondering if Gregg had left the man’s information in his room

beforehelefttown.

Jane and I parted company after we ate, and I headed home on quick feet. I couldn’t

shaketheimageofmymysterymansmilingatthatchild.Ineededtoknowmoreabout
him, but I was too chicken to call my brother and ask him outright for the man’s
information.He’dteasemeendlesslyifheknewIwasattractedtohim,soinstead,Icrept
into his room like I was afraid of getting caught, looking for the card he’d handed to
Gregg.

My search was to no avail, though, so I went downstairs and grabbed a book to read.

Butthestillnessofthehousebegantospookme.IgrabbedtheTVremoteandturnedit
on,hopingtodrownoutthesilence.

It’saWonderfulLifewasplaying,soIsettledbackintothecouchandwatchedasItried

toignoretheemptinessthatslowlycreptin.Iwashome,buthomewasnolongerwhatit
should have been. Once a place that filled me with love and safety, now just felt lonely
and cold. The ghosts of my past taunted me with memories of a better time. One with

family,love,andsecurity,remindingmeagainthatIwasallalone.

Four

December23rd

Glancingaroundthelivingroom,IwasconfusedforamomentwhereIwas.Thenitsank
in.Home.

Myneckwasstifffromsleepingonthecouch,soIrolledittoworkoutthekinks.The

sun had decided to peek through the clouds today. Blindingly bright and merciless,
threateningtomeltawayallthatwasleftoftheChristmassnow,itlitupthekitchenwitha
warmglowasIstumbledtothecabinetforcoffee.ThenIrememberedI’dusedthelastof
itthedaybefore,andImoaned.

I looked at the clock. Trader Joe’s would be opening in fifteen minutes, so the

likelihoodofitnotbeingpackedthisearlywasgood.WhichmeantIdidn’thavetoworry
aboutrunningintoanyone.

Withthatinmind,Igrabbedmyfather’srattyoldsweatertocovermyfadingsweats,

threw my hair into a ponytail and covered it with a stocking cap, and then shielded my
face with huge-ass sunglasses. I surveyed my appearance before stepping through the
door.Ilookedhideousandunrecognizable.

Thehomelesslookwillhavetodo.

Godhadasenseofhumor,Idecided,evenduringthebusiesttimeofyearforhim.How
didIknow?Well,I’dmadeitallthewaytoTraderJoe’swithoutanyonelookinginmy
direction. Then I’d crept stealthily to the coffee aisle, ducking my head like an actress
leaving the airport for added ‘incognito.’ It wasn’t that I was that well known, but I’d
grownupinthispartofTulsa.Thelikelihoodofbumpingintooneofmyneighborswas
high, and I hadn’t had enough caffeine—or any for that matter—to converse, nor did I
wantanyoneseeingmelookinglikeabaglady.

Butthatdidn’tstopfate.

JustasIroundedacornerwithmytreasuredcoffeeinhand,Ispiedmymysterymanin

allhismanlyglory.Hehadabasketinhishand,andwaspullingaloafofbreadoffthe
shelf.

Don’taskmewhy,becauseI’msureitwouldtakeatrainedprofessionaltoexplainit,

but I ducked like a criminal avoiding the police and plastered myself to an endcap so I

couldwatchhim.

His hair was a tad on the longer side, and it was mussed up, like he’d run his finger

throughitwhenherose,butnothingelse.Andthedarkshadowonhisjawlookedtobea
fewdaysold.ThenIrealizedhewaswearingthesameshirtasthedaybefore.

DidhefallasleeponthecouchlikeIdid?

Atonepointhemusthavefeltmyeyesonhim,becausehelookedupandscannedthe

aisle.Iknewhecouldn’tseeme;Iwaspeekingthroughapyramidofcannedpumpkin,but
Ijumpedanyway,knockingatleasttencanstothefloor.

Dropping to my knees to pick them up, I prayed he wouldn’t come to investigate the

crazyladyscramblingaroundonthefloor.Butfatewasaficklebitch.I’dmanagedtograb
ahandfulofcanswhenalargemasculinehandreacheddownbesidemeandgrabbedone.

Imumbled,“Thanks,I’mabitofaklutz,”asIkeptmyheadpointedawayfromhim.

“Notaproblem,”hemumbledlowashepickedupasecondcan.

He was so close I could have touched him. But I settled for breathing in his unique

scentofthefreshoutdoors,mingledwithsomethingmusky.WhenIinhaleddeeply,like
I’ddieifIdidn’tfillmylungswithhismanlyscent,Ifeltratherthansawhimlookdown
atmeoddly.Tocoverupmyindiscretion,Icrawledswiftlyaroundthecorneroftheaisle,
mumbling,“Onegotawayfromme,”asIwent.Hesaidnothingmoreasheplacedthelast
canontheendcapandwalkedaway.

IfeltlikeIshouldsaysomething,soIcalledout,“Thankyou.MerryChristmas,”buthe

didn’tacknowledgemysalutation;hejustkeptrightonwalking.

I’d like to say I left the store immediately, but I didn’t. Instead, I grabbed a shopping

cartlikeIneededmorefood,andfollowedhimatadiscretedistancearoundthestore.Any
itemhelookedat,Istoppedtoinvestigate.Iwasn’tsureifhistasteinfoodwouldgiveme
anycluestotheman,butatleastitdidn’tmakemelooklikeIwasastalker—eventhough
I was. I occasionally dropped one of his selections into my cart, intrigued by his food
choices. They told me two things about the man: his tastes in food ran from sushi to
gummybears,andifhewasinvolvedwithsomeone,hewouldhavegrabbedmorefood.
Everythingheputinhisbasketwasasingleserving.

Abuzzofenergy,likeadoubleespressowithextraheavycream,hitmysystemwhenI

realizedhewassingle.

MaybeIshouldbumpintohimandstartaconversation?

ThenIcaughtmyreflectioninthewindowandstopped.

Whyhadn’tIbotheredtochange?

I watched as he checked out, but didn’t approach. There was a time and a place for

everything,anddefinitelyabetteroutfittoleavealastingimpression.I’djusthavetowait.
Helivedinthisarea,shoppedatmystore,andmybrotherowedhimforthedamagetohis
truck.IknewmychancesweregoodthatIwouldseehimagain,sowiththatthoughtin
mind,Iduckedmyheadtoavoiddetectionandheadedforthebackofthecheckoutline.

Five

ChristmasEve

Cold.That’swhatIwoketoonChristmasEve.Acoldhouseandacoldbedthankstothe
snow we received in the midnight hours. My teeth were actually chattering like a
skeleton’sonHalloween.

Rollingfrommybed,Iputonmyduckslippers,grabbedDad’soldsweater,andheaded

forthethermostat.

Theglowingnumbersread59degrees.

“ColdandaloneonChristmas.Welcomehome,AnnaBanana,”Igroused,thenmoved

thedialbackandforth,hopingitwouldkickontheheat.

Nothing.

Nowwhat?

TothebasementIgo.

Mom and Dad’s house was built back in the days when basements were king, and I

hatedtheirs.Itwasdark.Dank.Andjustplainspooky.Itwasalsowherethefurnacewas
located.

Flashlightinhand,Iopenedthedoortoheaddownstairs,thendirectedthebeamtofind

thelightswitchlocatedthreestepsdownfromthedoor.WhenIhitthebottomstep,the
washer and dryer came into view. And the huge pile of clothes my brother had left
unwashed.

“LeastIwon’tbebored.”

Iglancedattheoldfurnace.Ithadseenbetterdays.

Please,God.Letitjustbethepilotlight.

Ibentatthewaistandpeeredthroughtheslatscoveringtheinternalworkings.Icould

seeaflamedancinginside,alongwithmybreath.

“SweartoGod,ifIcan’tfindsomeonetofixthistoday,youaredeadmeat,Gregg.”

I headed for my phone on the first floor. “Fingers crossed,” I mumbled, then googled

HVACcompaniesinthearea.Iwashalfwaythroughthelistingsbeforeagruffmalevoice
bitout,“ThisisKnight,”insteadofarecordedmessage.

“Areyoureal?”Iasked.

Therewasapause.“Iain’tSantaClaus,lady.So,yeah,IguessIam.”

“I would be forever in your debt if you had time to come and fix my heater, Mr.

Knight.”

“Today?”heasked,non-plussed.

“YES,PLEASE!”Iansweredwithjustahintofdesperation.“I’mreally,reallycold.”

“Icanbetherewithinthehour.Givemeyournameandaddress.”

“Anna,”Isqueakedout,shockedthatmyluckhadchanged.“Thankyousomuch.Ihate

taking you away from your family on Christmas Eve, but like I said, I’m really, really,
reallycold.”

“Igotthat,”heanswered,andIcouldhearasmileinhisvoice.“ButIstillneedyour

address,Anna.”Therewassomethingaboutthewayhesaidmyname.Itwassmoothand
heady,andalittlebitsweetaroundtheedges,likedarkchocolate.

“1430E35

,”Ianswered.

“Gotit.Actually,you’rereallyclose,soI’llseeyousoon,”hereplied,thenhungup.

Iheadedforthekitchenandcoffee.Ineededtohaveallmyfacultiesfunctioningwhile

dealing with a repair man. I’d heard too many stories about women getting ripped off
wheninrealityit’sjustasimplefix.

Lukestaredatthetwo-storyhomeandshookhishead.Theboneswerestillgood,butthe
formerbeautyhadseenbetterdays.Theroofwasold,thewindowsillswererotting,and
theyardhadn’tbeentendedtoinyears.Tosayhewasconfusedwouldn’tbeastretch.He
wasn’t sure what he’d expected after talking to the woman, but he’d admit the sound of
her voice had made him smile, so seeing how little she cared for her home was
disappointing.

Hetriedtoopenhisdriver’sdooroutofhabit,thenremembereditwasstuckfromthe

accident. Annoyed all over again, he scooted across his console, then turned and kicked
outwithhisfootratherthanexitingthepassengersidedoorlikehehadthepastthreedays.
Itpoppedopenwiththeforceofhiskick,soheclimbedoutandtriedtoshutit.Themetal
whineditsdisapprovallikenailsonachalkboard,refusingtoclose.

“MerryfuckingChristmas,”Lukemumbled,thengrabbedhistoolsfromthebackofhis

truckandheadedforthefrontdoor.

Heneededtofindthecardthatassholehadgivenhimandcallhisinsurancecarrier.He

wasn’tabouttodrivearoundwithhisdoorwiredshut.

Asheapproachedthefrontdoor,hesawmovementinside,soheknockedlightlytolet

herknowhe’darrived.Heheardhermumble,“Shit,”nonetoquietly,andhegrinned.

Heexpectedaquickresponse,consideringshewasrightontheothersideofthedoor,

sohenarrowedhiseyeswhenitdidn’topenandknockedagain.

Sherespondedthistime,throwingopenthedoorwhiletuggingonanoversizedsweater.

