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Jingle Bell Romance
Falling For Scrooge
Julia Stanton loves Christmas—almost as much as she loves the home she’s made in Holiday Harbor. So when her beloved pastor’s prodigal son returns for a brief visit, she hatches a plan to keep Nick McHenry in town. Growing up as an ambassador’s daughter, she’s charmed countless dignitaries and surely she can get the brooding bachelor to see how much joy there is in a family-filled holiday. Julia never expects to feel the spark of something more for Nick. But it will take more than attraction to turn this handsome scrooge into her hometown hero.
Holiday Harbor: Where love is just around the bend.
“I thought you wanted to
keep your new life here a secret.”
“Some reporter will track me down eventually. This way, I control the situation.” Leaning forward, Julia pinned him with a knowing look. “Yesterday, you told me you miss getting the scoop. I’m giving you one, right here, right now. Take it or leave it.”
Nick knew if he didn’t grab this opportunity, another journalist would. Of course, agreeing meant he’d be stuck in Holiday Harbor longer than he’d planned. But a story like this was worth it. And getting to know the reclusive ambassador’s daughter through personal interviews would be downright fascinating.
“Once folks know you’re here,” he commented, “your online orders should go through the roof.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. It would be nice to do my books with black ink instead of red.”
He scoffed. “Like that’s a problem for you.”
That got him a steely glare. “Rule number one—assume nothing. Things in my life aren’t always what they seem to be.”
MIA ROSS
loves great stories. She enjoys reading about fascinating people, long-ago times and exotic places. But only for a little while, because her reality is pretty sweet. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s the proud mom of two amazing kids, whose schedules keep her hopping. Busy as she is, she can’t imagine trading her life for anyone else’s—and she has a pretty good imagination. You can visit her online at www.miaross.com.
Jingle Bell Romance
Mia Ross
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Give, and it will be given to you.
—Luke 6:38
For Ruth
Acknowledgments
To the very talented folks who help me make
my books everything they can be: Elaine Spencer, Melissa Endlich and the dedicated staff
at Love Inspired Books.
More thanks to the gang at Seekerville
(www.seekerville.net). Whether I’m looking for advice or just some cheerleaders, you never let me down.
My wonderful—and very patient—
friends and family surround me with support
and encouragement every single day.
Without you, this book would still just be
a quirky idea floating around in my head.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Dear Reader
Questions for Discussion
Excerpt
Chapter One
It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and Julia Stanton was expecting a busy day at Toyland. Looking forward to some coffee to ward off the chilly morning air, she was about to pull open the door of Holiday Harbor Sweets when a man’s black leather glove closed over top of her hand.
“Ladies first,” said a deep voice, and she looked up into the darkest brown eyes she’d ever seen. Framed by a tanned face and hair that was just a little too long, those eyes had a piercing quality, as if their owner noticed things other people missed and didn’t always like what he saw.
He was wearing classic black, from his briefcase and cashmere dress coat to a pair of stylish boots that were better suited to a business meeting in Manhattan than the slushy sidewalks of northern Maine. Set against the gently falling slow, his outfit gave him a dark, dangerous look. Until he smiled. The gesture lightened his intense features, and unabashed male interest flashed in his eyes.
When he opened the door and motioned her ahead of him, she returned the smile. “Thank you.”
“Since I know who you are,” he continued while they joined the to-go line, “I’m thinking you know who I am, too.”
She laughed. “The notorious Nick McHenry. My friend Bree Landry tells me you’re the toughest magazine editor she’s ever worked for.”
“Aw, she’s just being nice. Speaking of Bree, when are she and Cooper due back from their honeymoon in the Caribbean?”
“Her last email said ‘in time for Christmas.’ That was about a week ago.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t mention to me that you’re living here now. It’s not every day you find the daughter of a U.S. Ambassador cooling her heels in a backwater place like this.”
His unmasked disdain for the quaint village she’d called home for six months irked her to say the least. “Why would you say that? I thought you grew up here.”
