Mistletoe on Main Street

Book 1: The Briar Creek Series

by Olivia Miles

Genres: Holiday books; Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Holiday Romance

Synopsis

Sleigh bells, snow, and second chances . . . Briar Creek's quaint shop windows, cozy homes nestled in snow, and neighborly residents are what Christmas dreams are made of--for everyone except Grace Madison. She left her hometown years ago to pursue a writing career. But when her father's death leaves his bookstore empty, Grace must return to face why she fled Vermont in the first place: Luke Hastings, who still heats her up like a shot of smoky whiskey on a cold winter's night. Grace is back, and Luke is worried. How much has she changed as a bestselling author in the big city? What memories will she stir up? And was the choice he made five years ago the biggest mistake of his life? Now, with their past, present, and future rocking around the Christmas tree, it's time for Grace and Luke to face the music . . . and the mistletoe.

Release date: September 30, 2014

Publisher: Forever

Print pages: 387

Sample

Pretty as a postcard.

As much as she wished to deny it, Grace Madison knew that nothing could top Vermont at Christmastime. Drawing to a stop as the snow-dusted road rounded a bend, she stared at the bridge in the near distance, her lips pursed with displeasure. Snow was falling slow and steady, neatly covering the slanted roof in a white blanket. Someone had hung a wreath complete with a red velvet bow just above the arched opening, and icicles gave a natural picot edging to the red-hued truss.

With a sigh, Grace pressed on the accelerator and drove across the bridge, over the frozen water below, and into her childhood home of Briar Creek. The hand-painted sign to the side of the road welcomed her, boasting of a population the size of her city block in Manhattan.

Make that her old city block in Manhattan, she corrected herself.

She continued down the familiar path, turning onto Mountain Road as the sun began to dip over the Green Mountains. Grace flicked on her windshield wipers and fumbled for her headlights, cursing herself for not having learned the way around her rental car when she’d first picked it up. She scrambled with the gadgets around the steering wheel, smiling in grim satisfaction when the warm yellow glow illuminated the vast stretch of road before her. It was times like this when she remembered why she truly did prefer city life. This was the first time she had driven a car in… well, longer than she should probably admit. She and Derek never kept a car in the city—when they needed to go somewhere, they just hailed a cab.

Derek. No need to think about him now. With thinning lips Grace reached over and snapped off the radio and the depressing reminders of its melodies, but as silence encroached and left her alone with her darkening thoughts she abruptly flipped it back on, desperate to find a station that wasn’t bleating Christmas carols with limited interruption. Surely there must be a talk radio station somewhere. Something that wasn’t a painful reminder of how lonely this Christmas was going to be for her.

Her windshield wipers were in overdrive, in a vain attempt to keep up with the swiftly falling flurries. Wind swirled the flakes, stirring them up from the road in front of her, blinding her path. She slowed her pace to a near crawl, wrapping her hands tighter around the steering wheel, and squinted through the pellets beating against the windshield.

Her tires skidded on a patch of ice, causing her heart to drop into her stomach, and she eased off the gas, fumbling for control until the car came to an abrupt stop.

Grace opened her eyes and looked around. She was staring at a wall of snow as high as the hood of her car. The woods around her were eerily quiet, and the only sound to be heard was the thumping of her own heart.

She swore under her breath. She not only had to figure a way to get the car on the road again but, unfortunately, she also still had to continue the drive. As if this trip wasn’t bad enough already.

She checked herself quickly. She was not dead, or even injured, save the pinch mark on her arm where she managed to convince herself she really was still here. The impact had been comically soft, leading to nothing but complete aggravation about a trip that was already stressful enough. The ear-piercing scream she had released as the nose of the car collided with the snow pile had obviously been an overreaction—fortunately, no one was around to hear it. That also meant there was no one around to help, either.