Thenhefroze.Annawasn’tjustanotherbrokenfurnace.ShewasfuckingGoldilocksfrom
theaccident.

Godtrulyhatedhim.

Hereyesgrewwideatthesightofhimashetookinherridiculousoutfit.Itwasn’tbad

enoughthatthesweaterhungtoherknees,orthattheflannelPJslookedlikesomething
hisgrandmotherwouldwear.No,theworstfuckingpartwastheyellowduckslippersthat
had seen better days. The whole package from head to toe caused his lip to twitch. She
looked down-home, not prissy. Laid back rather than some stuck-up social climber who
normallylivedinthearea.Hecouldseehimselflyingonthecouchwithhersnuggledup
to his side, a fire roaring to keep them warm as they relaxed, content in each other’s
company.Anditpissedhimrightthehelloff.Somethingabouthermadehimwantthings
he’dgivenupon.Madehimfeelthingshethoughthe’dlockeddeep,andforthefirsttime
inyears,hisheartracedwithwant.Butshewasoutofhisreach.Alreadytakenbyanother
man.

“Gregg’s not here,” she blurted out, pushing her mass of silky curls behind her back.

“Helefttownandwon’tbebackuntilafterNewYear’s.”

Thatstoppedhiminhistracks.“Comeagain?”hebitout.Notonlywastheguyashit

driver,hewasanassholeaswell.WholeaveshiswomanduringChristmaswithnoheat?”

“Idon’tthinkhe’shadachancetocallhisinsurancecarrier.”

“I’mheretofixyourfurnace,”hesnapped,thenwalkedforward,backingherupwith

hisbodyashepushedthroughthefrontdoorwithoutinvitation.Hetriedlikehellnotto
lookatherasheentered,orregisterthewayherbottomlipwastuckedbetweenherteeth.

Before he turned to face the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, he hardened slightly as her

warmbreathkissedthesideofhisneckasshegaspedandsaid,“You’reMr.Knight?”ina
breathyvoice.

“Yeah. Lucas Deacon Knight. Luke, for short,” he bit out, trying to control his body.

“Where’sthefurnace?”

“Um,” she mumbled, then looked down at her attire. “You got here quicker than I

thought.”

“ItoldyouIwouldseeyousoon.”

“Right. Right,” she mumbled, then bit her lip again, tugging on the ugly sweater to

coverherPJs.“Um,doyouwantcoffeebeforeyoustart?”

Hisbrowspulledtogether.“No.”

“Toast?”sheaskedatadhysterically.

Hisbrowsshotupandhegrowled,“No,”inexasperation.

He’d never been fed on a job before, so what was her game? Because he sure as hell

didn’twantanythingthatwouldkeephimtherelongerthanneedbe.Hewantedtofixthe
damnfurnaceandgetthehelloutoftherebeforehecrossedalinehecouldn’tstepback
over.He’dnevermadeamoveonanotherman’swomaninhislife.Buthewasprettysure

those damn slippers quacked when she walked. And if they did, that might just be his
undoing.

Luke scanned her from head to toe again. He had to clench his jaw to keep from

smiling.Shewasahelplessmessofgoldencurls,bigblueeyes,andaninnocencethatset
hismolarstogrinding.

“Um…wouldyoumindterriblyifIchangedbeforeIshowedyoutothebasement?”

shepleadedkindabreathlesslywhenshecaughthimlooking,andhisjawalmostsnapped
intwo.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

He minded for two reasons. One, it kept him there longer and he needed distance to

controltheurgehehadtobackherintoawallanddrinkheavilyfromherlips.Andtwo,
hewasselfishenough,despitehisneedtoleave,thathedidn’twanthertochangeoutof
thosefuckingduckslippers.

Sheblinked,asconfusedashewasbyhisreply,thenturnedonherheelandquacked

herwayupthestairs.

“Fuckme,”Lukesighed,droppinghisheadback,fightingforcontrol.“Merryfucking

Christmas.”

Six

Iskiddedtoahaltinfrontofmymirrorandgroanedatmyreflection.Whycouldn’tIbea
silky nightgown kind of woman? I mean, if I was gonna get caught in my sleepwear,
somethingsexywaspreferabletomymother’sflannelPJs.

“Youstillwouldn’thavewornit,”Itoldmyreflectionandbeganstripping.Isleptinthe

nudewhileIlivedinFlorida,butwithwhatthetemperaturewashere,andnooneseeing
me in the mornings, I’d worn them for comfort as much as needing to feel close to my
mother.

Justfindsomethingattractiveandgetdownstairs.

“LucasDeaconKnight,”Imumbled.Itwasagreatname,anditfithimtoaT.

IknewIwouldrunintohimagain,buthisshowinguponmydoorstepfeltalittlelike

Janehadsaid.Destiny.

I pulled on a fuzzy pink sweater and jeans, then tried to manage my heavy mane of

curlyhairthatneverwantedtocooperate.Isettledonaponytailsinceitwasquickest,then
lookedlonginglyatmycosmeticbag.Ididn’thavetimeformakeup,butacoatoflipgloss
was a must, so I dug inside until I found my favorite nude shade with just a hint of
strawberryflavoring.

I started to head back downstairs, but I spied my perfume sitting on the counter, so I

dousedmyselfliberallywiththesoftscent.

Heregoesnothing.

I found Luke where I’d left him, standing by the front door. As I descended the

staircase,hestudiedmewithacool,measuringgaze,butthenhisjawseemedtotighten
andhiseyesflared.Myheartspedupashetookinmymeasure,andIstumbledabiton
thebottomstepfromhisexpression.

IsthatappreciationIseeinhiseyesorloathing?

“Sorry.Ididn’tmeantotakethatlong,”Iapologized.

“Justshowmetoyourbasement,”hebitoutonahalf-growl.

Iswallowedhard,nervousabouthisdemeanor,thenwalkedtowardthekitchenwithmy

heartinmythroat.Theroomfeltchargedwithstrongemotions,themostpredominantone
beinganger.

Myheartsank.

Definitelyloathing.

Somehow,I’dinsultedhim.

I’d left the light on downstairs, so when I opened the basement door, I kept right on

goingdownthesteps,takingdeepbreathstocontrolthenervousshuddersrollingthrough

mybody.

“Youdon’thavetocomewithme.Icanfinditfromhere,”hemumbledashetookthe

stepstwoatatime,walkingpastmewithoutasmuchasaglanceinmydirection.

Iblinked.Hewasdismissingme.

Ifollowedhimwithmyeyesasheheadedforthefurnace,wonderingwhatIhaddone.

Maybehe’sjusthavingabadmorning?IhadcalledhimoutonChristmasEve.

“I’m happy to stay and help,” I said, smiling brightly, hoping a cheerful tone would

breaktheice.“Icouldhandyouyourtools.”

I’dwalkedupbehindhimasIspoke,thenleaneddowntolookinsidethefurnaceashe

took the panel off. He turned to look at me as I scrunched my nose at all the cobwebs
hanging from the wires and fittings. My brother’s constant traveling could be seen in
everyinchofourparents’home.Hehadnotimeforgeneralmaintenance,letalonehaving
theroofreplaced.Guessitwastimeformetolearnhowtouseascrewdriver.

When I turned my head to look at Luke, my breath caught at how close I was to his

face. I could smell his distinct scent again, and had to stop myself before I took a deep
breathtopullitintomylungs.Atthisdistance,hewouldknowwhatIwasdoing.

Surprisingly,hesuckedadeepbreathintohisownlungsasourgazeslocked,thenhis

eyesdartedtomylipsbeforeflashingwithanger.

“I’vegotitcovered,”hesnappedintensely,thenwentbacktowork,dismissingmeyet

againasiftheideaofspeakingtomewasdistasteful.

Iswallowedhardandbackedupastep,humiliated.“Ismybrotherhittingyourtruckthe

reasonwhyyou’resorudetome,orareyougenerallythismuchofascrooge?”Ibitoutin
self-defense. I’d been nothing but nice to this man, but he was just an asshole in Prince
Charming’sclothing.

Lesson learned: if they look that good, there’s probably a reason why they’re still

single.

Luke’s head snapped around, confusion written across the blankness of his eyes.

“What?”heaskedalmostinawhisper,thenhisbrowsroseinalookofdisbelief.“What
doyoumean,yourbrother?”

“Youknowwhat?Nevermind.I’msorryIbotheredyouonChristmasEve,”Ireturned

withheat,backinguptowardthestairs.“I’llgetoutofyourhairwhileyoufixmyfurnace.
Youcanshowyourselfoutwhenyou’redone.Justbillme,andI’llgetthecheckrightout
toyou.”

I turned briskly, sprinting up the stairs. I wanted to get as far away from him as

possible.AsfarawayfrommystupidattractionasIcouldget.

AsIhitthetopstep,Iheardhimmumble,“Jesus,”justasmycellphonebegantoring.I

rantoitlikeitwasalifeline,prayingsomeoneneededmeimmediatelysoIwouldn’thave
tofaceLukeagain.

ItsaidGreggcalling,andIsighedinrelief.HesomehowalwaysknewwhenIneeded

him.

“Miss me already?” I asked cheerfully, my voice steady even though my hands were

shaking with anger and humiliation. Luke was probably downstairs chuckling over the
foolishwomanwho’ddaredflirtwithhim.

“Anna?”afamiliarvoiceasked.

“Darryl?” It was my brother’s bandmate who’d been more than a little obvious about

hisfeelingsforme.He’devengoneasfarasflyingtoFloridaoncetoseeme.I’dmadeit
clearoverandoverthatIwasn’tinterested,butitneverseemedtosinkin.

“Yeah…”hesaid,hisvoicehesitant.

Thehaironmyneckbegantorise.SomethingwaswrongwithGregg,Icouldfeelit.I

knewitasclearlyasanybiologicaltwinknewwhentheirotherhalfhadbeenhurt.

“What’shappened?”Icriedout.

“Anna—”hewashedging,soIcuthimoff.

“Justspititout,”Ishouted,nearhysterical.“Whathappenedtomybrother?”

“Caraccident.WewereheadedhometosurpriseyouforChristmas,andgotcaughtina

snowstormjustoutsideofSpringfield,Missouri.”Iswallowedpasttheknotinmythroat,
petrifiedtoaskhimifGregghadsurvived.

IheardthesoundofLukecomingquicklyupthestairsandturnedtolookathim.He

pausedinthedoorway,hisgazesharpashewatchedme.Icouldn’ttearmyeyesoffhis,
neededthemtoanchormetorealityasIasked,“IsGreggdead?”inasmallvoice.

Darrylrespondedimmediately.“No.Butitdoesn’tlookgood.”

My legs gave out then, but before I hit the floor, Luke scooped me into his arms and

heldontight,mumbling,“I’vegotyou.”

“Whathospital?”Iaskedonautopilot,thankfulforthestrengthofLuke’sarms.

“MercyHospitalinSpringfield.He’sinsurgerynow.I’llcallyouwhenhe’sout.”

