Melt My Heart (A Warrior Wolves Holiday Novella) Chapter Three by Christine DePetrillo

                                                                       

                                                                       

Chapter Three

   “You mean a room for you to stay in, lass. By yourself.” Flynn’s cheeks flamed almost as red as that crop of hair atop his head, and Brooke had never seen anything quite that adorable. A light dusting of red whiskers covered his jaw, encircling a set of lips that grew sexier each time he called her lass. Couple that Irish accent with the warm brown eyes that stared back at her and Flynn Callister might just be the hottest guy she’d seen in a long time.

And where had he gotten those arm and chest muscles? Her body still remembered how he’d plucked her from the snow bank with ease and held her against that solid torso of his. The hot cocoa was warming her nicely, but not half as well as looking at Flynn was.

“I will check with Gran and get you a room.” He disappeared and came back a few minutes later, waving a keycard at her. His blush was gone, but Brooke couldn’t forget that his mind had traveled down the path of him thinking she’d wanted to see his room.

Maybe that wasn’t so ridiculous. She hadn’t been with anyone since Mr. Can-We-See-Other-People. She definitely had a little pent up… energy.  

“Thanks,” she said as she put down her cocoa and took the keycard.

“Aye. No problem.” He arrowed a thumb toward the window where snow still fell. “Do you have bags you’d like brought in?”

“You wouldn’t mind getting them?” The thought of going out there again made a shiver ripple through her.

“Not at all.” He winked. “I’m not from Texas.”

“Snow is no match for you?” Judging by the over six-foot height of him and the broadness of his shoulders, she’d bet not much was a match for him. “Where are you from?”

“Ireland, originally, but I’ve lived in Vermont for a few months now. I’ve almost earned my membership card.”

“What brings a guy like you from Ireland to Vermont?” What makes a guy like you pant like a dog? Brooke clasped her hands in front of her, focusing on the feel of the keycard between her palms instead of wondering what Flynn looked like shirtless.

“Music. I’m in a band and our lead singer decided to move here after she met her soul mate. So the rest of us moved here too.”

So he believes in soul mates. Good to know. “What’s the band’s name?” She should have figured he was in a band. He had that sexy musician air about him.

“Hendrake.”

Brooke’s mouth dropped open. “Hendrake! Wait a minute!” She jumped to her feet and immediately regretted it as her back rebelled. “Flynn Callister. Oh my God, you’re the drummer!”

Flynn’s cheeks pinked again and he dropped his gaze to his boots. “Aye, that’s me.” Man, he did bashful well.

Really well.

“Holy cow! You guys have a great sound. So different than that other junk on the radio that’s all the same. After I heard Hendrake, I downloaded a bunch of your songs. I run a nightclub in Texas and sometimes before opening—when I’m alone and have free reign over the club’s sound system—I play Hendrake. Your drums sound amazing on those speakers.” She was gushing. She had to stop. Like now. “The drums are my favorite part.” Seriously. She needed to shut up.   

A slow grin slid across Flynn’s lips. “The drums are my favorite part too. Emma and the guys should be back right before Christmas. We’re doing a holiday concert for Canville Children’s Home which helped us get our big break.” He backed out of the room. “I’ll be right back with your bags.”

Brooke reminded herself to stay right where she was. Clearly the man thought she was a nutball. Why couldn’t her mouth have stayed frozen so she could have kept her fangirling to herself? She swigged the last of her hot cocoa and by the time Flynn reappeared with her bags, she was feeling… toasty.

For a number of reasons.

“Thank you for going out there.” She walked toward him—slowly so as not to aggravate her back—and brushed snow off his shoulders. Stop touching him! She let her arms drop to her sides. “Sorry.”

“Beautiful lasses never have to apologize for brushing snow off me.” He set one of her bags down as he sent her a smile. “Give me your keycard and I’ll bring these up for you.”

“I probably should turn in as well,” she said, massaging her lower back with one hand. “That’s the only way this will settle down.”

“Does it hurt a great deal?” He led them to the stairs, which Brooke assumed led to the guest rooms.

“Not as much as it first did. Those magic pills are already doing their thing.” A massage from a hot Irish drummer was probably the best remedy though. Biting her lip, she followed him up the stairs, enjoying the back view of him as much as the front. “I’ll have to call my family and say I can’t make it to the ski lodge on time because I can’t drive.”

Flynn stopped in front of a door and turned to face her. “I… I could drive you to the ski lodge tomorrow. If you’d like. I could get Gran to give us some of her famous snickerdoodles for the trip.”

Brooke put her hand to her heart. “I can’t refuse a man who promises me snickerdoodles, but are you sure you don’t mind driving me?”

“Not at all. I welcome the chance to get to know you, lass.”

She never refused a man with an Irish accent, drummer’s biceps, and snickerdoodles. “Then I will accept your very generous offer. You’ll be saving my Christmas.”

