Mistletoe Magic (6 page)

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Authors: Melissa McClone

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BOOK: Mistletoe Magic
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He stole a
quick kiss. “This is going to be a great Christmas.”

Caitlin had no
doubt about that. She wouldn’t be spending this Christmas alone.
Maybe the start of a new tradition…


Though next year might be even better,” he said.

She drew back.
Had he read her mind? “Next year?”


When we dress Mistletoe up like Santa.” He grinned wryly. “I
like to plan ahead, remember?”

Joy seemed to
lift her feet off the ground. “I remember.”

And she had a
feeling this Christmas was only the beginning of the memories the
three of them would create… together.

 

THE END

 

 

 

 

If you enjoyed
spending time in Marietta, Montana, be sure to read all three A
Copper Mountain Christmas novellas:

 

A Cowboy For Christmas
– Katherine
Garbera

Find out more

 

Home For Christmas
– Melissa
McClone

Find out more

 

A Copper Mountain
Christmas
– Anthology

Find out more

 

For all the latest news and fun from Montana Born Books, visit
our website:
MontanaBornBooks.com
!

 

 

 

 

An excerpt
from

Home for
Christmas

Melissa
McClone

Copyright ©
2013

 

Nate set the
wreath on the front porch, making a mental note to find the hanger,
and headed to the mudroom. A silver pickup with an American flag
decal in the back window caught his eye.

Ty Murphy—his
best friend and partner, though Ty preferred to call himself the
foreman—was here. Not surprising. Ty was the hardest worker Nate
knew, the one person he could always count on.

He kicked the
snow from his ostrich dress boots and opened the mudroom door.

The smell of
ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon slammed into him like a stampeding
steer. Only this didn’t hurt.

Well, his
stomach did. Hunger pains.

His mouth
watered with anticipation. He had no idea what was baking or which
of his employees had started the morning off in the kitchen, but he
wanted a taste.

The scent of
Christmas circled his head, tantalizing his nose and taste buds. If
he could bottle and sell the scent, he would make a fortune. He
glanced around to make sure he hadn’t entered the wrong house.

Nope, this was
the Bar V5, the place he’d grown up and, God willing, where he’d
die and be buried when his time came.

He hoped that
wasn’t in the next five minutes, but if the Grim Reaper was on his
way, Nate had better get into the kitchen so he could get a bite of
whatever was cooking first. He placed the duffel bag strap on his
shoulder then stepped through the doorway.

What the…

Silver mixing
bowls, spoons and pans stacked haphazardly on top of each other in
the sink like a culinary edition of Jenga. Pull one thing out and
the entire pile would tumble down.

Cereal bowls,
full of different colors of icing, sat in a cluster on the island.
Pastry bags twisted like licorice between plastic containers full
of sprinkles and candies.

Decorating
cookies?

He took a
closer look.

Not cookies.
Gingerbread.

Like his mom
used to make.

That explained
the smell.

He rubbed his
chin. Stubble pricked his fingers.

Someone had
made themselves at home, but who? Ty grilled. He could smoke a mean
brisket. But bake? Not likely. The other wranglers usually stuck to
the bunkhouse. Maybe elves had decided to pay a visit.

Nate circled
the island for a closer look.

White icing
held together rectangular and square pieces of gingerbread in
various stages of construction. Houses, cottages, even a barn.

On the far
counter, miniature white lights illuminated the insides and hung
along the eaves of three houses. Christmas trees made from star
shaped cookies were strung with lights, too.

Charming and
creative.

He wanted a
taste.

A small piece
of gingerbread, the size of a window cutout, and a few others sat
on a paper towel. Scraps to be tossed? No one would miss one. He
popped a square into his mouth.

Flavors
exploded with just the right mixture of spices and sweetness. Oh,
yeah. Whoever baked this knew what they were doing. Wanting more,
he reached for another piece. His hand froze. He did a double
take.

One of the
gingerbread houses looked like the Crawford House. Same Victorian
architecture. Similar gables and bay windows. A hint of the
whimsical.

Cha-ching.

Mrs. Annabeth
Collier, formerly Crawford, one of Marietta’s First Families, would
pay top dollar for a custom gingerbread house. Rather her daughter
Chelsea’s billionaire boyfriend Jasper Flint would. And not only
them.

Nate wanted
one of the Bar V5.

People around
here went all out for the holidays. These houses would go over big.
He didn’t know how much one cost to make or the profit margin, but
with the right marketing…


Hello.” The feminine voice wrapped around him, warm and
welcoming as the scent of gingerbread baking. “Can I help
you?”

He turned
toward the sweet-as-molasses sound.

A
twenty-something woman stood in the laundry room doorway. Blonde
hair piled haphazardly on top of her head. Strands stuck out of the
messy bun. A puzzled expression complete with two little creases
above her nose made him want to see a smile on her pretty face.
Clear complexion, straight nose, full lips and warm hazel eyes.

His pulse rate
kicked up a notch, maybe two. Okay, five.

Nate
recognized, but he couldn’t quite place the color of her eyes. But
the way the color changed from light brown to green to a golden hue
captivated him.

She wore a
simple purple long-sleeved turtleneck, but streaks of white across
her chest—flour perhaps?—distracted him, made him want to volunteer
for cleanup duty. Faded jeans hugged her hips and thighs until
flaring slightly at her calves. Long legs and curvy in all the
right places.

Cute candy
cane striped sock-covered toes peeked out the bottom. The pattern
amused and intrigued him. Part of an elf’s costume or holiday
attire?

Either way,
Christmas had come early.

He’d been good
this year and deserved a reward from Santa. Hot gingerbread baked
by a hot woman was making him hot. The only improvement to his
wonderful gift would be if she was naked and wearing a red ribbon.
Though he could live without the ribbon.

His heart
raced, as if trying to catch his horse Arrow when the stallion had
escaped from the pasture. Sweat dampened the back of his neck. Had
someone turned up the heat?

Her mouth
twitched. She looked like she was waiting for something.

Oh, yeah. Him.
“Hi.”

 

 

 

 

 

About the
author

 

Melissa McClone’s degree in
mechanical engineering from Stanford University led her to a job
with a major airline where she traveled the globe and met her
husband. But analyzing jet engine performance couldn’t compete with
her love of writing happily ever afters. Her first full-time
writing endeavor was her first sale when she was pregnant with her
first child! Since then, she has published over twenty-five romance
novels with Harlequin and been nominated for Romance Writers of
America’s RITA award.

When she isn’t writing, she’s
usually driving her minivan to/from her children’s swim and soccer
practices, 4-H meetings and dog shows. She also supports deployed
service members through Soldiers’ Angels and fosters cats through a
local non-kill rescue shelter. Melissa lives in the Pacific
Northwest with her husband, three school-aged children, two spoiled
Norwegian Elkhounds and cats who think they rule the
house.

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