“I’mcoming.I’llleaveinthenexthour.Ijustneedtorentacar,thenI’llhittheroad.”

“It’smyfault,”Darrylwhispered.“Iwasdriving,givinghimshitabouthowhealready

hadanaccidentthisweek,andIlostcontrol.”

Ishookmyhead,whichhadcometorestonLuke’schestsomehow.“It’snotyourfault;

it’smine.IgavehimhellaboutleavingmeallaloneatChristmas.”Ichokedonthewords.
Ifmybrotherdied,I’dneverforgivemyself.“IfIhadn’tbeensoselfish,he’dbesafeinSt.
Louis.”

Seven

LukeheldontightlyasAnnashiveredinhisarms.Thedespairinhervoicerockedhimto
hiscore.Heknewwhatshewasgoingthrough,knewhowshefelt,andthepainhekept
lockedawaytheotherelevenmonthsoutoftheyearrushedtotheforefront.Buthebeatit
backsohecouldfocusonthewomantremblinginhisarms.

“I’llcallyouwhenI’monmyway,”shesaid,hervoiceemotionless.Shewasinshock.

Heknewthesigns.

“Ineedtofindarentalcar,”shemumbled,pushingoutofhisarms,lookingforallthe

worldlikealostchild.Shewasinnoshapetodrivethethreehoursitwouldtaketoreach
Springfield.

“Youshouldn’tbedrivingthisupset,”Lukestated.

Sheglancedback,lookingrightthroughhimasifhewereaghost.Thenherbottomlip

begantotremble.“I…don’thaveachoice.”

“Anna,” Luke started to argue with her, but her shoulders began to shake as the tears

she’dbeenholdingbackbegantofall.

“He’sallIhaveleftintheworld,”shesobbed.“I’llwalkifIhaveto.I’mnotlettinghim

die alone,” she cried out, then shoved past him through the kitchen and headed for the
staircase.

Luke reacted on instinct and followed her up the stairs. “You’re not heading out on

thoseslickroadsonyourown.”

She spun around at his voice, surprised he’d followed her. “It’s Christmas Eve, Mr.

Knight.Myparentsaredead.Myfriendshaveallmovedaway,saveone,andshewentto
DallasforChristmaswithherhusband.IhavenooneIcancallontotravelwithme.”

He could hear the helplessness in her remark, knew how alone she felt in this world,

andheimmediatelywantedtobetheonepersonshecouldcounton.

“Myname’sLuketoyou,notMr.Knight,”heanswered,closingthedistancebetween

them.“Andyou’vegotme.I’lltakeyoutoSpringfield.”

Hereyeswidenedindisbelief.“Butyoudon’tevenlikeme.Whywouldyouhelpme?”

To answer her ridiculous question, his hand whipped out and closed around her neck

before he slammed his lips to hers. Her mouth opened in surprise, so Luke took the
advantagegiventohimandtastedherfully.Shefrozeatfirst,thenmeltedintohisarmsas
he drank freely from her silken lips. She tasted exactly like he’d expected her to. Fresh
andinnocent,withahintofpassionthatwasasaddictiveasanydrug.Butmorethanthat,
shetastedlikehope.

“I’mgoingwithyou,sostoparguing,”hewhisperedagainstherlips.He’dwantedher

fromthefirstmomenthelaideyesher.Therewasnowayinhellhewouldturnhisback

onhernow.Notwhensheneededhimmost.Hewasgoingandthatwasfinal.

He expected her to fight him anyway, but her eyes filled with tears instead, relief

writtenclearlyacrossherface.“I’msoconfused.Ithoughtyouhatedme.”

“No. I hated that you were unavailable,” he answered, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“I’venevergoneafteranotherman’swoman,butIwasseriouslyconsideringitwhereyou
wereconcerned.ItpissedmeoffthatIhadnoself-control,andItookitoutonyou.”

Herbrowspulledtogetherinconfusion.“Unavailable?”

“You and your brother don’t exactly look alike,” he pointed out. “I assumed he was

yourman.Itwasn’tuntilyoureferredtohimasyourbrotherthatIcluedin.”

ThementionofGreggbroughtbleaknessbacktohereyes,sohewrappedheruptightin

his arms to give her what solace he could. “Thank you for offering to go with me. But
won’tyourfamilymind?”

He tensed at the mention of his family. He kept clear of them for his own reasons,

mainlytheguilthecarried.Theywouldn’tmisshimanymorethisyearthantheyhadthe
lastfouryears.

“It’ll be fine. Get your things together, and I’ll be back to pick you up in twenty

minutes.”Shenoddedandbegantopullawayfromhim.“Hey,”hesaid,gentlygrabbing
her chin with his fingers. She looked up at him, searching his features. “Don’t give up
hope.Miracleshappendaily,butduringthisholiestofseasons,theyhappenhourly.Have
faith,”helied.HeknewGodwasn’tlistening,buthewouldn’ttellAnnathat.Maybeshe
had a direct line to the man upstairs that he didn’t. Because he sure as hell knew God
hadn’tlistenedtohisprayerswhenhe’dbeggedhimtosparehisnephew’slife.

It seemed appropriate that the skies had turned gloomy as Luke and I headed down the
turnpike toward Missouri. Luke had been true to his word and returned within twenty
minuteswithabagpackedandadifferentvehicle:asilverSUVheusedwhenhewasn’t
working.

I’dthrownwhateverIcameacrossthatlookedcleanintomysuitcase,thenusedmyarm

toliterallyclearmysinkofwhatIneededinasingleswipe.Iwasn’tentirelysureanything
I’dpackedmatched,orthatitwaswinterclothing.Imighthaveasuitcasefullofshorts
andT-shirts.

I clutched my phone in a firm grip as we crept along safely through the snow, my

knucklesturningwhiteasIwilledthedamnthingtoring,prayingDarrylwouldcallme
withgoodnews.

PeekingaglanceatLukeashenavigatedtheChristmasEvetraffic,myeyesdroppedto

his mouth. I hadn’t had time to process the kiss we’d exchanged. Hadn’t had time to

processthefactthathe’dkissedmeatall,oradmittedhe’dbeenanassholebecausehe’d
thoughtIwasinvolvedwithmybrother.Thatmademesmile.Greggwouldgetakickout
ofthefacthehadkeptamanfromaskingmeoutbecausehethoughtwewereacouple
ratherthansiblings.

“Pennyforyourthoughts,”Lukeasked.

Myeyesdartedtohis.“What?”

“Youweresmiling.”

Oh,dearLord.Iwasn’tabouttoadmitI’dbeenthinkingabouthimkissingme.

“IwasthinkingaboutGregg.”

“Itakeityou’reclose?”heasked,lookingatmebrieflybeforeturningbacktotheroad

withsharpeyes.ThecloserwegottoMissouri,theworsetheconditionsbecame,soLuke
didn’ttakehiseyesofftheroadforlong.

Answering him gave me an excuse to study his face, which had the added benefit of

takingmymindoffthefactthatDarrylhadn’tcalledback.

“As close as any full-blooded siblings. We were born one day apart to drug addicted

mothersatthesamehospital.GreggandIhadthesamecaseworker,who,thankfullyfor
us,hadbeenworkingwiththeStubbstogetthemapprovedasfosterparents.They’dnever
hadchildrenoftheirownanddecidedthatfosteringmightfillthatvoid.”

“Theygavetwodrugaddictednewbornstopeoplewithnoexperiencewithchildren?”

“Yes.Mostpeopledon’twanttotakeonbabieswhoarebornaddictedtodrugs.Butthe

Stubbsweren’tmostpeople.Theyweresuperparentsfromthemomenttheyheldusuntil
thedaytheyleftthisearth.”

Icaughthislipstwitchingslightlybeforehemumbled,“Superparents?”

“Beaver Cleaver parents. Dad had retired after a long career as an attorney, so they

devoted all their time to Gregg and me. Mom made sure we had dinner together every
night.Theynevermissedaschoolfunction.BothsatontheboardofthePTAeveryyear,
and they took us on vacations every break so we were well traveled. So you see, super
parents.”

“Soundslike,”hemumbled.

“Whataboutyourfamily?”Iasked.

Hisbodystiffenedatthequestion,thenhelookeddownatthegaugesonthedashand

mumbled,“Weneedgas.”

Icouldtakeahintaswellasthenextperson.Hewasn’twillingtotalkabouthisfamily,

yet,soIletitgo.

“So,you’reaheatandairguy?”Ifhisfamilywasofflimits,Icouldwait.ButIneeded

toknowmoreabouthim,sincehistonguehadbeeninmymouth,afterall.

“I’m a general contractor. I was covering for a friend who owns Green Country Heat

andAir.”

“So,youoverseeconstruction?”

“Yep.”

“Commercialorresidential?”

“Residential,”heanswered,thenlookedatme.“Whataboutyou?”

“I just finished my master’s degree in occupational therapy, but I haven’t found a job

yet.”

Hiseyesslidtomineforamoment,thenbacktotheroad.“Areyoulookingforwork

hereoroutofstate?”

Therewassomethinginthewayheheldhimself.Asifhewasholdinghisbreathashe

waitedformyanswer.

“Here.I’vealwayswantedtoworkattheLittleLighthouse.”

Hisposturerelaxedassuddenlyasithadstiffened.“Thenon-profitschoolformentally

andphysicallydisabledchildren?”

“Yeah.”

Luketurnedhisheadandlookedatmeforalongmoment,thenturnedhiseyesbackto

theroad.

“What?”Iasked.

“Justwonderingwhenyou’regonnasproutwings.”

Iblinked.“Pardon?”

Heglancedmywayagain,scanningmefromheadtotoe.“Angelshavewings,andI’m

prettyfuckingsureyouareone.”

Eight

“I’mnoangel,Luke,”Annastatedashepulledofftheinterstateforgas.“Butforthegrace
ofGod,Icouldhavebeenoneofthosechildrenbecauseofmymother’sdruguse.I’mjust
givingback.”

At the mention of God’s grace, Luke threw his SUV into park a little harder than he

shouldhave,andAnnaraisedabrow.“DidIsaysomethingtoupsetyou?”

Four years of pain and guilt, of keeping his mouth shut so he didn’t upset his family,

suddenlycamerushingtothesurface.“ExplaintomewhyGodsparessomechildrenand
notothers?WhyHewouldinflictpain—oranydisabilitiesforthatmatter—ifHe’ssofull
ofgrace?”Lukeasked,staringacrossthegasstation,notreallyseeingthosearoundhim.

He’d called her an angel because innocence and purity seeped from her like an aura.

Angelic, like he’d said. But she was too sweet and trusting for this bleak world in his
opinion.

“Only God can answer that,” she said cautiously, watching him. “But I believe that

children like those who attend the Little Lighthouse are put on earth to teach us how to
care for one another. When children with disabilities love you, it’s unconditional. They
don’tknowhowtoholdgrudgesorhate.Theyjustknowhowtolove,andinreturn,they
teachthoseofusaroundthemtolovefreely.”