Flynn pushed the keycard into the lock and opened the door. After letting her pass first, he brought in her bags and set them in the room’s small closet. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”

“I already am.”

He reached out a hand and traced her jaw with his index finger. Somehow she felt that touch absolutely everywhere. “Good night, lass.” He headed for the stairs.

Brooke had to grip the door frame to keep from throwing her arms around him and planting a kiss on those tempting lips. Didn’t Gran believe in decorating with mistletoe? Where was a sprig when you needed one?

“Flynn?”

He turned around, his hand on the banister to the stairs. “Aye?”

“Do you ski?”

Grinning, he came back to her door and took her hand. He dropped a light kiss on the back of it that was somehow both gentlemanly and sexy as hell. “Only with lasses from Texas.”

“I probably won’t be skiing with this back,” Brooke said, “but I will need someone to cuddle with by the fire.” She looked down at their still joined hands, not wanting to let go just yet. “You look as if you would be a good cuddler.”

“Actually…” He tugged her into an embrace—one that didn’t feel like a stranger’s. “I’m an expert.”

Apparently Flynn Callister would be saving more than her Christmas. He’d be melting her heart too.

Come back tomorrow for a holiday tale from Rolynn Anderson! Happy Holidays!

Want more of the Warrior Wolves Series? Check it out HERE!

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com 

Melt My Heart (A Warrior Wolves Holiday Novella) Chapter Two by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter Two

Flynn Callister burst into the main sitting room at Deer Creek Inn and set the womansicle he’d pulled from the front yard onto the couch. He pulled his jacket from her shoulders then unzipped her own coat. Tossing them to the floor, he grabbed the thick quilt on the back of the couch and draped it around the lass. Next he pulled his phone out of his back pocket.

“I’m calling 911,” he said, though he wasn’t sure if the woman was with it enough to understand him. Her cheeks were so red from the biting cold, her lips nearly blue, and her clothes were soaked. “Gran!”

Aideen Rhodes, owner of Deer Creek Inn and grandmother to Flynn’s friend and bandmate, Emma, came into the sitting room. As soon as she saw the woman on her couch, her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, dear, what’s happened?”

“I found her outside. She must have fallen trying to get to the front door. She might be hur—” He stopped when the 911 operator answered. After explaining the situation, he hung up. “An ambulance is on the way, but do you have some dry clothes. She drenched and freezing.”

“Of course.” Gran scurried from the room and Flynn turned his attention back to the woman.

“Hey.” He kneeled beside the couch and used his index finger to move aside strands of wet, golden hair. “Can you hear me?”

The woman nodded, but it appeared to sap her energy to do so. Poor lass. How long had she’d been out there? Just how hurt was she? Who was she?

“I’m Flynn Callister and we’ll get you all warmed up, aye. Don’t worry.”

Good thing he’d come to the inn tonight. Every other member of their Celtic rock band, Hendrake, was in a relationship and Emma, Torrin, and Blaithin had taken their mates on romantic getaways as Christmas presents. They’d, of course, invited him to come along, but what was more pathetic than being the seventh wheel? So he’d elected to stay behind and help Emma’s grandmother run the inn for the week before Christmas. In exchange, Gran had promised to make him all the snickerdoodles he could eat.

Which was an unholy number.

When he’d heard the howling earlier, he’d opened the front door, concerned that wild animals were getting a bit too close to the inn. He’d been prepared to fire off a couple of warning shots with Gran’s rifle, but then he’d thought he’d heard a voice out there in the blizzard.

Thank heavens he’d checked it out. This lass could have died out there tonight.

Gran bustled back into the sitting room and shooed him out so she could help the woman change her clothes. When he was allowed back in, the lass was sitting up and looking… hot. She made the gray sweats Gran had given her look like something a supermodel would wear.

That golden hair, though still wet, fell around her shoulders in long waves. She was petite, all her features delicate and feminine. Rich green eyes searched the sitting room before settling on Flynn and making something magnetic inside him pull him farther into the room. Closer to the couch.

Closer to her.

“I… I’m Brooke Myers,” she said after clearing her throat. There was a slight southern twang to her words that enchanted Flynn. “Are you the one who pulled me out of the snow?”

Flynn nodded, too caught up in her to form words.

“Well, thank you. Thank you so much. I was about two seconds from becoming a permanent ice sculpture.” She coughed, a wince scrunching up her face.

“Are you hurt?” He navigated himself to the coffee table in front of the couch where Gran was already standing.

“Her back,” Gran said. “Wrenched it trying to get out of the snow bank. I’m so sorry, lass. Usually everything is cleared, but the snow was falling too quickly to stay ahead of it and I wasn’t expecting any new guests tonight.”