“I did. First chance I got, I was outta here.”
“Too bad you didn’t stay out.” A young woman interrupted their conversation with an unforgiving scowl. Normally sweet and cheerful, Lucy Wilson looked as if she’d just run across her worst enemy.
“Hey there, Lucky,” Nick replied. “How’ve you been?”
“I know you and your idiot buddies all thought that was funny in high school,” she snarled, “but it wasn’t. It’s even less funny now.”
“Right. Sorry.” His brush-off tone made it clear he wasn’t sorry at all, and Julia couldn’t understand why he seemed to be going out of his way to make Lucy angry.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Lucy demanded.
“Mom invited me up for Thanksgiving,” he replied smoothly, not showing the tiniest bit of concern about the bitter reception he’d gotten. “You wouldn’t want me to disappoint her, would you?”
“You haven’t been back in what? Seven years?” she challenged him. “Why now?”
For the first time, the seemingly unflappable man showed irritation with her less-than-welcoming attitude. “Planning to showcase my personal business on page one of the local paper again?”
Julia couldn’t imagine why on earth they were going at it in public this way. She was starting to feel uncomfortable standing in the middle of this showdown, but there was no polite way to walk away.
“That was ages ago, and you totally deserved it.”
Still locked in a glaring contest with her, he said, “Not that anyone around here will care, but I wanted to meet my niece and nephew.”
“Whatever. Take my word on this one,” she cautioned Julia. “He’s been nothing but trouble his whole life.”
Julia glanced at him, and he nodded solemnly in agreement. His glum expression was clearly an act, though. The bemused twinkle in his eyes gave him away. Without another word, Lucy shoved past him and charged out the door without ordering anything. The overhead bells jangled sharply as she left, and Julia faced Nick with a frown of her own. “You were needling her on purpose.”
There was that wicked grin again. “Yeah.”
“Why on earth would you do that? Especially this time of year.”
“You mean because it’s Christmas?” When she nodded, he shrugged. “To me, vacation’s over, and I’ve got a ton of work to do. I need a bagel, some decent coffee and a wireless connection so I can plow through the pile of emails I haven’t been able to read since I got here Wednesday. I don’t have time to make nice with someone who’s determined to hate me no matter what I say or do.”
Julia was confused. “Why haven’t you been able to check your email? I thought you were staying with your sister, Lainie, and her family.”
“I am.” He gave her a suspicious look that appeared so natural for him, she assumed it was his normal way of interacting with people he’d just met. “How did you know that?”
“When I moved here in the spring, I didn’t know anyone, and she took me under her wing. She and I have gotten to be good friends. She told me you were coming and would be staying with them. I know they have wireless at their house.”
“Sure, but no privacy. I can’t concentrate with everyone yakking all the time.”
Why had he even bothered to come back? she wondered. The holidays were for family, but aside from the comment about meeting his niece and nephew, he didn’t seem to appreciate that at all.
Not her concern, she reminded herself sternly. If he wanted to neglect his relatives, that was his own business.
They moved up a spot in line, and Julia told him, “There’s no internet in here.”
“I know, but someone around here must’ve smartened up by now. Know any place in this map dot town that’s made it into the twenty-first century?”
Julia had the kind of connection he needed at her shop, but she was hesitant to tell him so. If she did, it would be common courtesy to allow him to use it, and she wasn’t at all certain she wanted him camped out in her store on such a busy shopping day. With his brooding vibe and incessant grumbling, he’d probably scare away half her customers.
You get what you give, Julia.
In her memory, she heard her mother’s gentle voice repeating one of her personal philosophies. Gisele Stanton had lived her entire life that way, abandoning a promising orchestral career to accompany her ambassador husband to every corner of the globe. While Julia had no intention of putting aside her own wishes for anyone ever again, she always did her best to follow her mother’s generous example.
“I have wireless at Toyland,” she finally said before she could think better of it. “You’re welcome to use it—with one condition.”