Hischestburnedwiththeonequestionhewantedanswered.Thequestionhe’dneeded

ananswertoforfouryears,yetnoonesofarcouldgivehimone.“Whataboutchildren
who die? Explain to me how that teaches us anything except defeat and pain,” he asked
vehemently.

Anna’s eyes rounded at his tone, then softened with awareness. He could feel her

questionacrossthecab,feltthetensionriseinsidehisSUV,soheturnedhisheadtoavoid
hergaze.Heknewshe’dseetheguiltwrittenacrosshisface,justlikehediddailyinthe
mirror,andhedidn’twantherpity.

“Ithinkthosechildrenarethemostspecialofall,”shewhispered.

Hisheadwhippedaround,andhescowledather,thenbitouteachwordasifittasted

foul.“Youthinkachildbeingrippedfromhisfamilymakeshimspecial?”

Sheswallowedhardathisoutburst,thennodded,notbackingdownfromherbelief.“I

think,” she began nervously, “that God loves those children so much that He can’t be
withoutthem.IthinkHegivesthemtoparentswhoneedthatkindofblessingintheirlife,
butthencallsthemhomebecausetheirpreciouslightistoogoodforthisworld.”

Fouryearshe’dlookedforanexplanationthatprovedGodwasn’tcruelandunfeeling.

Orworse,didn’texistatall.Andwithafewshortsentences,thishalf-pintofawomanhad
givenhimhopeagain.

TheknotthathadformedinLuke’schestthedayhisnephewdiedeasedabit,andhe

tookafullbreath.Onehehadn’ttakensincethatexcruciatingday.Hewantedtobelieve
Anna;hewassofuckingtiredofhatingGod.

Whenhedidn’treply,shereachedacrossthecabandtouchedhisarm.“Hewantedto

protecthimfromevil,Luke,nothurtyou.”

Luke’s hand shot out and grabbed Anna by the neck, pulling her across the seat until

shewasrightinfrontofhim.Hedidn’tcrushhismouthtoherslikehehadearlier;instead,
he searched her eyes, looking deeply for the truth of her statement. Wanting more than
anythingtotrustherexplanation.

Shewasn’tlying,thatmuchwascertain.Hecouldseeintheircornflower-bluedepths

that she believed what she was saying. The knot in his chest loosened further, and he
closedhiseyes,leaninghisforeheadagainsthers.Fouryearsofangereasedslowlyasher
wordssankintothatdarkpitofdespairthatwashisconstantcompanion.

“Washeyourson?”shewhispered,raisingherhandtostrokehischeek.

“Nephew,”hechokedout.“Mysister’sson.”

“Whatwashisname?”

Itstuckinhisthroatforamoment,thenheanswered.“MatthewLucasKnight.”

“Well,thattellsmeallIneedtoknowaboutyou,then,”sheansweredwithconviction.

Hepulledbackatherreply,hisbrowscreasingacrosshisforehead.“Howso?”

“Achildthatspecialwouldhavetohaveanamazingmother.Onewhowouldwantto

namehersonaftersomeonesherespected.ShewantedMatthewtobelikeyou.”

Luke sucked air into his lungs to rein in his control, but it was no use. His emotions

were running hard and fast. Swirling like the storm around them. Years of self-inflicted
punishmenthadlefthimbitterandcold,butthankstoAnna,warmthsurroundedhimfor
thefirsttimesincethatawfulday.

Without caring who could see them, he took her mouth roughly, overcome with

emotionsandgratitudethatAnnahadwaltzedintohislife.Shemoanedlowinherthroat
ashedominatedhermouth,andhisbodyreactedinstantlytothehuskysound.Hecrushed
herfurtherintohischest,ignoringeveryonewhowalkedpasthisvehicleastheyheaded
insidetopayfortheirgas,butthesoundofhercellphoneringingbroughtanabrupthaltto
the kiss and both of them back to reality. Luke grabbed it from the floor where it had
landedandansweredinsteadofhandingittoAnna.Ifitwasbadnews,hewantedtobethe
onetobreakittoher.

“ThisisLuke,”hemutteredintothephone.“Annaiswithme.”

Therewasapausebeforeamananswered,“He’soutofsurgery.Theysaiditwentas

wellascouldbeexpected.Theyremovedhisspleenandsethisleg.He’salsogotachest
tubeforhiscollapsedlung.Doctorsaidthenexttwenty-fourhourswouldbecrucial.”

LukeexhaledinreliefandlookedatAnna.“He’saliveandoutofsurgery.Ifhemakesit

throughthenexttwenty-fourhours,he’llsurvive.”

Hopeburnedbrightlyinherblueeyes,thenthetearsbeganagain.

“We’ll be there in an hour and a half,” Luke advised, then hung up and pulled Anna

backintohisarms,listeningquietlyasshecriedsoftlyintohischest.

WearrivedatMercyHospitalasthesnowbegantofallagain.Thequietsurroundingusas
Luke reached out his hand for mine didn’t match my beating heart. The mixture of
emotionsIwasfeelingleftmyheadspinning.Iwasworriedaboutmybrother,terrifiedhe
wouldn’tsurvive.Yet,atthesametime,Iwashopefulthatwhatwashappeningbetween
Luke and I was the beginning of something real. I also felt guilt about my brother’s
condition,andashamedthatapartofmewasexcitedaboutLuke,whilehislifehungin
thebalance.

My breath caught as I slid my hand into Luke’s and his fingers curled around mine.

Therewassomuchstrengthinhistouch;itwasaddictiveandcomforting.Awomancould
easilyrelinquishcontroltoamanasstrongasLukeifshewasn’tcareful.

The halls were quiet as we made our way to the bank of elevators; the sound of my

boots echoing down the deserted hall reminded me of a prisoner being led to their
execution.Whentheelevatoropened,Isuckedinabreathandthenletitoutslowly,trying
toeasemyworriesbeforeIcameapartattheseams.

Greggwillbeallright,Ikeptrepeatinginamantra.Heistoofulloflifetodie.

The moment the doors closed, shielding us from the world, Luke turned me into his

bodyandlockedhisarmsaroundme.“Shhh.”Hemumbled,“It’llbeokay.”

My brows pulled together and I looked up at him. His face was blurry, so I blinked.

Wetnesscoatedmyfacewithslowdropletsoftears.I’dbeencryingandhadn’trealizedit.

“What if he dies?” I asked in a small voice, feeling like a child lost to an uncertain

world.TheverynotionthatGreggmightdieleftmeparalyzedwithfear.

“Don’tgothere,”hesoothedcalmly.“Worryingneverchangestheoutcome,andyou’ll

makeyourselfsick.”

The elevator doors opened to the ICU, but I didn’t move. “Are you leaving now?” I

prayeddesperatelyhe’dsayno.Iknewitwasselfishtoaskhimtostay,butIneededhis
strengthtogetthroughthenexttwenty-fourhours.

Luke’sfaceregisteredshockatmyquestion.“I’mnotgoinganywhere,”hevowed.“I

calledinafavor,somyfriend’sbusinessiscovered.I’mhereaslongasyouneedme.”I
buriedmyfaceintohischesttokeepfromcryingwithrelief.

Someone cleared their throat as we stood there, so I turned my head. Darryl was

holdingthedoorsopen.Hewasabigmanwithsandybrownhairandolive-greeneyes.He
playedkeyboardsforTheWranglerswhenhewasn’tplayingbouncer,whichwasalmost
nightly,sincetheirmusicattractedroughandtoughcowboyslookingtounwind.

He barely had a scratch on him, which amazed me. Then I remembered how many

times I’d read accounts of accidents where one person died and the other walked away
withoutasingleinjury.

HiseyesnarrowedonLukeasIbrokefromhisembrace.Istraightenedmyshouldersas

Iexitedtheelevator,andcarefullygavehimwhatIhopedwasasisterlyhug.Iwasalways
carefulnottoactinawaythatwouldleadhimon.Ofcourse,thatdidn’tstophimfrom
buryinghisfaceintomyhairashewhispered,“How’smyfavoritegirl?”

“Worried sick,” I returned, then stepped back unexpectedly into a solid wall of chest.

“HowsooncanIseehim?”Iasked,thenleanedintoLuke’swarmth.

“Not for another hour.” His eyes shot to Luke then, whose hands had come up and

restedonmyshoulders.“Whothehellareyou?”

IopenedmymouthtoanswerDarryl,butLukebeatmetoit.“LukeKnight.Whoyou

are?”

“Themanonthephone?”Darrylaskedforconfirmation,ignoringLuke’squestion.

Lukejerkedhischinupinanonverbalreply.

“You a new friend of Anna’s?” Darryl questioned suspiciously, with just a hint of

aggression.

“Morethanafriend,”Lukecorrected.

I should have moved away, but I stayed glued to my spot, rolling my eyes at the

testosteronefillingtheroom.

Menwereamysterytome.Forsomereasontheythoughtwhoeverthumpedhischest

andgrowledtheloudestwonthewoman.

It was no match in my opinion. Even though Darryl was a bruiser and probably

outweighedLukebythirtypounds,mymoneywouldstillbeonLuke.Helookedlikehe
usedhisbodydailyforaliving.Therewasn’tanounceoffatonhimthatIcouldsee,so
he’d be quick in a fight and wouldn’t tire easily. Not that I thought they would come to
blows,butitgavemesomethingtothinkaboutratherthanworryingaboutmybrotherfor
thenexthour.

“Howmuchmore?”Darrylcontinuedhisinterrogation.

Iansweredthen.Becauseitwasnoneofhisbusiness.“Thekindoffriendwhodoesn’t

makeitanyofyourconcern,Darryl.Justdropit.”

Luke’sarmcircledmyshoulders,andhepulledmefurtherintohisbody.

Darrylwatchedthemovewithnarrowedeyes.Hecaughthimselfwhenherealizedhe

wasstaring,andchuckledsoftly,shruggingasifitwasnobigdeal.“JustdoingGregg’s
jobwhilehe’sincapacitated.”

He was lying. I could feel it. But I let him have that. He knew there would never be

anythingbetweenus,butclearlyitdidn’tstophimfromplayingmyprotector.

“I’vegother,”Lukemumbledlow.“Youdon’tneedtoworryonGregg’saccount.”

Translation:Backoff.She’smine.

My heart skipped a beat, reacting to Luke’s possessiveness, and I leaned my weight

furtheragainsthisbody.IthadbeenalongtimesinceIhadanyonetoleanonotherthan
mybrother.

I realized as I relaxed against Luke’s chest that in the time they’d been having their

showdown, the knot that had been slowly choking me eased slightly for a few blessed
seconds.

“Thankyou,”IsaidtobothofthemwhenIrealizedwhatthey’ddone.

“Forwhat?”Darrylquestioned.

“FortakingmymindoffGregg,ifonlyforamomentortwo.”