Brooke held up a hand. “I totally understand. I didn’t expect to be a guest. I’m supposed to be at a ski lodge an hour from here with my family.” Her gaze shot to Flynn. “I’m meeting my parents and siblings for Christmas.”

Not a boyfriend or husband? Good to know, and had she wanted him to have that information?

The doorbell rang and Gran went to answer it while Flynn lowered to sit on the edge of the coffee table. “Can I get you something to drink?” He was glad that question came out and not do you want to run away with me?

“Something hot would be wonderful,” Brooke said in a soft, scratchy voice. A rather sexy voice. “I’m so cold.”

“Aye. Coming right up.” Flynn met Gran and two EMTs in the foyer. “Aside from hurting her back and being out in the cold, she appears to be okay.”

“We’ll check her out,” one of the EMTs said.

“Help me get her something to drink, Gran?” Flynn angled his head toward the inn’s kitchen.

“I know just the thing.” Gran led the way and moved around the kitchen as if she could do so with her eyes closed. “What a way for a lass to start her holiday.”  

A dozen other ways Flynn could start Brooke’s holiday flashed through his mind as he leaned against the threshold and watched Gran. As he let a few of those scenarios play out in his mind, he grew heated beneath his flannel shirt and jeans. How could he let his mind wander into that territory? The woman had suffered a frightening ordeal being stuck outside and hurting her back during a blizzard. She didn’t need some guy trying to put the moves on her.

Does she? She had pointed out that the family she was meeting included her parents and siblings. Not a significant other. Why would she specify if she wasn’t interested?

Flynn was totally ready for some excitement. He’d grown so tired of being the only one not in a relationship. Emma had Kole, Blaithin had Vix, and Torrin had Kari. And while he could have hooked up with any number of lasses at Hendrake concerts, eager to score with the band’s drummer, that wasn’t what he was looking for in his life right now. At thirty-four years old, he wanted something like his friends had. Something real. Something more. Something with the potential for forever.

A loud snap in front of his face made him blink and focus on Gran standing in front of him. She held up a mug with steam curling from the hot cocoa it contained.

“Earth to Flynn.” She smiled. “Can you take this to our guest?”

“Aye.” He took the mug and carefully made his way toward the sitting room. With a quick peek around the doorway to make sure he wasn’t interrupting an examination, he entered and set the cocoa on the coffee table.

One of the EMTs shook a bottle of pills at him. “She’s pulled a muscle in her back. Some of these, coupled with rest, and she’ll be as good as new. No signs of frostbite, but she does need some warming up.”

“Which you’re already on top of with the cocoa,” the other EMT said.

But that’s not the only way to warm up a lass…

Flynn shook that thought from his head as he accepted the bottle of pills from the EMT.

“She shouldn’t drive or operate any heavy machinery while she’s on these,” the first EMT said.

“Darn.” Flynn shot her a quick smile. “I was going to have her snowblow out there.” He gestured out the window where the storm was still raging.

Brooke offered him a grin that made her entire face radiant. “Snowblowing is not on my resume. I’m from Texas.”

Picturing her dressed as a cowgirl made Flynn have to bite back a groan. What was wrong with him tonight? He’d pulled one gorgeous woman from the snow and his hormones were all high-fiving each other, ready to get into the game.

He thanked the EMTs and walked them out. When he returned to the sitting room, Brooke had her hands wrapped around the mug. He wiggled the pill bottle. “Want some of these?”

“Yes, please.” She held out her hand and he shook two pills into her palm. After taking them, she looked up at Flynn. “Please tell me you have a room here.”

He certainly did.

Come back tomorrow for the last part of Melt My Heart!

Want more of the Warrior Wolves Series? Check it out HERE!

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com 

Melt My Heart (A Warrior Wolves Holiday Novella) Chapter One by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter One

She peered through the snow-spattered windshield at the neon sign and hoped like hell there was room at the inn. Had Brooke Myers known a snowstorm of epic proportions was due to hit the area, she would have delayed her trip to Vermont. Of course, traveling north in December was no doubt guaranteed to include snow, but not one meteorologist had predicted these blizzard conditions before she’d left sunny Texas. Her flight into Burlington had been on schedule, but by the time she’d rented a car, the snow had started to fall.

By. The. Ton.

She still had another hour’s drive to meet her parents at the ski lodge. Continuing at this point in the dark and terrible weather, however, was just asking for trouble. If she could shack up here at… at…

“Deer Creek Inn,” she read after squinting at the sign her headlights illuminated. She couldn’t see much of the inn through the white sheet of falling snow, but she’d stay anywhere right now to not have to drive any longer.

Assuming there was an available room.

“There has to be.” Brooke hit the gas and slid into the first empty parking space she found. How many people decided to spend the holidays in the frigid woods of Vermont? Most people were smarter than that. Most people packed their bags and went to a tropical location in the middle of winter. Most people she knew anyway.