“Twenty bucks a minute?”
While she knew he was joking, the cynical remark spoke volumes about how this jaded journalist viewed the world. “You have to buy a toy to place under my Gifting Tree. They’ll go to local children to make their Christmas a little brighter.”
He blinked. Charity appeared to be a foreign concept to him. “You’re kidding.”
“Not at all.” She gave him her sweetest smile, the one that over the years had charmed countless dignitaries and a crown prince or two. “That’s the deal—take it or leave it.”
“Next!”
Eyeing Julia incredulously, Nick turned to the young woman behind the counter. Dressed in a red-and-green-striped shirt and fuzzy stocking cap, she tilted her head expectantly. “What can I get you?”
He rattled off a complex order, and she laughed. “You’re kidding, right? I don’t know what half that stuff is.”
“Fine.” His jaw tightened, as if he was struggling to keep control of what seemed to be a remarkably short temper. “What’ve you got?”
“Regular or decaf, large or small. I’ve got some choco-peppermint holiday creamer if you want that.”
His grimace made it clear he wanted nothing to do with creamer, holiday or otherwise. “I’ll take a large regular, black, with a poppy seed bagel.” At her give-me-a-break look, he sighed. “Plain bagel.”
“Coming right up.”
He didn’t respond, but as the overhead speakers crackled with “Deck the Halls,” he groaned softly. “This Podunk town wouldn’t know a latte or decent music if someone force-fed it to them.”
Because she was far from perfect, Julia made it a habit to be tolerant of other people’s shortcomings. But his constant griping was getting on her nerves. “Not a morning person, Mr. McHenry?”
“Not a Christmas person,” he corrected her as he reached into his inner coat pocket for his designer wallet. “Lainie calls me Scrooge, and she’s not far off. I’m not into the decorations and sappy carols and all that. Never have been, never will be.”
She waited a moment, then attempted to lighten the mood with, “Aren’t you going to say ‘bah, humbug’?”
He replied only with a wry grin, and she wondered if he enjoyed his Scrooge-y demeanor. He certainly had no qualms about showing his more abrasive side. Although she was still new in town, something told her Lucy wasn’t the only local resident who wouldn’t be pleased to see him. In a few short minutes, Julia had discovered he had a bristly personality and a sharp tongue. Honing that kind of sarcasm must have taken years, and she suspected he’d never been one who played well with others.
“This is such a wonderful time of year,” she said gently while he paid for his order. “I can’t imagine why you hate it so much.”
“Trust me. You’d rather not know.”
He didn’t elaborate, and Julia moved up to take his place at the front of the line. “Just the usual, Ellen. Thanks.”
Nick stood to the side but leaned in to add, “Miss Stanton’s order is on me.”
“Okay.”
Ellen scurried off to fill a take-out bag, and Julia looked at Nick. “That’s really not necessary.”
“You’re helping me out, so I figure it’s the least I can do.”
Baffled by his sudden shift in attitude from grim to generous, she smiled and offered her hand. “Then it’s Julia.”
“And I’m Nick.” Mischief brightened his features as they shook. “Does this mean you’re ignoring Lucy’s warning about me?”
“For now.” It was hard to resist the glimmer in his eyes, but she did her best. This guy probably had women fawning all over him on a daily basis. She didn’t want to give him any reason to think she’d be doing the same. “I like her very much, but I make up my own mind about people.”
Ellen returned with her breakfast, and Julia thanked her, taking the bag and cup while Nick paid. He added a nice tip, then angled to the side to allow Julia to leave the store in front of him.
Out on the sidewalk, a cold gust of wind hit them, and he shuddered. “Man, I hate winter.”
“Really? I love it.” To prove her point, she took in a deep breath of crisp, cool Maine air. “It smells clean and fresh, like anything’s possible.”
“It smells cold,” he muttered, glaring at the lazily falling snow as if he could will it to stop. “I’m headed back to Richmond today.”
“What a fabulous city, with all that history,” she commented, hoping to draw him into a more pleasant conversation. “How long have you been living there?”
