Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
This trip to Jingle Hell just got worse.
I hadn’t known thought it possible…
“My horoscope said I’d be getting a blast from the past this Christmas, but I never expected you.” She cocks her head, her dimples popping as she adds, “Luke Ratcliffe, home at last. How are you, old friend?”
Chapter Two
HOLLY
A pet photographer who loves all things Christmas.
(Especially reindeer and anything from Kathy’s Kountry Store…)
“I’ve been better.” Luke tosses the leg behind him. It hits the hardwood floor with a dull thud before rolling to a stop by the case containing Percy Wheeler’s antique safety pin collection—the largest in the state.
But I can’t rip my gaze from the man in front of me. Seeing Luke in the flesh has me tingling inside my reindeer onesie. I take in how the decades have filled him out in the shoulders and suppress the urge to run my hands through that carefully styled light brown hair.
I heard the Ratcliffe siblings were back in town for the holidays, but I didn’t expect to run into Luke. He hasn’t been back to the Junction in years. Not since we were kids.
Rumor has it he’s a workaholic who spends the holidays at his office, poor thing.
Aw, that’s probably why he looks so shell-shocked right now. He doesn’t know how to relax and enjoy himself.
Well, we’ll fix that with a warm Jingle Bell Junction welcome.
Stepping forward, I throw my arms around him and wrap him up in a big hug, the bells on my antlers bopping him in the face as I move. He has a hefty height advantage over me, given I’m five foot two on a tall day—and way more muscles under that suit than I was expecting.
Apparently, he makes time for work and working out…
“Sorry,” I say with a little laugh as I pull back from the embrace. “Forgot about my antlers. Hazard of the holidays.”
But Luke doesn’t look amused.
He looks pissed.
And a little glassy-eyed.
Is he drunk?
It’s then that I begin to wonder what he’s doing in the town hall at night with no lights on, clutching Captain Herbert’s wood.
I flick my flashlight beam over to the display case to confirm that’s what he was holding when I walked in.
Yep. It was definitely a peg leg, the peg leg, the one destined for greatness tomorrow night at the Jingle Bell Junction annual tree trimming ceremony.
“What were you doing with the tree topper?” I ask.
Maybe he’s been granted the honor of hoisting it atop the giant fir. The Ratcliffe family owns half of the town, so I wouldn’t be surprised.
I also wouldn’t be sad if we all voted to pass on the peg leg one year and put a sparkling star—or maybe a reindeer doing a high kick—on the top of the tree, instead, but I respect tradition. And the eldest Ratcliffe hoisting the peg leg would be a great new one. Finally, Luke would be back in Jingle Bell Junction for the holidays every year, where he belongs.
“What am I doing?” He slaps a hand down on the display case. “I’m taking a damn stroll down memory lane, that’s what I’m doing. But it’s an unpaved dead end. None of this shit matters. The music, the holiday lights, the cookies, the stupid tree…none of it. Let ‘em stick a big wooden dildo in the town square for another hundred years. Who cares?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” I frown at him. “Have you been drinking?”
“Haven’t we all been drinking?” He waves his hand around like he’s giving a one-man show. “Really? When you come right down to it?”
I cover my mouth but can’t shield the fresh giggle that slips out. “Um, no. Not all of us, Luke.”
He cocks his head. “You keep saying my name. Do I… Do I know you?”
I’m a little disappointed that he doesn’t recognize me, though it makes sense, I guess. The last time he saw me, I was missing a couple of teeth and wore my hair in pigtails. I was eight years old to his ten and trailed after him like a klutzy puppy during snowball fights in the town square.
But he was always sweet to me.
And I only know what he looks like because everyone knows what the billionaire Ratcliffe boys look like. Their faces are all over the news and social media, and I’m not embarrassed to admit I’ve checked Luke out a few times over the years. When a girl happens to have shared a sled with one of the world’s most eligible billionaires, she likes to keep track of what that billionaire is up to—for storytelling purposes if nothing else.
It doesn’t hurt that the billionaire in question has compelling, bright blue eyes and wears the hell out of a suit.
But it’s clear Luke’s never done a social media deep dive on me—or even a shallow one.