That was why she was so surprised when her parents announced a skiing holiday excursion for this Christmas. Normally the Myers family convened somewhere exotic, somewhere south to celebrate. Brooke’s father would simply send airline tickets and resort reservations to his four children scattered about the United States, and it was expected that everyone would show up at the destination, full of yuletide spirit. Brooke was still searching for that spirit. Hopefully it’d show up before she had to actually see her parents.

The last time they’d all been together had been at her sister’s wedding this past summer. Her younger sister’s wedding, where her family had done their best to hound her about when she’d be getting married. Brooke had assured them an engagement was just around the corner because surely her serious boyfriend of three years was about the pop the question. She’d been right too.

About the wrong question.

“Can we see other people, Brooke?” he’d asked on her birthday.

She’d been just about to dive into the huge hunk of chocolate cake the waiter had brought over to their table at their favorite restaurant. “What?”

Needless to say she hadn’t been back to that restaurant since. A shame really. That cake was to die for.  

Puffing out a breath now, she zipped up the winter coat she’d had to buy specifically for this trip. She pulled on a pair of gloves and eyed the front door of the inn. Why did it have to be so far away? The parking lot wasn’t plowed and the walkway wasn’t shoveled. With snow falling this fast, Brooke understood why, but her boots were in the trunk somewhere, buried under all the junk she’d packed.

I’ll just have to make a run for it.

She was at least wearing sneakers and if she stayed in the car any longer, she wouldn’t have to worry about getting a room at the inn because she’d be frozen to the driver’s seat.

With a quick thought of warm Texas sunshine, Brooke opened the car door and hopped out of the small rental sedan that had no business driving down snowy Vermont roads. She pulled the hood of her jacket up and took off for the front door of the inn. Heavy, wet snow sloshed into her sneakers, but she kept moving and made it across the parking lot. A laugh bubbled out of her as she thought about her colleagues back at the Silver Saddle nightclub in Texas. They were accustomed to seeing her manage and sing at the club she’d started from scratch herself. If they’d caught even a glimpse of her bundled up and darting through snow in the dark, desperate for cover, they’d fall over in hysterics. Wait until she got back home and told them this tale.

Brooke stepped onto what she assumed was the walkway, but it was hard to tell with all the snow. Everything looked the same bluish white in the floodlights shining from the inn’s porch roof. She trudged forward, putting her arm out to shield her face from the wind and snow.

Which was why she didn’t see that she’d veered off the walkway a bit. Not until she took her next step and her left leg sunk into snow up to her thigh. The rest of her body got thrown off balance and she fell, face first, into the bank. She struggled against the snow’s hold on her and something low in her back wrenched the wrong way.

The blizzard wind swallowed her holler. Brooke tried to break free, but the pain in her back radiated throughout her body each time she moved her limbs. She had to get up though. Had to get out of the freezing snow and into that inn. Had to have someone massage the throbbing ache in her back, in her head, in her…

Brooke’s heart beat wildly as she snapped awake. Crap. She’d passed out from the pain and from imagining all the ways she could die if she didn’t get free. How long had she been out here? Long enough that her strength was at zero and parts of her body had gone numb. She got her hand into her jacket pocket only to remember she’d left her cell phone in the car because she’d been using it to listen to an audio book on the drive.

This would only happen to me. All her family members were probably nestled by a roaring fire at the ski lodge by now. Too bad her family would have to remember this Christmas as The One When Brooke Froze to Death.

A low howl sounded from the dark woods bordering the inn. It sounded like something… big. Brooke pulled the sides of her hood tighter around her face as a second howl echoed the first.

Great. Not only did she have to worry about freezing to death, she also had to try not to look like prey.

More howls erupted from the white-washed shadows, sounding more and more like an entire pack of… dogs? They had to be some mighty huge dogs to let loose howls like these. Did Vermont have wolves? Were they active in the winter?

Did they eat nightclub owners from Texas?

When the next howl vibrated from the trees, the front door of the inn opened, spilling golden light onto the porch. A silhouette filled the doorway and Brooke called out, “Help!” Her voice cut in and out though, and the silhouette disappeared as the door closed. Brooke’s shoulders sagged and fresh pain zinged down her spine.

A moment later the door opened again and the silhouette came onto the porch. It was slightly larger and Brooke realized the person had donned a jacket.

“Hello?” a deep male voice called above the wind. “Is someone out there?”

“Yes!” Brooke’s voice was barely a rasp. She’d already been outside in the cold too long. She couldn’t yell any louder.

The silhouette came down the front steps but was looking toward the other side of the walkway. She had to do something to get noticed or this would definitely be her last Christmas.

Using what little strength she had left, she grabbed two glovefuls of snow—though her back protested at the movement—and packed them together into a tight ball. She took aim and sailed that snowball right into the silhouette’s back where it exploded.