He shrugged. “A year, I guess.”
“Virginia is a long way from here. What made you choose it?”
“No special reason. I just kept moving south ’til I found a spot where I can stand all the seasons.”
He didn’t sound all that thrilled with where he’d landed, and she wondered if he was still searching for a permanent place to live. Then again, maybe he didn’t even want to settle down. Having moved from one diplomatic post to another with her parents, the gypsy lifestyle no longer appealed to her. Still, she could understand how the excitement of it might be attractive to someone else.
Since Nick was clearly happy to be on his way out of town, there was no point in probing any further. Unfortunately, that meant she’d drained her usual well of small talk, and she was relieved when they reached her shop.
They paused outside the antique door, and Nick held their food while she dug out her keys. When she looked up, she noticed his eyes were fixed on the simple white church across the square. “Pretty, isn’t it?” she asked.
“My father’s church,” he replied in a clipped tone. “But if you asked him, I doubt he’d claim me. I’m the black sheep of the clan.”
Delivered in a near monotone, she couldn’t decide if the confession pained him or angered him. The flash of anger in his eyes answered that question better than any words. “I attend services there, and I enjoy his sermons very much,” Julia said.
“I can’t say the same.” Nick’s face twisted into something between a smirk and a scowl. “I guess they’re easier to take when they’re not aimed at you.”
Attempting to redirect the conversation, she said, “It’s a lovely church, with all that leaded glass and hand-carved woodwork. I’ve always been curious about who built it.”
His nasty expression faded, and he met her eyes calmly. “You’ve been here long enough to know the Landrys built it in 1817, a year after they got here.”
“On Christmas Day,” she added. “Which is how the town got its name.”
“You’re just trying to distract me with this little history lesson.”
For some reason, he was trying to start a fight with her. Rather than join in, she laughed. “Is it working?”
That got her a slow easy smile, completely at odds with the intensity she’d assumed was part of his personality. A pleasant surprise, it brightened his gloomy expression. “Let’s just say I could think of worse ways to kill a few hours before my flight than spending it with such a beautiful woman.”
His rapidly shifting moods set off alarm bells in her head, making her wonder what else he was hiding beneath that cool, detached exterior. Shaking off the thought, she cautioned herself that he was too arrogant to interest her.
She’d spent most of her twenty-eight years traveling the world, and she’d run across more than her share of alpha males along the way. The last one—a dashing Italian banker—all but destroyed her life before vanishing into thin air. Thanks to him, she’d given up on men a long time ago. Especially men like Nick, who clearly had no intention of sticking around.
* * *
Although he’d grown up here, Nick felt more claustrophobic than ever.
Perched on the rocky Atlantic coast, the village had been built around a town square with a white gazebo currently draped with fresh pine boughs. Up and down Main Street, shops and businesses were decorated with multi-colored garlands and twinkling lights. The snow drifting from the sky added to the effect, bringing to mind one of those Currier and Ives cards people loved to send him this time of year.
Holiday shopping wouldn’t be exactly like it was in other places, with crazed customers and twenty-four-hour sales, but for the handful of retail stores it would make or break their winter.
A cherry picker stopped at the far end of the short business district, and a guy wearing a hard hat climbed into the bucket with an armful of lighted garlands. They’d be looped in several spots across the width of Main Street, the way they’d been every year since Nick could remember.
That was the biggest problem with this town. Nothing ever changed.
Almost nothing, he amended as Julia unlocked the door and he followed her inside. He’d seen a lot since leaving for college at NYU, and not much surprised him anymore. Finding Julia Stanton here definitely fell into that category. Mostly because he couldn’t begin to comprehend why she’d chosen to settle down here of all places. Wealthy and connected beyond belief, she could have her pick of any glamorous city on the planet.
Why Holiday Harbor?
The reporter in him loved contradiction because they always led him in unexpected directions. These days, he spent more time editing articles, courting advertisers and designing copy layouts than writing, but the newshound in him smelled a story.