The snow had turned heavy and wet, so that the flakes no longer flurried in the wind but instead created a dense blanket on the hood of the car. Gritting her teeth, Grace slid the transmission into reverse and gently pressed the gas pedal. When nothing happened, she gave it a little more force, wincing at the sound of her spinning tires. She clenched her hands around the steering wheel, feeling the panic squeeze her chest, and tried again. Nothing.

Without giving it any thought, Grace whipped off her seat belt and pushed open the car door. The wind howled around her, whipping her long, chestnut-brown hair across her face. The stretch of road before her was depressingly barren. The sun was starting to disappear over the mountains in the distance. It would be dark before long, and this old back road hadn’t seen a plow all day. By nightfall, it wouldn’t even be granted the light from a streetlamp.

Quickly, Grace walked to the front of the car, pressed her palms against the edge of the hood, and gave it a hard push, grunting at the effort. Four more attempts left her exhausted and upset. It was time to call for help. For not the first time today, she wished that Derek was here. This never would have happened if he had been driving.

Foolishness! She climbed back into the car, turning up the radio for company as she searched for her cell phone. It wasn’t that she wanted Derek here—after all, they were over. Finished. She’d given back the ring; they had ended on good, if chilly, terms. No, she didn’t want Derek here, not rationally speaking. She just wanted the things that Derek could provide, or at least, once had. Security, stability, safety. Comfort and joy. Good tidings of comfort and—Oh, that blasted Christmas carol!

Grace flicked off the radio and kept it that way. The last thing she needed right now was to get worked up. She had promised her mother she would arrive in time for dinner, and the last thing she owed anyone in her family was a frown by way of greeting. It would defeat the whole purpose of coming home at all.

She sighed again as she rummaged through her overstuffed handbag, still in search of her phone. Finding it buried beneath two candy bar wrappers and a receipt for the Christmas gifts tucked into her bags, she scrolled through the list of her family members until she found her youngest sister’s number.

“Hello?” Jane’s voice was barely audible above the clanking of pots. In the background, Grace could make out her mother’s voice, followed by that of her middle sister, Anna. No doubt they were gathered in the warm, cozy kitchen right now, hovering around the big island that anchored the family home, squabbling over which side dish they should make, or who would cover the dessert. She imagined her little niece, Sophie, watching a classic holiday movie or making out her list for Santa.

Grace hesitated as she considered the gift she had bought Sophie for Christmas. She had no firsthand experience with four-year-olds, and Jane was forever raving about how quickly children changed. The last time Grace had seen her had been in the spring, and the time before that was when Sophie was only a year old when Jane and Adam had visited New York for a long weekend. She had been startled by how different Sophie looked nine months ago, and reminded of how much she had missed by staying away all these years.

Well, all the more reason to chin up and make this Christmas count. It was time to start making up for lost time. Time to stop wallowing in her own sorrow.

“Hey there—”

“Where are you?” Jane hissed through the crackling connection.

Grace frowned. “What kind of greeting is that?” She considered turning the car around right then and there. She could be back in the city by midnight, tucked into her bed with a bowl of her favorite Thai delivery and one of those feel-good Christmas movies that they played by the dozen this time of year. But then she remembered that she wasn’t exactly feeling the holiday cheer this year. And that she was stuck in a rental car on a snow embankment on one of Briar Creek’s most remote roads. And that she no longer had her own bed or her own apartment to hide in. All of her possessions that weren’t locked in a storage unit in Brooklyn, New York, were crammed into four bags in the trunk of this car. Damn it.

“Sorry,” Jane said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… stressed. You know how it is.”

Yes, Grace did. This time of year always brought out a hyper, frenzied side to their mother, who would be fretting for weeks in advance over table arrangements and menus, who would stand twenty feet back from the porch and scrutinize the pine garland with narrowed concentration, until her three daughters would shiver with cold, finally rolling their eyes and retreating inside to the warmth of the fire while their father stood patiently awaiting her suggestions, adjusting the garland to her satisfaction with an amused twitch of his lips.