The silhouette flinched and turned around, his gaze connecting with hers. “Oh my God!”

Brooke fell forward just as the silhouette reached her. Strong arms caught her before she hit the snow. A second later, a warm jacket was wrapped around her shoulders and she was lifted out of the bank completely.

A wail of pain escaped her throat as she was jostled.

“You’re going to be okay, lass,” a soothing male voice with just a touch of an Irish accent said. “Let’s get you inside.”

              No sweeter words had ever hit Brooke’s ears. 

Come back tomorrow for the second part of Melt My Heart!

Want more of the Warrior Wolves Series? Check it out HERE!

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com 

`Tis the Season to...Shop? by Brenda Whiteside #booksale #holidaydeals

I'm not a very good shopper. When I was young and Mom wanted a companion for shopping, she always chose my sister. Walking the mall was a boring detail to tackle. As an adult, I'm still not a good mall shopper, but I discovered catalogs. For awhile, I was a catalog junkie. FDW would often find me sitting in the floor of our walk-in closet perusing my stack of catalogs.

Then came online shopping. Now, I go through my morning emails of store after store, some brick and mortar, but many are strictly online establishments. Most of the year, I delete 99% of them without reading. This time of year I tend to go slowly and open the ones that might lead me to that one special Christmas present. I come from a small family. My mom loves to give EVERYONE something. Being raised by her gave me the fever for giving at Christmas, even in lean years. Those times are almost as enjoyable because you really have to hunt to find something personal but inexpensive.

Books are the perfect gift. You knew I'd get to that...right? And in this day and age, you can even gift someone with an eBook which is really affordable and personal. Finding that book that suits the recipient's tastes can be rewarding. I have one of the Love and Murder series books on sale for five more days for $.99. FYI, it's available on Nook also.

CLICK FOR AMAZON
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And even when not on sale, they're a good buy. The books in the Love and Murder Series are award nominated and five star reads, so enjoy. Maybe treat yourself, too!

Read the first chapter of all of my books on my web site: https://brendawhiteside.com/

Happy shopping season!

Gingerbread Hearts ~ Chapter Three by Christine DePetrillo

Running down a hotel hallway in spike-heeled boots was second in dumbass moves only to breaking into a rock star’s room and stealing his sweatshirt. What the hell was she doing?

“Hold the elevator!” Kat yelled as she rounded the corner.

The doors sealed shut.

Jacob skidded to a halt beside her. “Kat!”

Crap. Seeing Jacob Morey again was a shock. Seeing how fantastic his chest looked with muscles in all the right places was a ticket to a show she wasn’t ready for. A show she might never be ready for ever again.

But he did look good enough to eat, and she could describe herself as… hungry. His black hair hung to his stubble-covered jaw while deep blue eyes pinned her in place. A snake tattoo started on his left pectoral with a detailed head and open jaws flashing fangs at her. The inked body and tail stretched over his left shoulder and coiled around his left bicep. Kat had never thought much about tattoos before, but this one made her insides flutter. She wanted to wrap herself around him in a similar fashion.

No! No, I don’t. She had to go. 

With the elevator traveling down without her and the door to the stairs blocked behind Jacob, she was trapped. How was she getting out of this one?

I’m going to kill Fiona.

Jacob reached out a hand and she jumped back, her heart racing.

“Whoa.” He held out both hands. “I’m not going to hurt you, Kat.” He pointed to the hoodie she clenched to her chest. “Just thought I’d get less naked out here in the middle of the hallway.”

Her arm shot out without her telling it to do so, and his hoodie dangled from her hand. Guess she wouldn’t be getting Fiona that Jake Pearson item after all. Damn.

She tried not to be disappointed as Jacob covered all those muscles and that tattoo with the bright red sweatshirt. He didn’t zip it up all the way, and she wondered if he were playing the role of Hot Santa’s Elf for her on purpose or was that just a side benefit?

“I’m sorry I busted into your room and stole your sweatshirt,” she blurted, hoping an apology would get him to move and allow her to leave. Because she wanted to leave. Didn’t she?

“Technically, you didn’t steal it,” he said. “I gave it to you.”

“Right.” She tapped her foot, trying—maybe only half-heartedly now—to formulate a getaway plan. If she stood in front of him as he looked all tall and sexy much longer, she might toss the rules she’d put in place since The Incident, tug him back into his room, and unwrap him like a Christmas present.

Kat never thought she’d see Jacob Morey again. With all the time they’d spent together when they were in school, she’d always thought he’d ask her out. She’d thought he’d liked her. He was always around, making jokes with her, busting her up, but never in a mean way. More like flirty teasing. She wasn’t sure what kept him from taking the next step, but when they’d graduated, she went to college and he went to California.