“How’dwedothat?”

I raised my hand and motioned between them. “The whole ‘lifting your leg to mark

yourterritory’routine.”

Lukechuckledbehindme,therumbleinhischestvibratingthroughmybody.Butthe

calmI’dfoundinhisarmswasshort-lived,becauserightthenanurgentvoicecameacross
theintercom,stating,“Codeblue.ICUroom12.”

When Darryl shouted, “Fuck, that’s Gregg!” I bolted toward the ICU and past the

nurses’station,ignoringthemastheycalledoutafterme.WhenIreachedroom12,Icame
toascreechinghalt,watchinginhorrorasadoctorplacedadefibrillatoronGregg’schest.

Nine

The whispered sound of Anna’s voice broke through the silence of the hospital chapel.
Luke sat quietly in a pew, keeping his eyes trained on Anna as she lit a candle for her
brother.ShewasprayingwitheverythingshehadthatGodwouldsparehislifeafterhis
hearthadstoppedbrieflyafewhoursbefore.

A day ago, he might have scoffed at the idea that God was listening, but then Anna

walkedintohislife,andnowhewasn’tsure.Thewayshereachedinsideandtouchedhis
hardened heart, making him come alive for the first time in years, felt more like divine
interventionthanfate.

AshewatchedAnna,herealizedhewasinachapelmuchliketheonehe’dsatinmore

thanfouryearsagowhenhehimselfbeggedforMatthew’slife.Hadhecomefullcircle?
WasGodfinallyansweringhim?Andifso,whatwasthemessage?

Anna turned her tear-soaked eyes in his direction, and he couldn’t help but notice the

darkcirclesunderneath.Itwasclosinginonten,andsheneededsleep.

His growing need to protect her in every way had him standing and holding out his

handtoher.“Let’sgetyoutoahotelsoyoucanrest.”

“Ican’tleave.WhatifsomethinghappenswhileI’mgone?”Hereyeslookedpanicked

asshetuggedonhercoat.

“Anna, they only let you in for ten minutes every two hours, and visiting hours don’t

start again until ten a.m. There’s a Marriot within walking distance of the front of the
hospital. We can leave your cell number with the nurses, and they’ll call you if his
conditionchanges.”

Shebitherbottomlip,uncertain,lookingyoungerandmorefragilethanhe’dseenher.

Christ,she’skillingme.

“Baby, look at me.” She raised her head but looked at his shoulder. “Hey,” he said a

little louder until her eyes met his. “You won’t be any good to him if you’re exhausted,
and right now, you’re running on fumes. Take my hand and let me care of you.” She
hesitatedforamoment,thennoddedandreachedouttotakehishand.

He led her back to the ICU so she could check on her brother one last time before

leaving.Thenursestookpityonher,sinceitwasaftervisitinghours,andallowedherto
visitGregg.Lukehadabadfeelingitwasbecausetheydidn’tthinkhe’dlastthroughthe
nightafterhishearthadstopped.

Hestoodoutsidetheroomandlistenedassheheldherbrother’shand.

“Ineedyoutowakeup,Gregg,”shesaidverysternlyastearsfell.“You’renotaquitter.

You didn’t quit fighting when you were born addicted to drugs. You didn’t quit fighting
whenyouhadtroublelearningtoread.Andyoucertainlydidn’tquitfightingwhenJenny

Stevensrefusedtogooutwithyouourjunioryear.”

Luke’s eyes turned to the heart monitor as it began to beep a little faster. If he didn’t

knowbetter,he’dswearGreggcouldhearAnnatalking.

“YouowemeforleavingtownduringmyfirstChristmasbackhome.Sosuckitupand

openyoureyes.”

Themonitorbeepedfasteryetagain,andAnnalookedatit,thenbackatLuke.Hecould

see the hope in her eyes, so he nodded, smiling at her. She continued in that vein,
browbeatinghimtowakeup,untilanursetoldthemitwastimetoleave.

Whileshespokewiththenurses’station,lettingthemknowwhereshewouldbe,heput

inacalltotheMarriot.Thankfully,theyhadaroomavailable.Hedidn’taskiftheyhad
two. He had no intention of being more than a few feet away from her until Gregg’s
survivalwasguaranteed.Shecouldarguewithhimifshewanted,butitwoulddonogood.
Hewashershadowfortheduration.

Her brother’s friend Darryl was waiting for her to finish. The man didn’t hide his

feelingsforAnna—orhisaggressivenaturetowardLuke,forthatmatter.Itwaswrittenin
everylineofhisbodywhenshewasintheroom,sohekeptacloseeyeonhim.Whenthe
bigmanapproachedheraftershewasthroughspeakingwiththenurse,pullinghertoan
alcove, away from prying eyes, Luke pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against and
headedintheirdirection.

“Youcansendhimhome,Anna.I’lltakeyoubacktoTulsa,”Darrylmumbled,raisinga

handtotouchherhair.

Anna’sheadjerkedtothesidetoavoidbeingtouched,andLukequickenedhispace.

“Iappreciateallyou’vedoneforGregg,”Annasaidinastiltedvoice,“butI’llbefine.

MaybeyoushouldheadbacktoSt.Louis.”

“I’mnotleavingyoualonewiththisguy,”Darrylbitout,hisvoicecarryingacrossthe

room. “I knew his name sounded familiar. It’s the guy Gregg hit a few days ago. Jesus
Christ,Anna,youdon’tknowthisassholefromAdam.Whatthefuckareyoudoingwith
him?Andwhythehellarehishandsalloveryou?”

Anna’s face blanched at his tone just as Luke arrived. “You need to calm yourself,”

Lukegrowled.

“Andyouneedtogetinyourvehicleandleaveherthehellalone,orI’llmakeyou.”

Annagasped.“Leave,”shebitout.“Leaveanddon’tcomeback.”

Luke stepped in front her, putting himself between Anna and Darryl. “You heard the

lady.”

HecouldfeelAnna’shandsclutchingthebackofhisshirt,andtheyweretrembling.

“Youthinkyoucancomebetweenherandme?”Darrylaskedinavoicefullofrage.

Itwasneitherthetimenortheplaceforaconfrontation,soLukeraisedhishandsina

cease-fire,readytostepbacktokeepthepeaceintheICU.ButDarrylsawthemoveasa
potentialassault,andlungedatLuke,grabbinghiscollar.Hecouldtellbytheman’seyes

thathewasontheedge.SomeonewouldgethurtifLukedidn’tcalmthesituation,buthe
neededAnnasafefirst.

“Anna, get to the nurses’ station,” Luke ordered before Darryl lost it completely. She

didn’t hesitate to listen, darting past them in a wide arc to keep out of the crazed man’s
reach.

DarrylkeptholdofLuke’scollar,ignoringthehushedvoicesoftheothervisitorsinthe

waitingroom.

“Youneedtoleave!”Darrylthundered,hiscontrolslippingfurther.

“I’mhereaslongasAnnawantsme.”

ThecolorinDarryl’sfacerosetoapaleshadeoflethal,andLukebraced.He’dtakethe

man down if he had to, but he’d rather no shots were fired, not with Gregg twenty feet
awayfightingforhislife.

Then,justasquicklyasthemanerupted,hisdemeanorchanged,swingingfromhostile

toclam,likeamanondrugs.HeshovedLukeback,mumbling,“You’renotworthit.”But
itwasn’tintimetoavoidhospitalsecurityfromobservingtheaggression.TheyhadDarryl
strong-armedwithinmoments,askingLuke,“Doyouwanttopresscharges?”

Lukeshookhishead.“Justmakesureheleavesanddoesn’tcomeback.”

Anna watched from a distance as they slapped cuffs on Darryl, then she moved to

Luke’s side as hospital security took him to the service elevators and disappeared. Once
theyweregone,shelookedoveratLukewithanexpressionofpureindignation.“Andhe
wonderswhyIwon’tgooutwithhim?”

Lukecouldn’thelphimself.Hethrewhisheadbackandlaughed.

Thestillnessofthenightwrappedaroundthemastheymadetheirwayacrossthehospital
parking lot. The air was crisp, the hint of snow threatening. Luke kept an eye out for
Darrylastheypassedapinetree,itslimbsheavywithsnow.Annapausedatthetreeand
touchedthebranches.

“It’sChristmassoon,”shewhispered.“I’dforgotten.I’dmeanttoputatreeuptoday.”

“Inoticedyouhadn’tdecorated.”

“I didn’t see the need with Gregg out of town, but I wanted a small pine tree for my

parents’ornaments.”

Luke stepped in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “How long have

yourparentsbeengone?”

“Mom died six years ago from breast cancer,” she answered, brushing snow from a

lowerbranch.“Dadfollowedherfouryearslaterfromastroke.Thiswasgoingtobemy

firstChristmasinTulsasincehedied.”

Hecouldhearthelonginginhervoice.Thewantingofapastthatwasnolongerthere,

alongwiththeuncertaintyaboutherfuture.

“Let’sgetourbagsandgetyousettled,”hemumbled,aplanforminginhismind,then

hekissedthetopofherheadandledhertohisSUV.

Isatnumblyonthebed,tryingtoerasetheimageofGregg’sbodyconvulsingwithshock,
and brushed the tangles from my wet hair. Then my mind wandered to Darryl and his
irrationalbehavior,andIshuddered.I’dneverseenhimthatangry.

I’d taken a shower to try and relax from the trauma of the day, and when I emerged

fromthebathroom,Lukewasgone.Ishouldhavebeennervousaboutsharingaroomwith
him,butIwastookeyedupwithworrytocare.Whichwasgood,becauseinmyhasteto
getontheroad,I’dpackedmymother’sflannelPJs.IfLukehadharboredanythoughtsof
ussleepingtogether,myPJswouldstophimcoldinhistracks.

My brows creased with the thought. How could I even think about sex, when my

brotherlayfightingforhislifeafewhundredyardsaway?

“AndIcalledhimadeviant,”Imumbledtothequietroom.

Grabbingtheremote,IturnedontheTV.Itwassetonalocalnewschannel.Thestation

had decided to leave up a Santa Sighting app to alert children in the Springfield area.
Accordingtotheapp,Santawaswithinafewhundredmilesandclosingfast.

Ismiled,thinkingbacktomyownchildhoodandthewayGreggandIhadtriedtostay

awakeforthejollyoldelf.Wenevercaughthimintheact,ofcourse,butthememoriesof
abettertimeeasedmyanxiety.ForthefirsttimesinceDarrylhadcalledwiththenews,I
feltasenseofcertaintythatGreggandIwouldspenddozensmoreChristmasestogether.

Theairwascoolinsidetheroom,soIgotupandpulledonmyfather’ssweater.Iheard

thedoorclickopen,butIdidn’tturnaroundrightaway.Instead,Ikneeledonthefloorto
reachaslipperthathadmanagedtofinditswayunderthebed.

“Youweregonealongtime,”IsaidasIroseandturnedtofaceLuke.ThenIgasped.

