The Christmas Competition

by Zoe Allison

Genres: General Fiction; Romance; Contemporary Romance; Holiday Romance

Synopsis

Long time nemeses and rival neighbors butt heads in a fierce competition for first place in their neighborhood’s Christmas house-decorating competition in this high-spirited holiday romance.

The local rumor mill in Nisa Ansari's small highland town is swirling about the downfall of her marriage, and in desperate need of a distraction, she enters her town’s Christmas house-decorating competition. The competition comes with the added bonus of getting on neighbor Kerr Murdoch’s last nerve. It’s the least she could do, considering her ex-husband left Nisa for Kerr’s girlfriend. And maybe if Kerr smiled or cracked a joke—just once!—his girlfriend would’ve stayed, and Nisa wouldn’t find herself alone during the holidays.

Introverted Kerr has trouble feeling comfortable around people he doesn’t know well. Newly single, he decorates his house in remembrance of his mother, who always had a soft spot for Christmas lights. But when Nisa's and Kerr’s decorations end up nearly identical, he incurs Nisa’s wrath.

This means all-out war, complete with gaudy wreaths, twinkle lights, and too many reindeer to count. Never mind that Nisa can’t keep her eyes off Kerr’s toned forearms. Or ignore that he’s a pet-loving veterinarian with a heart of gold. After conceding to her husband’s wishes for years, Nisa is determined to get her way. But as Christmas draws near, Nisa must decide what she actually wants: the familiar rivalry she’s had for years with Kerr, or opening herself up to the chance to fall in love with someone new.

Release date: October 20, 2026

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 384

Sample

Nisa

No, I can't go for dinner with you, Bernard."

"Why not?" He pursed his lips, pondering. "Is it because I don't have a nice enough car?"

I glanced at the mobility scooter in the corner of the single hospital room. "Nah, you've got a sweet ride there," I said as I positioned the blood pressure cuff on Bernard's arm. "This will get tight now, but not for too long."

His wispy white eyebrows tugged together as he studied my face. "Then what is it? Obviously, I respect your decision. But I'd like to know if it's something remediable."

I pressed the button to begin the reading. "Hmm. I wouldn't say that it's remediable, unfortunately."

His face fell and I felt a pang of sympathy for him. "But through no fault of your own," I added, shooting him a smile. "It's because, firstly, I'm your nurse and nurse-patient relationships are forbidden in our code of ethics. And, secondly . . . you are roughly fifty years older than me."

His eyebrows drew together again as he considered my words-as if he'd forgotten that he was in fact eighty-five rather than thirty-five. Which was a possibility as he did have a degree of cognitive impairment, bless him. "I suppose those are valid points," he said.

I laughed, but quickly put a lid on it when I heard how it reverberated around the small room.

Just then my good friend and colleague, Rona, knocked and entered the room. "Afternoon, Nisa. Bernard-hope you're keeping out of trouble?"

"Of course, Doctor," Bernard said, ever charming.

Rona smiled. "That's me clocking off now, Nisa. Unless there's anything else you need?"

I shook my head. "All good, thanks! Have a great evening."

She eyed me for a moment, studying my face in the way she had been frequently doing of late. "Can I have a quick word before I go?"

"Sure," I told her as I turned back to Bernard and removed the blood pressure cuff. "No problems here, Bernard. I'll see you on my next round."

He gave me a nod and a wistful smile. "Until we meet again, have a lovely day." I had a sneaking suspicion that old Bernard had game when he was younger.

We went out into the deserted corridor. "Everything okay?" I asked Rona.

She touched my arm. "That is exactly the question I was going to ask you."

I blinked, eyes prickling as the familiar lump rose in my throat. "I'm fine, thanks. I was just a little overemotional this morning, that's all."

She put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. "You weren't overemotional, Nisa. Your feelings are perfectly valid."

"I know," I said, sniffing and clearing my throat. I really did not want to burst into tears again today. "It's just lonely at home, you know? Especially with Christmas coming up."

"I know," she said, empathy shining in her blue eyes. "I'm always here if you need me though. Call me anytime."

I nodded as Rona dropped her arm, then I took a deep, fortifying breath. "It's all good, anyway. I'm sure Drew will be back before too long. It's just a phase he's going through. Next year we can start afresh and it'll be like this separation never happened." This was my internal mantra whenever I became overwhelmed with sadness. Surely if I believed hard enough then I could manifest it.

Rona blinked, pausing as if carefully considering her words. "Mm. And do you think . . . that's still what you really want?"

I frowned. "Of course. More than anything." I never wanted to separate in the first place. Rona had been privy to every devastating blow since Drew had left me earlier this year, and she'd been a supportive ear for my outpouring of grief over the loss of my relationship. Why would she think I no longer wanted him back?

Rona nodded quickly, touching my arm in a reassuring manner. "Let's get together for coffee soon."

I schooled my face back into a smile. "Absolutely. Or better yet, one of my signature hot chocolates. 'Tis the season, after all."

Rona smiled widely. "Sounds awesome." She gave me a wave and headed off along the corridor toward the front door.

I turned, about to return to the ward office, when one of my nurses came hurrying down the corridor-practically skidding to a halt on the linoleum as he reached me.

"Charge Nurse Arbuthnot," Malc said, a little breathlessly as he blinked behind his round glasses.