Then she’d met Marc, French exchange student, who was into art and philosophy and had seemed so mature compared to all the silly college boys littering campus. Turns out she was the one who was silly—silly to believe Marc’s sweet nothings, whispered in French, wouldn’t mean he’d take what he wanted.

Even if she wasn’t ready to give it.

Thank goodness Fiona had been her roommate at the time. Fiona had been studying with some other girls in the common room in their dorm suite, had heard Kat scream, and dashed into their bedroom, ready to kick somebody’s nuts in. She’d literally jumped on top of Marc’s back and pounded him with her fists until he got off Kat and shook Fiona off.

That hadn’t stopped Fiona though. She’d marched up to Marc and punched him right in the nose. Blood had exploded from Marc’s face. Swearing in French and glaring at both of them, he’d left the room. Fiona had hugged Kat, asking if she was okay.

Because of Fiona, she was okay. Physically anyway. Emotionally, Kat had locked everything down since then, too afraid to trust anything that had a Y-chromosome.

But Jacob Morey had never done anything bad to her. In fact, all through high school, he’d been this… this presence. Someone she could count on for a friendly smile, a helping hand, a kind word. Someone who had always been a gentleman.

She remembered a holiday concert they’d played in their hometown. After entertaining parents with Christmas tune after Christmas tune, the student musicians had gathered around the snack table which was piled high with cookies. Kat only had eyes for one kind of cookie though.

Gingerbread.

The ones she and her grandmother had made for the concert. There wasn’t anything better in the world than Nonnie’s gingerbread cookies. Nonnie always made them in the shape of a heart because “Christmas is about love, Kit-Kat.”

When Kat had reached out a hand to pick up one of the heart-shaped gingerbread cookies, she’d bumped into another hand.

Jacob’s.

“Sorry,” they’d both said.

Jacob had picked up two hearts from the tray and held one out to her. “These are the best cookies here.”

“My grandma and I made them.” She’d taken the cookie he’d offered, pride swelling inside her that Jacob liked what she’d baked.

“Of course.” He’d smiled, and she’d become a little fascinated with his mouth, hoping for her first kiss.

Instead, they’d both stuffed the gingerbread hearts into their mouths and chewed silently as they stood next to each other.

“You know what I need,” Jacob said to her now.

She blinked out of the concert memory and looked at him. “To call hotel security on me?”

He laughed, a raspy chuckle that made her skin tingle. “No. I need gingerbread cookies.”

The grin on his lips told her he hadn’t forgotten that concert night either. Was it possible he regretted not kissing her then?

“I have a friend who works in the hotel’s restaurant,” she said. “We made gingerbread cookies together last night. I think I can get us some.”

“Heart-shaped?” he asked. “Because they taste better in a heart shape.” He held his hand out to her, slowly as if being careful not to spook her. Jacob may have been rock star Jake Pearson, but he was still the guy she’d known—the guy she’d trusted—when they were younger. 

“Heart-shaped gingerbread cookies coming up.” Kat slipped her hand into his and a wall crumbled inside her when he intertwined his fingers with hers.

A loud ding sounded as the elevator doors slid open. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas wafted out into the hallway.

Maybe I will. Kat tugged Jacob into the elevator then turned to face him. “Can I still give Fiona that sweatshirt?”

He brought their joined hands up and pressed his lips against her knuckles. “You’ll have to get it off me first.”

Happy Holidays, my friends and Roses! May you always believe in Christmas miracles. Don't forget to join me at Small Town Hearts on FB for more holiday spirit. 

Tune in tomorrow for Alison Henderson's story and continue the holiday fun. 

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

Gingerbread Hearts ~ Chapter Two by Christine DePetrillo

Was it too much to ask for a little privacy? Jake Pearson hadn’t expected to be awakened by a bold intruder, nor did he plan on running for the room door to stop her from escaping. Something about the woman was familiar though. He’d only gotten the briefest of glances at her in the dim room, but her scent—something gingerbreadish—threw him back to a past Christmas. The last time he’d smelled that fragrance…

“Kat?”

Enough light spilled in from the window that Jake was able to see the woman’s shoulders stiffen. She was facing the wall beside the door, pressed up against it as if she expected him to attack her.

She peeked over her shoulder and those hazel eyes were definitely Katrina Harris’s.

“Jacob?” she whispered as she slowly turned around to face him. “Jacob Morey?”

Why did it delight him that she remembered his name? His real name. The name his agent had made him change once he’d signed a record deal. Apparently Jake Pearson had a more badass rocker sound to it than Jacob Morey. At the time, he’d been willing to completely reinvent himself if it meant getting his music out into the world. Now, with Kat Harris standing before him, however, he longed to be Jacob Morey again. The Jacob Morey who had spent his elementary and middle school years teasing Kat Harris about everything because he hadn’t been sure how else to get her attention. The Jacob Morey who had played the piano in the high school band where he stole glances at Kat playing the violin. The Jacob Morey who had always heard the most beautiful music in his head whenever he looked at the most beautiful girl in the world.