Hewasstandinginthedoorwayholdingasmallpinetreethatstillhadsnowclingingto
someofitsbranches,staringatmelikehe’dfiguredoutthemeaningoflife.

“You bought a tree?” I asked stupidly, my heart beating rapidly at his thoughtful

gesture.

He moved into the room carrying a bag from Walgreens, then set the tree against the

wall.“Icouldn’tfindalivetreethistimeofnight.Luckily,Ialwayscarrytools,soIcut
oneofthesmallertreesdownfromtheparkinglot.”

Iblinked.“Youcutdownoneofthehospital’strees?”

“Youwantedatree,Igotyouatree,”hestatedwithashrug.

Ilookedatthebag,andheraisedit.“Iboughtacoupleofornamentsforyourparents

andbrother.”

Mynosebegantotingle,tearsfightingtheirwaytothesurface.“Youcutdownatree

andboughtornamentsformyfamily?”

“Yeah,”heansweredhesitantly,hiseyeshoodedwithcaution.“Isthataproblem?”

Warmth and something I couldn’t put a name to—except extreme wanting—rushed

through my body. Here was a man who had lost so much, yet he was still so full of
kindness. My heart swelled to the brim, beating fiercely in my chest. I knew at that
moment,IwantedhiminawayI’dneverwantedanotherman.SoIlaunchedmyselfat
him,wrappingmyarmsaroundhisneck,thenfoundhismouth.Startlebymyboldmove,
he dropped the bag, then pulled me hard against his body, opening his mouth to mine.
ThenhekissedmeuntilmymindblankedandallIsensedwashiswarmmouthandhot,
hardbody.

Ishovedhisjacketoffhisshoulders,thenbegantopullhisflannelshirtfromhisjeans

soIcouldrunmytonguealonghishardlinesandplains,buthecoveredmyhandswithhis
andstoppedme.

“Not like this,” he breathed out harshly, leaning his forehead against mine. “I don’t

wantyougivingyourselftomewhileyou’reupset,thenregrettingitlater.”

“Iwon’tregretmydecision,”Itoldhim,thenburiedmyfaceinhisneckandtouched

mytonguetohissaltyskin.HesuckedairsharplyintohislungsasInibbledmywayto
hisearlobe.

“Jesus,”hegroanedbeforegrabbingmyassandliftingmefromthefloor.Thenhetook

thethreestepstothebedandfell,twistingaswewentsoIlandedontopofhim.“Tellme
something,” he whispered into my ear, peeling my father’s sweater up my arms, then
twistingitsomyhandsweretrapped.“DoyoushopatTraderJoe’soften?”Hismouthwas
twitchingashewatchedformyreaction.

Busted.

“Um,”Imurmured.

He rolled me to my back and pinned my arms above my head, leaving the sweater in

placesoIcouldn’tusemyhands.“Youfollowedmethroughthestore,didn’tyou?”

I rolled my lips between my teeth. I was positive he hadn’t noticed me in the store.

“Youweren’tsupposedtorecognizeme.”

Hegrinned.“Ididn’tuntiltonight,butyoucrawledawayfrommeonyourhandsand

knees,leavingmewithaspecificview.Iwouldrememberthatassanywhere,baby.”

Iblinked.“YouwerewatchingmyasswhenIcrawledaway?”

Hismouthtwitched.“No,Iwaswonderingwho’dbecaughtdeadinthatsweater.ButI

didn’trecognizeituntilyouwereonyourkneesjustnow,soI’massumingitwasyourass

thatcaughtmyattention,notthesweater.It’sagreatass,bytheway,”hesaidsmoothly,
then nipped my lips before burying his face in my neck. “I think we should get some
sleep.Thesunwillbeupinnotime.”

Hewastryingtodistractme.ThoughtIneededmoretimetodecideifIwantedtosleep

with him. Most men would have taken the advantage I’d given Luke, but even though I
couldfeelhishardnesspressingagainstmystomach,hewasstillgivingmetimetochange
mymind.

Mymotherusedtosaythereweretwotypesofmeninthisworld.Realmen,andboys

with hair on their upper lip. The second type clings to their women, wanting to be
motheredandtakencareof.Basicallyhavetheirasseswipedforthem.Realmen,shesaid,
put their women and children first. They are the hunters among men. The alphas who
standbetweenyouandtherestoftheworldbecausetheirwholefocus,theirwholereason
forbeing,isyou.

Luke,notthatI’dhadanydoubtsbefore,wasarealman.Andhisefforttoprotectme

was futile. I wanted him more than ever for the very reason he held me now at arm’s
length.

Wrenching my hands from where they were pinned, I threw the sweater to the floor,

grabbedhisface,andthenpulledhismouthbacktomine.

“Ineedyouinsideme,”Ibeggedagainsthismouth.“IknowwhatI’mdoing.Ipromise.

Ijustneedtofeelaliveforonceinsteadofaloneandscared.Please, Luke. Please make
mefeelalive.”

Luke’s eyes blazed instantly, then he captured my lips in a deep kiss that curled my

toes,asrawdesireignited.

My hands moved to his shirt and began to unbutton it, desperate to feel his skin.

Momentslater,hisbarechestwasallIcouldsee,andIranmyhandsdownthetautflesh
coveringhardsteel.

LukehissedatmytouchasifI’dburnedhim,thenkissedmedeeper,histonguefighting

fordominancewithmineashepushedmytopuptorunfeather-lighttouchesupmyside.

I needed to feel his skin on mine, but my flannel PJs were in the way. Our thoughts

seemedtobeinsync,though,becauseLukegrabbedthehemofmytopandpulleditup
untilmybreastswereondisplay.Thenheloweredhismouthtomynipple,suckingdeeply
untilmybloodrushedtothesurface,sensitizingitfurtherasitsearedhotlyinresponse.

Like a switch had been flipped, my body reacted and a dull ache began to pulse

betweenmylegsasawhimperofneedspilledfrommylips.

Liftingmyhips,searchingforfrictiontoeasethebuildingneed,Iwrithedonthebedas

hishotmouthmovedtomyotherbreastandattackedmyneglectednipple.

Luke breathed, “Shhh,” against my breast as I squirmed uncontrollably, then my

bottoms were gone and his mouth was on me. Sweet torture assaulted me as his tongue
dancedacrossmyheat,pushingmeclosertorelease.

My hands tangled in his hair as he flicked his tongue against my swollen flesh. Need

burninghotterwitheachcaress.Iwouldexplodesoonifhedidn’tgivemewhatIwanted;
fillingmeuntilIfeltwhole.

“Luke,please,”Ibegged.

Withagrowl,hestrippedofftherestofhisclothes,centeredhimselfagainstmycore,

and then surged forward until he was sheathed fully. Then he moved, and I thought I
woulddiefromthesheerblissofit.

Ten

LukeknewwhenhekissedAnnathefirsttimethatsheheldbackapassionatenature.But
hewasn’tpreparedforhowmuchshewouldbringouthisown.Herhuskyvoicesetfireto
himinawayhe’dneverexperienced.Justthetouchofherhandonhisskinsentshivers
rollingthroughhisbody.

Hersilkenheatclampedaroundhimgreedilyashetriedtopacehimself.Hewantedto

bringhertoclimaxwithhim,butshewasmakingitfuckinghardthewayshemewledlow
inherthroatwitheachthrust.

Rollingtohisback,hebracedherlegsoneachsideofhiships,thendroveupuntilthey

foundarhythmthatwasnothingshortofheaven.

Herbreathhitchedwiththedeepthrust,andshethrewherheadback,thencuppedher

breasts in an offering no man could ignore. He knifed up until he had a pebbled nipple
back in his mouth, and then sucked deep as she rode him. She unleashed on him as he
drewonhernipple,buckinghardagainsthiscockrepeatedly.

Frustrationseemedtospillfromherassherockedsloweragainsthim,whimperingas

shetriedtoreachforherclimax,sohereachedupandgrabbedhershoulders,anchoring
herinplace.

Shewastookeyedupfromthelongdaytoletgo.

“Lookatme,”heordered.

Herheadcamedown,andhepinnedherinplacewithhiseyes.Shelickedherbottom

lip, panting from exhaustion, and his cock hardened further at the thought of that pink
tonguewrappedaroundit.

Hegrabbedherhandandbroughtittotheirconnection,wrappingherfingersaroundhis

cockashefoundherclitwithhisthumbandrolledit.“Youwannafeelalive?”heasked,
slippingoutthenbackintoherheatasherhandgrippedhimfirmly.“Thentrustme.”

Asobbroketheair,followedbytearsofgriefandexhaustion,soherolledAnnaonto

herbackandkissedherdeeplyuntilsherelaxedintohim.Thenhebeganaslowpacethat
builtintoawhite-hotheatshecouldn’tignore.

“That’s it,” he praised as her body relaxed and found a smoother rhythm. “Just feel,

don’tthink.”

Heknewshewasclosewhenhernailsdugintohisback,soheincreasedhispaceuntil

hehadtogrithisteethtokeepfromemptyinghimselfintohersweetheat.

Whenherbackarchedashedroveintoherharderandhermouthopenedonasilentcry,

he let go, and they both fell off the precipice into a kaleidoscope of sensations that was
nothingshortoflife-affirmingforthebothofthem.

Lukecollapsed,rollingtohissideasAnnashudderedwithaftershocks.Buthekepther

anchored to him, his cock still buried deep inside as she clung to him. Then the tears
beganagain,sohewrappedheruptightlyandheldonwhileshecriedonhischest.

“That’swhatitfeelsliketobealive,”hemumbledinherearasherbreathcalmed.He

shouldknow;hehadn’tlivedforthepastfouryears.

Asifshereadhisthoughts,shequestioned,“Haveyoubeenliving?”thentouchedher

lipstohischest.

Hefelttheoldguiltbegintorise,butheshoveditdowneasilyasthewomaninhisarms

rubbedherfaceagainsthischest,andansweredwithouthesitation,“No,Ishutdownafter
Matthewdied.Itwasmyfault.HegotoutofhiscarseatwhileIwasdrivingand…”He
clearedhisthroattocontinue,“Andthewindowwasdown.”

Shetensedhearinghisexplanation,thentouchedherlipssoftlytohischestagain.“I’m

sosorry,Luke.”

“Yeah. Me too. Matthew was special, like you said. I blamed myself for my sister’s

loss.FeltlikeIdidn’tdeserveahappylife.”

Shelookedupintohiseyes,thensearchedhisface.“Whataboutnow?”

Lukerolledtillhehadherpinnedbeneathhim.“C.S.Lewisoncesaidthat‘Whenwe

loseoneblessing,anotherisoftenmostunexpectedlygiveninitsplace.’I’mthinkingthat
thedayyourbrotherslammedintomytruckwasthedaythesecondblessingwalkedinto
mylife.”