Kathleen Madison was hailed the “Christmas Queen” of Briar Creek. Their house won the Holiday House contest twelve years in a row, until Kathleen deemed it in poor taste to continue, graciously stepping aside to accept the role of judge. “Let’s give another family a chance,” she had whispered to the girls, suggesting that no one else in town even stood a chance so long as the Madisons were entered.

A freelance decorator, Kathleen saw Christmas as her biggest opportunity of the year. The interior of the Madison home was always finely detailed with a porcelain Christmas village in the bay window, and an antique train set looping around the spectacular Douglas fir that the family selected together each year at the tree farm. Twice the Madisons’ tree had appeared on the front page of the Briar Creek Gazette. Their annual cards were each laboriously calligraphied by Kathleen’s own hand, and she approached her holiday baking with the rigor typically reserved for army drills. Every neighbor, friend, and teacher looked forward to Kathleen’s homemade gift basket; the annual Christmas bazaar relied on her to deliver. And she always did.

“Are you still coming?” Jane asked, trepidation dripping from her words.

“Of course I’m still coming!” Grace squinted through the falling snow, searching for a sign of headlights.

Seeing nothing, she fell back against the headrest, considering Jane’s insinuation. She couldn’t blame her sister for being skeptical. With the exception of that painful spring morning nine months ago, Grace had managed to stay clear of her hometown and the memories it held. Five years had passed since she’d first left home—not knowing at the time it would be for good—and each year that stretched successfully distanced her further from her past, until eventually her life was tied to New York, not the sleepy New England town. And definitely not to anyone in it.

“I told you I would be there by dinner,” she added, furrowing her brow through the whiteout. She flicked her windshield wipers a notch higher. It was no use.

“I just wanted to be sure…” Jane trailed off as the connection began to crackle. “I didn’t know if you had changed your mind at the last minute because of… well, you know.”

“If you’re referring to the person we shall not name, you have nothing to worry about. I’ve avoided him for years, and I plan to avoid him for the next week, too.” Grace swallowed hard. It could be done. She’d stay at the house, reading books, baking cookies, and trying not to think about the proximity of her first love. Her first heartbreak. Or everything else she had lost recently. “Besides, I’m not even sure why you’re giving this any thought,” she added with more conviction than she felt. “He and I are ancient history.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “If you say so,” Jane said softly.

Grace bit down on her lip, knowing it would be useless to try to defend herself. Jane knew her too well; Grace couldn’t hide from her. Everyone in the family knew the reason why she had left Briar Creek and stayed away. It was all because of the man whose name they had promised never to say aloud in her presence. The man who could cause Grace’s stomach to twist, her blood to still, and her heart to break all over again, just by mere mention.

She had changed her mind about this trip at least a dozen times, but in the end she knew there was no way around it. There was no telling what would prevail in Briar Creek while she was here. The wounds it would open. The scars it would sear. Her life was crumbling enough as it was—she couldn’t risk any more upset.

Things were bleak. She’d managed not to think about it now for, oh—she checked the clock—seventeen minutes. Well, that was two minutes more than the last time she’d stumbled into her darkening thoughts. Her relationship wasn’t the only thing that was over. Her career was rapidly unraveling as well.

She firmed her mouth. She couldn’t think about any of this right now.

She slammed her foot on the accelerator, whimpering as the wheels ground deeper into the snow.

“Well, before you get here there’s something I wanted to talk about—”

Grace almost managed to laugh. Now was hardly the time to settle in for a long chat. “Can we discuss this later, Jane? I’m sort of stuck in a snowbank here.”

“What?” Jane’s voice was shrill, and Grace pulled the phone away from her ear, bringing it back in time to hear her sister say, “Should I call the police?”

“Relax,” she said, giving the pedal everything she had in her. “I’m fine. I just slid off the road and now I can’t get this,” she pressed on the gas once more, knowing it was pointless, but still hoping, “stupid car to move!”

“But you’re okay?” came Jane’s urgent reply, and Grace instantly regretted worrying her. With everything their family had been through in the past year, she knew all of them were feeling sensitive.