The Jacob Morey who had forever been too insecure to actually ask Kat out on a date.

“What are you doing here?” Kat asked, an adorable crinkle forming right between her blonde brows. God, she looked amazing with all that golden hair piled on one shoulder and cascading down to just above her breasts—which also looked amazing beneath a green dress that told him she’d only gotten hotter over the past four years. Long, toned legs supported all that sexiness, and Jake had to remind himself to look, not touch.

“I believe the question is what are you doing here?” Jacob gestured to the room around them. “I paid for this room.”

“But I thought this was Jake Pearson’s room.” Her gaze lowered for a moment, and Jacob would have given anything to learn what she thought about the view of his naked chest. He’d been sleeping in only a pair of sweatpants when she’d busted into his room. Kat was no doubt wondering how the hell a scrawny teenager like he’d been could have grown into someone Tunes Magazine had called “as rock hard as his hard rock.” He wrote his best music when he worked out so he worked out often. Turns out all that lifting built muscles where he never even realized he could have them.

Kat appeared to be inventorying those muscles right now as she stared at him, a faint pink tingeing her cheeks.

“This is Jake Pearson’s room, Kat.” He pressed his hands to his bare chest. “I’m Jake Pearson.”

“I… I don’t understand.” She looked him over again then seemed to catch herself and snapped her gaze up to meet his.

“Why don’t you answer my question first?” He put his hands on his hips. “Why did you sneak into my room?”

“I didn’t sneak into your room.” She tilted her chin up and he remembered all the times she’d done that exact thing while telling him he was the most annoying boy she’d ever met.

Of course she’d never told him to take a hike either. She’d had plenty of opportunities to stop talking to him when they’d been in school together, but she hadn’t. She’d tolerated him. Maybe even liked his company, but he’d never been sure enough to take that next step and ask her to go out with him on an actual date. Then they’d gone their separate ways after high school, lost contact, and he’d been too afraid to just call her.

Coward. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He was Jake Pearson now. World famous rock star. He didn’t need to ask women out on dates. They threw themselves at him.

And not one of them had ever meant as much to him as Kat had. This was his chance to right one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

Christmas is a time of miracles.

“Okay,” he said. “If you didn’t sneak in here, what are you doing here?”

Kat sifted out a breath, her shoulders slumping a bit as she no doubt realized he wasn’t letting her leave until she gave him some answers. “My friend Fiona is a huge fan of Jake Pearson… of you, I guess… and because I work here at this hotel, she wanted me to get something of yours for her. You weren’t supposed to be in here. I’d heard you’d gone to breakfast.”

The red staining her cheeks deepened, and Jacob wondered if that blush covered the flesh he couldn’t see. Now that was a question he really wanted to answer.

“I was tired after my last concert so I canceled my breakfast engagement.” He angled his head at her. “You’re willing to break into someone’s hotel room and steal for this friend? A big risk, no?”

Kat looked down to her feet—her sexy feet in a pair of spike-heeled black boots. The kind of boots dudes had dreams about.

“I owe Fiona.”

“Must have been a pretty big favor she did for you.”

Kat’s eyes filled with tears as she whispered. “The biggest.”

“Oh, hey. I didn’t mean to upset you, Kat.” Shit, that was the last thing he wanted to do. He’d been granted this unexpected Christmas gift, and he was blowing it. Big time.

She shook her head, sniffed, and cleared her throat. “You’re not upsetting me. I’m okay.” She hugged herself. “Why is it so damn cold in here?”

“I worked out earlier and got overheated. Forgot I turned the air conditioner on.”

 “Do you have a sweatshirt or something I could borrow?”

“Sure.” Figuring she’d stay if she were warmer, he rustled around in the closet and handed her a red hoodie. “Here you go.”

"Thanks." Kat grabbed it, ripped open the room door, and was gone before Jake could blink.

Tune in tomorrow for Chapter Three! In the meantime, head on over to Small Town Hearts on Facebook and enjoy holiday fun with me. 

Happy Holidays!

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com 

Gingerbread Hearts ~ Chapter One by Christine DePetrillo

Pulling this off would take a Christmas miracle. When Katrina Harris’s best friend, Fiona, had asked her to sneak into Jake Pearson’s hotel room and steal something of his, she should have outright refused to partake in such nonsense. However… it was Fiona asking and Kat already had an internship at the hotel as she pursued a degree in hotel management. There’d be nothing odd about her being at the hotel.

There would be something odd about her being in the hotel room of rock sensation Jake Pearson though. At least Fiona had said he was a rock sensation. Katrina wouldn’t know. She was a fan of classical music having played the violin in the local orchestra since high school. Rock always seemed so full of angst, and the last thing Kat needed in her life was angst.