Anna’seyesbegantotearup,andherbottomliptrembled.Shereachedupwithhersoft

handandcuppedhischeek,thenranherthumbacrosshislips.“MerryChristmas,Luke,”
shesaidtenderly,thenleanedforwardandcapturedhislipsinthesweetestkisshe’dever
receivedinhislife.

Myphonerangasthebrightnesscreptbeneaththecurtainsshieldingthehotelroomfrom
thesun’searlymorninglight.

I launched myself across Luke’s body, reaching for my cell that was charging on the

bedsidetable.ThescreensaidMercyHospital.

“Hello?’Iansweredhesitantly,fearbloominginsidemychest.

“Ms.Stubbs?”afemalevoiceasked.

“Yes. Is my brother okay?” Luke rolled until his body wrapped around mine, then

tightenedhishold,givingmehisstrengthforwhatcamenext.

Shedidn’thesitatetoanswer.“Yes,ma’am.It’saChristmasmiracle,”sheinformedme

withasmileinhervoice.“He’sawakeandaskingforyou.”

Mybreathescapedinawhoosh,thenIbegantoshake.“Thankyou.Thankyousomuch

forsavinghislife,”Icriedwithasmile.“I’llbethereassoonasIcan.”

Luke’sbreathstutteredinresponsetomyreply,andhekissedmyshoulder,squeezing

meonceforsupport.

“Take your time,” she said, still smiling through the phone line. “He’s sleeping now,

andvisitinghoursdon’tstartforanothertwohours.”

“Thankyouso,somuch,”Isaidagain.“I’llseeyouinafewhours.”

IrolledtofaceLukeonceI’dhungupthephone,smilingbrightly.“Shesaiditwasa

Christmasmiracle,”Iexclaimed,thenslammedmymouthoverhisandkissedhimwithall
Iwasworth.

LukepulledbackafterIbrokethekissandsearchedmyface,runninghisthumbacross

mycheektobrushawaymytearsofjoy.

“MerryChristmas,angel.”Luke’svoicerumbledinhischest.

Irestedmychinonmyhandsandstaredbackathim.“Whydoyoucallmeangel?”

“’Causeyou’retheclosestthingtoheavenI’veseeninmylife.”

Agrinpulledacrossmymouth,thefirstrealoneI’dhadsincereceivingDarryl’scall.

“Youknow,whenyoudropthewholeScroogepersona,you’reaverysweetman.”

Lukechuckled,rolledmetomyback,andthenburiedhisfaceinmyneck.“Iseemto

recallthatwhenScroogegainedhishumanityback,hewasvery,very,accommodatingto
thoseinhislife.”

“Howaccommodating?”Iaskedbreathlessly.

“Let’sfindout,”Lukewhisperedintomyear,thengavemethesecondbestChristmas

presentI’dreceivedthatmorning.

Eleven

ItuggedLukefromthehospitalgiftstore,smilingattheteddybearI’dboughtmybrother.
ItwasChristmasDay,soIcouldn’tgoinempty-handedtohisroom.Iwasscanningthe
shelves,lookingforsomethingthatremindedmeofGregg,whenIcameacrossastuffed
bearthatwasholdingaguitar.Itwasperfect,sinceGreggwasnothingbutabigoldteddy
bearwhereIwasconcerned.

IwaslightonmyfeetasIbouncedimpatientlyfortheelevatortotakeusuptotheICU.

Lukegrinned,hishandatmynecksqueezinglightlyinresponsetomymood.Onefloor
from the ICU, the doors opened and the hospital chapel came into view as an elderly
couplesteppedinsidetheelevator.Luke’shandsqueezedmyneckagain,andIlookedup
athim.

“I’llberightup,”hesaid,lookingatthechapeldoors.

MyeyessoftenedandIwhispered,“Takeyourtime.”

He looked back at me and brushed a kiss softly across my mouth before he exited,

winkingatmewithheatinhiseyesasthedoorsclosedandhedisappearedfrommysight.

My whole body warmed in response. I was in trouble if a single look could sear my

bloodsoeasily.

Iheadedtothenurses’stationandsignedinonceIarrivedattheICU,thenpractically

rantomybrother’sroom.HiseyeswereclosedwhenIentered,butthebreathingtubethat
hadkepthimalivethenightbeforewasgone.

Iwatchedashebreathedonhisown,countingthetimeshischestroseandfell,holding

myownbreathasIwaitedforthenextrise.

“You gonna stand there and watch me sleep, or get your pale ass over here?” he

whisperedwithadry,scratchyvoice.

Thesobthatescapedmythroatmadehimsmile.Onlyabrotherwouldgetakickoutof

seeinghissistercryoverhim.

“You’resuchanass,”Ihiccupped,draggingachairwithmetositnexttohisbed.

His hand reached out weakly until I grasped it and squeezed. “Anna Banana,” he

mumbled.“WhythehellwouldyoubringupJennyStevensasareasonformetolive?”

Hewasdefinitelyfeelingbetterifhewasreadytoarguewithme.

“Youfoughtforher,”Idefended.“Youweredesperatetogooutwithher.”

“Iwantedtonailher.Shehadthebiggestbreastsinourclass.”

Iblinked.“Deviant,”Isnapped.

Hiseyesclosedandhesmiled.“I’mjustpullingyourleg.Jennywasmyideal.Iwasn’t

hers.Itbrokemyheartwhenshesaidno.Justsoyouknowfornexttime,bringingupmy

failurecouldhavekilledme,”hesaidwithagrin.

Alumpformedinmythroatatthethoughtofanexttime.“Iwouldneverhavesurvived

losingyou.”

Oneeyeopenedtolookatme,anditglared.“That’sanotherreasontohateDarryl.”

Mybrowcreased.“Anotherreason?”

“It’sbadenoughthatthefoollostcontrolbecausehepoppedpillswhileIwassleeping.

Butheputyouthroughhell,too.”

“Darryltakesdrugs?”

Greggnodded.“Ithoughthehadcontrolofit,buthedoesn’t.Hetooksomethingwhile

Iwasasleep,andwhenIwokeup,Icouldtellhewastweaked.It’swhywecrashed.”

Anger burned deep in my gut. If I saw Darryl again, I wasn’t sure I would be able to

controlmyreaction.

“WhereisDarryl,bytheway?”

“He was escorted out last night by hospital security when he attacked Luke,” I said

withoutthinking.

“Serves him right. I’ll have to call a meeting with the band. If he’s unwilling to seek

treatment,we’llhavetoreplacehim.”

IthoughtI’dgottenawaywithmentioningLuke’sname,butIwaswrong.

“Waitaminute,”Greggsaid,openingbotheyes.“Who’sLuke?”

Iswallowed.Wouldherakemeoverthecoalsforjumpingheadfirstintoarelationship

afteronedayofknowingsomeone?

“Um, Luke Knight. The man you hit a few days ago. We met again while you were

gone,andnowwe’re…”Ishrugged,“exploringthings.”

“You’reshittingme?”hemumbled,hiswordsatadslurred.

“Nope.”

Hiseyesweregrowingheavywitheachpassingsecond,butheraisedasinglebrowat

meandshookhishead.“Figuresyou’dwaittofindsomeoneuntilIcouldn’treadhimthe
riotact.TellhimwhenI’mstronger,Iexpecthimtoexplainhisintentionstowardyou.”

Isnorted.“Whatareyou?Seventy?Whoreadsmentheriotactanymore?”

Hefinallyclosedhiseyes,slippingbackintosleep,butnotbeforehesqueezedmyhand

andmumbled,“Ido.’Causenoone’sgoodenoughformysister.”

Iwatchedhimsleepforafewmoments,reassuringmyselfthathewastrulyokay,thenI

brushedakissacrosshisforehead,laidtheteddybearI’dboughtinthecrookofhisarm,
andwhispered,“I’llbebackintwohours,”beforeslippingoutoftheroom.

Lukestillhadn’tcomeup,andsincehewasonlyonefloordown,Iheadedforthestairs

insteadofwaitingfortheelevator.

As I approached the chapel door, I could see through a small window that Luke was

sitting in a pew. I didn’t want to disturb him if he was making peace with God, so I
remainedoutsidethedoorandwatched.

Lukelookedathiswatchandnotedithadbeenfifteenminutessincehe’dleftAnna’sside,
then he stared back at the stained-glass window. Its colors were bouncing in prisms that
floodedtheroomashesatsilentlythinking.

He’d come to the chapel to say a prayer for his nephew while Anna visited with her

brother.Ithadstruckhimlikealightningboltastheelevatordoorsopenedtothechapel’s
floor that it was Matthew’s birthday, and for the first time since his death, Luke hadn’t
startedChristmasDaywithaburningguilt.Instead,he’dstartedthedaywithanangelin
hisarms,akissonhislips,andasmileonhisface.

Risingfromthepew,LukewalkedovertothealtarandlitacandleforMatthew,then

closed his eyes as a prayer slipped from his lips. The first he’d said in more than four
years.

“I’llneverunderstandyourwill.ButIrespectit.TakecareofMatthewuntilIseehim

again.Amen.”

Hestartedtoturnaway,thenathoughthithimandhepaused,lookingbackatChrist

hangingonthecross.

“YousentAnnatome,didn’tyou?”

Hedidn’texpectareply,buthegotoneanyhow.Ashestoodtherestaringatthecross,

warmth filled his chest; peace the likes he’d never known curled around him in a
comforting embrace. He closed his eyes again and let the feeling wash away any
remaininghatehe’dheldagainstGod.

Ashestoodthere,hefeltapresencebehindhim,likeawhisperofthewind,andturned

tofindAnnawatchinghim.

“Hesentyoutomeaswell.”

Luke sucked in a deep breath, then smiled. “Like I said, this time of year miracles

happenhourly.Lookslikewegotourfairshare.”

Epilogue

ChristmasDayoneyearlater

Greggwrappedhisarmsaroundmefrombehindandkissedmycheek.“MerryChristmas,
AnnaBanana.”

I raised my hand and wrapped my fingers around his arm, squeezing harder than I

shouldhave.“I’vetoldyouatrilliontimestostopcallingmeAnnaBanana.”

Hisansweringchucklewarmedmyheart.IcouldhavelosthimlastChristmas.Could

have lost a lot, thanks to Darryl. But instead, he did a short stint in jail for DUI, after a
bloodtestshowedhe’dbeenundertheinfluenceatthetimeoftheaccident.Andtherest
ofus?Well,wegainedsomuchmore.

Godhadseenfittosparemybrother’slife,andHehealedLukefromhisconstantguilt.

He’dblessedbothofuswhenHebroughtustogether,eachfindingwhatweneededfrom
theother.Ihadahomeandfamilynow,andLukehadasecondchancewithhisfamily,as
well. They’d all put away past hurts once Luke forgave himself, and they were moving
forwardtogether.

I searched the living room for my husband and found him speaking in hushed tones

withhissister,Jess.Theywerehuddledtogetherinthecorner,catchingupashisparents
satbythefirewithacupofcoffee,andJess’husbandheldtheirdaughter,Ashton,inhis
armsasshebattedatthetinselonourtree.