“Yes, I’m fine. We’ve been talking for minutes, haven’t we?” Grace put the car in park and trained her eye on the rearview mirror. “I just… I need you to come and get me. I’m going to have to call for a tow.” From the distance, Grace thought she detected the sudden glow of a car making its way through the darkness. She perked up, sitting straighter in her seat, watching intently as the headlights grow closer. Sure enough, the SUV slowed and then pulled to a stop in front of her. She bit back a smile as she began gathering her belongings, ready to make a swift getaway.

“Never mind, Jane,” she said quickly. “Someone just pulled up.”

“Oh, good,” Jane gushed. “So you’ll be here soon?”

“I’ll hitch a ride into town, but I might need you to meet me there.” She could wait in her father’s bookstore if need be—the thought of it brightened her. There was one silver lining to coming back to Briar Creek, at least. Main Street Books always had a way of making her forget her troubles.

“Okay. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you’re on your way.”

Grace disconnected the call, musing over their casual comfort at the mere notion of hitching a ride with a stranger. She would never consider such a thing elsewhere, if the opportunity was even granted. Things were different in these parts, though. If someone saw a car pulled over in Briar Creek, they’d stop and lend a hand. If the same situation happened in New York, they’d just keep on going.

A tapping at her window startled her and she quickly crammed empty coffee cups and evidence from an indulgent stop at a fast-food joint somewhere near the Vermont border into their bags. Smiling apologetically, she shifted to face the window, her breath locking in her chest when she saw Luke Hastings’s equally shocked face peering back at her.

She stared at him, not blinking, clutching a grease-stained paper bag to her heaving chest. This day keeps getting better and better. She had barely skidded past the town line, and she was already running into the one man she had hoped to avoid. Forever.

The lights from his black Range Rover beamed strong, and Grace noticed with a heaviness in her heart that he hadn’t lost his looks since she’d last seen him. If anything, his features had hardened into something more manly and strong. The fine lines around his dark blue eyes gave him character, and their deep-set intensity gave her the same rush it always had. Damn him.

Grace held his gaze, knowing she was trapped. She was at his mercy now. He could walk away, refuse to help, drive off and leave her stranded on this unlit mountain road. In a snowstorm. No man would do that, not even Luke. But oh, she bitterly wished he would.

For not the first time she found miserable irony in the fact that Luke was, and always had been, a gentleman.

Grace rolled down the window with the press of her finger. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

An inquisitive smirk passed over Luke’s rugged features. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“I’m here for Christmas,” she said tightly.

“Christmas isn’t for another week,” he said gruffly.

“So, it’s still my town.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Is it?”

Grace looked away. “You can be on your way, Luke. I just got off the phone with Jane; she can come and get me.” Her face burned as she fumbled in her handbag for her cell phone, blindly reaching for wherever it had landed.

Luke assessed the situation with a frown. “Looks like you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a jam.” He studied her. “Are you hurt?”

Grace pinched her lips and shifted her gaze from his scrutiny, but her eyes kept flitting back. Despite the winter chill that nipped at her nose and fingers, she felt overheated and stifled. “I’m fine, thank you. Everything is just… fine.” And it was, or it would be, when he left. When he turned his back and walked away, like he had all those years ago.

A hint of a smile passed over his lips. “Really.”

“Yes, really!” With that, Grace raised the window, feeling a moment of relief for the thin glass that separated her from… from the man whose name was never to be mentioned. She knit her brow and turned to glare at the steering wheel. Clenching her teeth, she pulled the car into reverse and hit the accelerator at full throttle. The tires spun loudly, but the car didn’t move.

Heart pounding, she stared despondently at the dashboard for a few seconds before shifting her eyes to Luke’s penetrating gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched, those blue eyes sparked, and Grace dragged a deep sigh, digging her nails into her palms.

He pointed his finger toward the car handle, gesturing for her to unlock it. His intense stare fused with hers, hooded by the point of his brow. His full lips spread thin, giving insight into his displeasure.