Standing in the entryway, he paused to take in the two giant Christmas trees framed in the display windows on either side of the glass-front door. A vintage train circled beneath one, snaking through festively wrapped gifts that reflected the bright lights and decorations. Under the other tree was a miniature version of Holiday Harbor, complete with ersatz snow, a skating pond and a white chapel lit from inside. Light glowed in the opaque windows, giving them the appearance of candlelight.
His father’s church, he noted grimly. As if seeing the real thing hadn’t been jarring enough. When he leaned closer, he saw that the gold lettering on the tiny sign read, “Safe Harbor Church. All are welcome.”
All but him. In an instant, his mind flashed back to childhood days spent in that church. Sitting in the front pew where Dad could keep a stern eye on him, make sure he didn’t daydream through endless sermons about saints and sinners, and how God knew what was in your heart. Week after week, year after year, he’d endured it because he hadn’t had a choice. His father never struck him, never raised his voice in anger, but he beat Nick down with God’s word, an inch at a time.
His own son, Nick recalled with a flare of anger, but not his favorite son. Not even close.
Feeling ambushed by the replica, he cooled his spiking temper with a deep breath. It was a lifetime ago, he reminded himself. He was twenty-eight now, and those oppressive memories were in the past. He’d worked hard to put them behind him, and they couldn’t hurt him anymore unless he allowed them to.
“Nick?” Hearing Julia’s voice, he dragged his eyes from the seemingly idyllic scene. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Just admiring your handiwork. Very pretty.”
She gave him the kind of long, mistrustful look he’d gotten from more women than he cared to recall. Normally, he shrugged them off and moved on, but for some reason, coming from her it bothered him. He couldn’t imagine why he cared what she thought of him, but he did, just the same.
“Really?” she asked. “I thought you hated all this.”
“I kind of said that, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did, right after you called yourself a Scrooge.”
He didn’t often regret anything, but as she frowned at him now, he wished he could take back the offhand remark. “Well, it’s not usually my thing, but the way you do it isn’t so bad.”
She gave him a quick once-over that made him want to squirm. “You’re trying to butter me up, aren’t you?”
Busted, he thought, hoping to turn things around with a smile. “Maybe a little.”
Shaking her head, she returned the smile, and he congratulated himself on smoothing over a potentially awkward situation. She’d been nice to him, and he found himself wanting to follow her example. Far from his usual keep-your-distance policy, it felt strange, but he could put up with it for the short time he’d be here.
As he glanced around, he noticed that the vaulted ceilings in the turn-of-the-century building allowed enough height to have a narrow walkway above. Dozens of tiny colored lights were draped along the railing, and between the posts she’d posed a stuffed version of every animal he’d ever seen. And even some he hadn’t.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at a scruffy-looking critter dangling from the top rail.
“A tree sloth. The one underneath is a ground sloth, crawling over to say hello to his friends the gorilla and the toucan. They’re discussing what to get Tarzan for Christmas.”
Without her ivory wool coat and hat, she was a dead ringer for Grace Kelly, his all-time favorite actress. More than beautiful, she always played classy characters with a surprising backbone underneath all that polish. Nick seldom considered it necessary to look beyond a woman’s appearance, but he couldn’t help wondering if Julia shared Grace’s steely quality.
With her blond hair pulled back in a gold barrette, she was dressed in gray trousers and a simple ivory sweater that made her eyes look even bluer than they had earlier. Nick didn’t know if it was the lady herself or all the lights, but in here, those eyes twinkled with a childlike enthusiasm.
It contradicted every impression he’d formed of her from press releases over the years. She was more than the cool, privileged ambassador’s daughter the media portrayed her as, which only made her more fascinating to him. “You really thought this over, didn’t you?”
“Kids have such great imaginations,” she replied, gliding past him to adjust the flame in the cheery gas fireplace. “I want them to have fun here, so I make up stories about the toys. They seem to like it.”