After we got married in June, Luke had sold his house and moved in with Gregg and

me, buying Gregg out of his share of my parents’ home. And he was painstakingly
renovatingthehousebacktoitsformerglorydays.

MyeyeswateredasIwatchedLukeandhissister.They’dlostsomuchatanearlyage,

butnowtheyhadasecondchancetobeascloseastheyoncewere.

I heard a whimper as they spoke, then watched with a lump in my throat as Luke

carefully took our three-month-old baby from his sister’s arms, kissing her on the cheek
beforehemadehiswaybackovertome.

God had seen fit to bless Luke and me with a baby boy, one conceived last year on

ChristmasDay.

“He’s hungry,” Luke said, handing me our fussy son, then his eyes turned concerned

whenhesawmyhappytears.“What’swrong,baby?”

IleanedinasMatthewLucasKnightwiggledinmyarms,andbrushedakissacrosshis

mouth.“MerryChristmas,Luke.Iloveyou.”

Hiseyesturnedmoltenatthetouchofmylips,andhishandcameuptograbmyneck,

pinningmeagainsthismouth.Iopenedforhimashetookoverthekiss,relaxingintohis

protectivewarmth.

“Loveyou,angel,”hewhisperedagainstmylips.Thenheleanedoverandplacedakiss

on Matthew’s head, whispering, “You’re my whole world, little man. You and your
mother.Ipromise,asGodasmywitness,thatI’llkeepyousafeforaslongasIlive.”

TheEnd

Luke:AScroogedChristmasispartofacollaboratedcollectionbytenauthorsthemed

aroundascroogedChristmas.Checkouttheblurbsattheendofthisbookforthe

followingcorrelatedauthors:FGAdams,JenniferDomenico,JessikaKlide,JuliaGoda,

MayraStatham,ReginaFrame,TracieDouglas,BSMStoneking,andWinterTravers.

Acknowledgments

ThankyoutoGiParr,TonyaPittman,MayraStatham,and

JuliaGodaforkeepingmyheadabovewater.

Ioweyou,andloveyouall.

AbouttheAuthor

CP Smith lives in Oklahoma with her husband and five children. She loves football,
reading, and card games. Writing for her is about escape. She writes what she loves to
read,andleavestheresttothosewithbetterimaginations.

YoucanreachMs.Smithat:

cpsmith74135@gmail.com

DiveintomoreScroogedChristmasstorieswiththesejoining

authors.Pleasenote:Thesestoriesareacollaboratedcollection

toAScroogedChristmas.Theyarestandalones,not

interconnectedstories.

Braxton–AScroogedChristmas

ByBSMStoneking

WhenhisparentsdieinacarcrashjustbeforeChristmas,andtheabusiveorphanagehe’s
senttogrowupinkickshimoutthedaybeforeChristmasEve,BraxtonScroogechooses
to leave the one person who completes him, leaving her in tears on Christmas Day, to
becomeacoldbig-shotmillion-dollarbusinessowner.

ForgettheGhostofChristmasPast.WithahistorylikeBraxtonScrooge’s,howcouldone
everenjoytheChristmasseason?

Braxtonregretsnothing—untilhistruelove,Gemma,re-entershislife.OnlytheGhostof
Christmas Future can give him the reality check he needs to stop being such a vengeful
scrooge—beforehelosesherforever.

Whenitcomestolove,therealquestiontoaskyourselfis,howfarareyouwillingtogoto
ensureyourpartnerstillfeelsyourloveevenafteryou’veleftherside?Becausethelove
BraxtonandGemmarekindlewillturnouttobethemostunconventionalloveyou’llever
find.

Brendan–AScroogedChristmas

ByJenniferDomenico

I hate Christmas. Hate. I have my reasons, none of which I talk about. Ever. It suits me
justfinetowallowinmiseryeveryyearfromlateNovembertoJanuary.Ijustwanttobe
leftaloneinmyquiethomefarawayfromthenonsenseoftheseason.

Unfortunately, one of Santa’s elves just bought the unit next to mine, sprinkling her
ridiculous festive spirit all over my perfectly insulated existence. But she can spread all
theChristmascheershewants.Ithasnoeffectonme.

Atleastthat’swhatIkeeptellingmyself

Daxton–AScroogedChristmas

ByJuliaGoda

DaxtonMcArthurisasuccessfulbutcoldbusinessman.Forreasonsheneverdiscusses,he
hasnotimeforthefrivolitiestheChristmasseasonbrings.Asurlymannormally,heturns
itupanotchwhenSanta’selvescomeouttoplay.Thisyear,thatpersonalityflawmight
costhim.

Insteadoffindingjoybyhelpingafriend,EmersynMoorefindsherselfbearingthebrunt
ofDaxtonMcArthur’sdisdain.Usuallyagood-naturedperson,Emersynispushedtothe
endofherpatiencebyhisscowlsandsneers.

Whenhe’sstrandedinthemiddleofasnowstorm,shefeelsobligatedtotakehimin.Itis
ChristmasEve,afterall.

Whathappenswhentwoworldscollideandthey’renotasdifferentastheythought?Will
the light Emersyn’s smile promises be enough to bring Dax back to life, or will he run,
foreverhidinginthedarknessofhispastmistakes?

Grayson–AScroogedChristmas

ByReginaFrame

GraysonDeckerisamanwithmanytitles.NewYork’sManoftheYear.NewYork’sMost
EligibleBachelor,butwhenhemeetsthefeistyAubreeLane,heearnsthetitleofScrooge.
WhenGrayson’sparentspushhimtomarryandevenforcetoassistinfindingtheperfect
wife,Graysontakesmattersintohisownhands.

AubreeLaneisacollegedropout,workingpart-timeinacoffeeshop,desperatetomake
ends meet, but finds herself in danger of eviction from her run-down apartment in a
sketchyneighborhood.WhenGraysonDeckersetshissightsonher,hemakesheranoffer
she can’t refuse or is it the other way around? When he offers her $50K to be his fake
fiancéeforthreeweeks,shethrowsawrenchintohisplan.She’llgoalongwithhisidea,
butitwillcosthim$100KandChristmasDinnerwithherfamily.

Whentheiragreementends,willhebeabletolethergo?Willsherefusetostay?

Luke–AScroogedChristmas

ByCPSmith

IfLukeKnightcouldchangeanythingabouthislife,itwouldbethedayhisnephewdied.
Filled with guilt, Luke lived a lonely existence. Until the day an angel crashed into his
truck…andstruckhisheart.

Anna Stubbs knew one thing without question: God has a reason for everything. Her
optimismandfaithshinefromwithin,andnomatterhowhardLuketries,hecan’tignore
it.

Whenlifethrowsanunexpectedcurveball,bothLukeandAnnawillneedtoreachdeep
inside themselves this holiday season, and learn to have faith that God is in control and
duckslipperstrulyareaman’sundoing.

Michael-AScroogedChristmas

ByF.G.Adams

Doholidaywishesreallycometrue?

For kindergarten teacher Holly Mary Edwards is banking on a miracle when the man of
herdreamsreturnsfromdutyabroad.

Decorated army doctor Michael Barnes is not ready to face the holiday season after his
fiancéeleaveshimforanotherman.Michaelisconvincedit’stimetoputhappinessina
tightlittleboxandshipitbacktotheNorthPole.

Hewasn’texpectingHolly.AndwhenthesexyHolly-jollynymphtakesituponherselfto
divesthimofhisMr.Scroogedattitude,she’lldoanythingtobringhimintothejinglebell
jolly.

CanHollyconvincehim‘tistheseasonforlove?

Silas–AScroogedChristmas

ByWinterTravers

Silas Warlack doesn’t have time for anything other than running a multi-million dollar
businessthousandsofmilesawayfromhishometown.Heespeciallydoesn’thavetimefor
frivolousthingsliketheholidaysandfamily.Toobadhismotherdoesn’tunderstandthat.

AinsleyCrownefinallyhaseverythingsheeverdreamedofinherlife—amazingfriends
andasuccessfulflowershopallinherhometown.Butablastfromthepastblowingback
intotownandherbestfriend’sweddingjustbeforeChristmasremindheroftheonething
missinginherlife:Love.

Will Ainsley and Silas realize what they had was once in a lifetime or will they be too
stubbornandlettheholidaymiracleintheirmidstpassthemby?

Travis–AScroogedChristmas

ByTracieDouglas

TravisMaloneisagrinch,andhe’sdamnproudofit.Ifheneverseesanothertwinklelight
orsmellsafreshbatchofChristmascookiesinhislife,he’lldieahappyman.

Olivia Wilder needs to make this Christmas the most memorable for her daughter. It’s
theirfirstholidayintheirnewlife.

WhenLivmovesinnextdoor,TravislearnshowfasttheChristmasspiritcanseepintohis
world,andhestrugglestoignorethegrowingattractionhefeelsforthesinglemom.But
when he declares war, Liv is determined to win, even if it means getting the whole
neighborhoodinvolved.

WillTravis’GhostofChristmasPastdestroyanychanceatjoyduringtheholidayseason?
OrwillOliviabeabletogivehimtheChristmasmiraclehedidn’tknowhewaslooking
for?

Zaiden–AScroogedChristmas

ByMayraStatham

World-famousfashionphotographerZaidenKlausenisajerkofaboss.That’swhy,after
twoyears,IquitfourdaysbeforeChristmas.ButthenhemakesmeanofferIcan’trefuse.

What’stheworstthingthatcanhappen?

Michele Henlin is the best makeup artist he has ever worked with. When she quits
unexpectedly,hefindshimselfbeggingawomanforthefirsttimeinhislife.

Onemorephotoshoot.That’sallhewantsfromher.

Untilanightmareofwhatafuturewithoutherinhislifewouldlooklikekickshiminto
highgeartoconvinceherheisn’tthescrooged-upmanshethinksheis.

Zane–AScroogedChristmas

ByJessikaKlide

Zane Lockhart is a coldhearted, selfish Las Vegas cop who hates Christmas and proudly
owns the nickname, Sergeant Scrooge. Refusing to celebrate it in any way except the
bellowingof“BahHumbug,”heinsistsit’sjustanotherday.

Whileonpatrolwithhisnewpartner,aK9copnamed,BruceWayneakaBatman,hehasa
chance encounter with a hot chick and sets up a midnight date with her. Off-duty and
readytoscoreahookup,thetwoaregettingacquainted,whenarobberyoccursandZane
comesfacetofacewithapastfullofscars,andapresentfullofsecrets.

ThisChristmasdiscoverthatrealheroesarebornnotmade,thatloveistrulymagical,that
“BahHumbug”canbeweaponized,andafuturefullofsorrowcanberescued.

Document Outline

Epilogue
A Scrooged Christmas
Copyright
Titles by CP Smith
Dedication
Note From The Author
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Read all the titles in the Scrooged Christmas Anthology

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