Well, the feeling was mutual, Grace thought with a huff. Tearing her attention from him, she unlocked the door. An icy cold wind whipped her in the face as she pushed open the door.

“What were you doing driving on this road in these conditions?” Luke demanded as she climbed out of the car. His dark hair spilled over his forehead, slick with snow. “You should have taken Oak or South Main.”

Grace yanked away his half-hearted gesture to help her, and he let his hand fall at his side. She narrowed her eyes at the smirk that curled at those irresistible lips. The lips she had known as well as her own. Every line, every curve, every taste. She squared her shoulders and met his eye stonily. “Well, I took Mountain Road, okay? Besides, I could say the same thing to you!”

Luke tipped his head. “Not really. I live off Mountain Road. And I have four-wheel drive.”

Grace bristled. She hadn’t even thought to take South Main, even though it would have been a straight shot into town. Somehow, subconsciously, she had driven herself in the direction of the one person she hoped to avoid. The little part of her that longed for something that could never be had overruled all rational thought. And now, well, she supposed she’d gotten what she’d wanted. She was standing here, staring into the face of the man she hadn’t seen, with the exception of that one, fleeting time she’d rather forget, in five years.

“I meant driving in the snow. At… this hour.” She motioned to the darkness all around them.

She watched as Luke fought off a smile. A sheen of amusement lit his eyes. He made a show of checking his watch. “It’s five o’clock,” he said. “And my place is just down that way, as you’ll remember.” The grin finally got the better of him.

“Well.” Grace inhaled sharply, the cold air slicing her lungs, and looked away. The snow was coming down in heavy, thick flakes. The hood of her car had already collected at least an inch, and her hair felt wet and heavy against her gray wool coat. Perfect snowman weather, she couldn’t help thinking. If she were feeling the Christmas spirit, that is—and she wasn’t. She most certainly wasn’t.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

“I told you. I’m on my way home.”

His jaw hardened. “Thought you said you were never coming back to Briar Creek.”

She glared at him. That was only half the story, and he knew it. “Jane asked me to come home,” she explained. “With everything that’s happened recently, I couldn’t exactly say no.”

Luke nodded slowly. “I suppose not.” He looked to the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“That’s a surprise. Word usually travels fast around here.” She folded her arms across her chest defensively, eyeing him through the falling snow.

He narrowed his gaze. After a beat, he murmured, “Yes. Yes, it usually does.”

With a sigh he broke her stare and wandered over to inspect the collision site. She waited to see if he would find amusement in her predicament, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood for laughs. The realization disappointed her, all at once reminding her of what they once had and no longer did. Standing here with the one person who knew her best, alone in the dark, on this cold mountain road, she had never felt more alone.

“Well,” Luke said, bending down to inspect the situation more closely. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to get it out of this bank on your own.”

“I’ll call for a tow truck then,” she said, rummaging through her bag and inadvertently setting a candy bar wrapper loose. She watched it whip through the wind, somewhere in the direction of the woods, and she could practically see Luke chuckling from her periphery. Finding her phone, she furiously tapped the number for information and waited. Nothing. Her breath caught in her chest as she pulled the phone from her ear and glanced at the screen. Connection lost. Of course.

She eyed Luke furtively, feeling her anger burn as a twinkle of enjoyment flashed through his blue eyes. Was this so easy for him? Did he not feel anything?

“No connection?”

“I had one a minute ago…” She exhaled deeply, and then rolled back her shoulders to fix her gaze on him. A rumble of something dangerous passed through her stomach as she studied his face. Would he ever not have this effect on her? “If you don’t mind going into town for a tow, I’ll just wait inside the car.” She paused, gritting her teeth as she hesitated on her next words. “Thank you.”

He looked at her like she was half crazy. “You think I’m going to go for help and leave you out here?”

She shrugged. “Why not? You’ve done worse to me.”

A flash of exasperation crossed his rugged features. He rubbed a hand over his tense jaw, his eyes sharp as steel. Grace knew that look, knew it all too well. She’d made him angry. Well, good.