“C’mon, Kat.” Fiona had clasped her hands together so tightly her knuckles were white. “You have to get me something of Jake Pearson’s. He’s going to be right there. In your hotel.”

“It’s not my hotel.” Not yet anyway, but Kat had dreams. Big dreams. One day she’d own an empire of hotels that travelers equated with natural elegance and tranquility. Since graduating from high school four years ago, she’d been using her college courses and free time to work on resort designs that combined the beauty of the outdoors with luxury. She knew she had a fresh, innovative idea, and she couldn’t wait for it to be a reality.

For now, she had to be content with finishing her internship at Winchester Resort in Newport, Rhode Island.

“Okay, okay,” Fiona had said. “It’s not your hotel, but you will be under the same roof as Jake, and he’s been my crush since I heard his first song on the radio. I didn’t even know what he looked like at the time. His voice alone hooked me. It’s just a bonus that he’s gorgeous too.”

“Why don’t you hang out at the hotel while he’s staying there?” Kat had suggested because she really didn’t have the time for such shenanigans. “You could easily run into him by the indoor pool or something.” With winter raging outside, most guests used the hotel’s many indoor amenities. Christmastime wasn’t busy in Newport either. The hotel wasn’t booked to capacity. The odds of Fiona and Jake being in the same place at the same time were quite high.

Fiona had paled at this notion. “Run into him? Run into Jake Pearson? Are you insane?” She’d let out a high giggle as if she might actually be the insane one. “I don’t want to meet him. I think I’d drop dead at his feet if I saw him in person.” Fiona had fanned her face. “God, I just want to worship him from afar.”

“And have some personal belonging of his.”

“Right. See? You understand.”

Only Kat hadn’t. Not really. “What will you do with this stolen item?”

“Cherish it until my dying day.” Fiona had sighed and pressed her hand to her heart. “Look, you do this for me and not only will I consider it an acceptable Christmas gift, but we will also be totally square on what I did for you.”

Kat couldn’t refuse that. Not when the request was viewed as payment… for something Kat would never really be able to pay in full.

“Fine.” She’d huffed out a breath. “But you’d better set aside some bail money. Just in case.”

Now, as she stood in the hallway at Jake Pearson’s hotel room door, her palms were soaked and her heartbeat was loud enough for the world to hear. If she got caught in his room—any guest’s room really—she’d lose her internship and fail her final class. She’d probably be denied a request for another internship because her reputation would be shot. To have come this close to earning her degree and then not get it would be a tragedy. An expensive one.

But it’s for Fiona.

Fiona who hadn’t let anything stop her from rescuing Kat when she’d needed it most.

Kat lifted a shaking hand and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob. Hotel gossip had told her Jake and his people were having breakfast with another musician in town at her Newport mansion. His room should be empty for a few hours. Plenty of time for her to pop in, swipe a T-shirt he’d never miss, and get the hell out.

She slipped the keycard into the slot, the little light taking forever to flash from red to green. With a glance to the left and right, Kat verified she only shared the hallway with a Christmas tree. The flickering lights adorning it, however, reminded her of flashes from a camera. Would that tree catch her in the act? Would the hotel put security cameras in a Christmas tree?

Don’t be an idiot.

Kat turned the knob and pushed the door open. Surprised that the curtains were still drawn, she slid into the darkness and closed the door behind her. The air conditioner was pumping and the room was freezing. Not too many people ran the air conditioner during a New England December. A light dusting of snow covered Newport for crying out loud. Why would anyone want it this cold inside?

She ran her hands up and down her bare arms, wishing she’d worn a sweater over her green, short-sleeved sheath dress. The rest of the hotel wasn’t this frigid, and when she was working, she usually ran on the warm side.

Especially when she was breaking and entering.

Fiona, Fiona, Fiona. The actions may have been wrong, but Kat’s intent to compensate her best friend propelled her deeper into the room.

The lush carpet muted her steps, and Kat felt like a nighttime critter, prowling the streets, using the shadows for cover. Of course, the darkness made it hard for her to locate something to steal for Fiona. She should have brought a flashlight, but she hadn’t thought about that, this being her very first—and hopefully last—foray into burglary.

I’ll just slide one of the curtains open a bit. That would provide enough light for her to search the room.

Kat crept closer to one of the room’s large windows and tugged the curtain over to the right a bit. When she turned away from the window, a long rectangle of sunlight cut into the carpet a few feet in front of her.

Revealing a pair of bare feet.

A man’s bare feet.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not room service?”

Kat squeaked, incapable of forming a single word. She bolted for the door, but he was faster.

Tune in tomorrow for Chapter Two! In the meantime, head on over to Small Town Hearts on Facebook and enjoy holiday fun with me. 

Happy Holidays!

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com