“Get in my car,” he ordered, jutting his chin in the direction of his big black vehicle. “It’s freezing out here.”

Grace tried to suppress the shiver that was building deep within her. She’d be damned if she let him see how cold she was in her simple wool peacoat. She planted her feet to the ground, but it was no use. She shuddered, then inwardly cursed as Luke’s expression softened.

“Here, take my scarf.” He started walking toward her, but she reflexively took a step back. He stopped, his shoulders slumping. “Grace. Take the scarf.”

Grace lifted her chin, her lips thinning. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and her heart panged. There he was. Her sweet love. Luke Hastings. The love of her life. The man who had chased her through the icy waters of the creek in the heat of summer. The man who had taken her to bed in cool, cotton sheets. The man who had kissed her until she wept, the man who had held her until she couldn’t breathe. The man whose smile could warm her heart, and whose frown could stop it. The man who represented every part of her past, and who was supposed to have held every moment of her future. The man no one since had ever been able to live up to.

“Fine,” she muttered, reaching out to take the navy scarf. As she tied it around her neck, she subtly breathed into the fabric, closing her eyes to familiarity of the musky scent. She fingered the fringe at the bottom, knowing she had never seen Luke wear this scarf in all the years they were together.

She wondered when he had gotten it. She wondered if his wife had bought it for him.

“Your bags in the trunk?” Luke asked, and Grace nodded. Without another word, he popped the trunk and pulled out two large bags. He carried them low at his sides to his car and then returned for the second round. “You never did pack light,” he grumbled as he brushed past her.

Grace hung back as he loaded her belongings, and glanced despairingly at her rental car, which was obviously not going anywhere on its own. “Should have listened to my gut,” she whispered to herself. Shouldn’t have come here at all.

“You coming or not?” Luke called with obvious impatience.

Grace closed her eyes, shaking her head in the negative even as she began walking toward the glow of his taillights. Each crunch of snow under her boots brought her one step closer to the part of her she had tried to deny since the day she left this town for good. Each inch closer to Luke’s world took her further out of the one she had built for herself.

She reached the passenger door and yanked it open. If she stepped inside this car—Luke’s car—there would be no going back. She paused, her breath coming in ragged spurts. She wiped a strand of cold, wet hair from her forehead. Inside the car, Luke was watching her expectantly, the heat from the vents felt almost suffocating against the crisp evening air.

With one last breath for courage, she climbed inside and left the safety of her world behind with a slam of the door. Like it or not, she was back in Briar Creek. And so far, it was going even worse than expected.

The car was too quiet for his liking. Luke glanced sidelong at Grace, finding her pushed up against the passenger door, staring sadly out the window. His chest constricted at the familiar sight of her profile, the lift of her chin. He fought off a grin. She was still the same girl he’d fallen in love with nearly fifteen years ago. Still willful and proud.

He felt his lips thin. Proud to a fault, that’s what she was. He was never good at dealing with her when she was like this—petulant. Stubborn. Impossible. There had been a time when he’d found this quality in her endearing, but that was a long time ago.

Grace’s chestnut-colored hair hung in thick wet clumps at her shoulders and she combed her fingers through the matted tresses, flashing Luke back to all those summers spent splashing in Cedar Lake, the way she’d climb out of the water in that little red bikini, her long hair dripping down onto his face as she leaned him back on the warm sand, bending forward for a kiss.

She turned her bright green eyes on him, forcing him to look away.

“Music?” he suggested abruptly.

She shrugged. “Sure.” She leaned in to inspect the dashboard, finally finding the switch to the radio. A well-known Christmas carol burst out at maximum volume, startling her enough to jump. She laughed to cover her surprise and he grinned. He’d forgotten the sound of her laugh. Forgotten how much he liked it.

“Sorry,” he said, turning the dial. “I was listening to a rock station before I found you stranded on the side of the road.”

“Sure you were,” Grace bantered, then frowned. “You know, I wasn’t stranded on the—” She stopp. . .