I gave my most junior nurse a soft smile. "It's Nisa, Malc." Everyone called me Nisa at the community hospital-Charge Nurse was too formal for our tiny and close-knit team. In any case, I wasn't really an Arbuthnot at the moment, not since Drew had walked out on me. But I deliberately hadn't gotten a new ID badge with my maiden name-Ansari-on it. Because that would mean I was giving up on my marriage, and I was nowhere near ready for that.

"Nisa," Malc said hesitantly, trying the two syllables carefully, as if they might explode. "Claire said to come and fetch you. We have a bit of a situation that requires your attention."

"No problem," I told him. "What's up?"

"Mrs. Jenkins has stolen Mrs. Ferguson's walking frame again, and they're having a stand-up argument about it in the middle of the ward," Malc told me, keeping his voice low in a conspiratorial manner.

Joan Jenkins had taken a shine to Edna Ferguson's walking aid, because Edna had pimped hers up by winding red tinsel around the frame. As if that wasn't an obvious enough sign that the stolen frame wasn't Joan's, it also had the name Edna hanging from the top bar in green and red felt.

"Lead the way," I told Malc, sighing as I rolled my eyes. Although deep down I couldn't say that I minded, really. The antics at the Inverglen Community Hospital were a good distraction from my marital problems. I'd already gone overboard in an attempt to distract myself with various tasks around the facility; the cupboards on every ward and in every office were now organized to the nth degree. I'd even brought in my label maker and attached labels to everything I could find. My senior nurse Claire had joked that she was worried I was going to start sticking labels on all the staff and patients.

I had also gone all out in decorating the hospital a tad early for Christmas, hoping to muster a bit of festive spirit not only for my patients but also for myself. Uncharacteristically, I was having difficulty in that department this year, what with facing my first Christmas alone.

Normally this was my favorite time of year, and decorating the ward was a job I always relished and took great pride in. This year I had erected a large, brightly decorated Christmas tree in the foyer, placed smaller ones on both wards, and put mini trees in the single rooms and staff office. I had also strung tinsel along the ward walls and placed those sticky gel decorations in the shape of Santa, snowflakes, and reindeer on all the windows. But so far my festive spark was still sputtering.


Eventually, I managed to separate Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Ferguson, return the walking frame to its rightful owner, and also relieve Mrs. Ferguson of the hearing aid she had stolen from Mrs. Jenkins in retaliation. I also pimped Mrs. Jenkins’s frame with silver tinsel and a homemade glittery name badge that said Joan, in the hope that jazzing up her walking frame would lessen the temptation to steal Mrs. Ferguson’s again. Then, finally, it was time to clock off for the evening.

I climbed into my Mini, breath puffing into clouds of condensation in the cold air, and set off down the winding country road that led through the hills toward home.

A thick frost glistened on the tarmac and coated the fields and bare trees in glittering white, as if snowfall had already arrived in mid-November. I always felt that there was something magical about winter in the Highlands, and this notion was amplified as I reached the outskirts of town where the first of the Christmas sparkle came into view. Some of the houses had chosen to get their trees up early, and I was treated to the sight of shiny baubles and twinkly fairy lights draped around lush green trees standing proudly on display in cozy-looking living room windows.

Perhaps that was it! When I got home I could make myself a mug of my signature hot chocolate and put my tree up early. Making my home festive might provide the much-needed distraction I had been searching for and also fire up my festive spirit. I smiled as I continued on my way home, hopeful that my Christmas spark awaited me there.

Chapter Two

Kerr

The smoky-gray cat stared at me from inside its carrier, its amber eyes wide and unblinking.

"There now," I murmured, keeping my voice low and steady. "I'm not going to hurt you, puss."

A stifled squeak emerged from the corner of the veterinary office and I glanced up to find my new nurse, Stacey, making a strange expression. Stacey had not long finished her veterinary nurse diploma, after studying and then working in Aberdeen. She had been born and bred in Inverglen and had decided that she wanted to come home to be near her family, in particular her wee nephew. And so I had taken her on when my previous nurse had moved away.

This was her first week working with us. I knew that she didn't usually communicate in squeaks, having managed to get through a virtual interview using normal words and sentences, and so I guessed that she must have stubbed her toe or something. But this was no time to be distracted by my staff's minor ailments, not when I had a frightened feline on my hands.

"Okay," I soothed, slowly and carefully opening up the top of the carrier so the cat was exposed, then gently shifting my hand to stroke him from head to midsection. "There we go now, you're safe with me."

Something sounding like a sigh emerged from Stacey's direction, so I glanced up with a frown. "You all right?" If she was about to keel over or something, then better for her to leave the room so as not to disturb little Smudge here.

She nodded quickly, biting her lip. "Mm-hmm."

With a shrug, I shifted my attention back to Smudge, easing my hands ever so carefully around the cat and lifting him to my chest where I cuddled him, continuing to speak in a low and soothing voice and stroking the cat's head with one hand while holding him close with the other.

The wee thing's racing heart gradually began to slow and I gave him a few more minutes of soothing before signaling to Stacey to get into position to help hold him for examination.

Easing Smudge onto the table, I waited for Stacey to place her gloved hands onto him before I released the cat in favor of my stethoscope. His heart and breathing sounded fine, and I gave his head a stroke as I palpated his tummy.

Eventually, once I was satisfied that there was nothing wrong, I gave Stacey the nod to release Smudge and I placed him back into the carrier-after giving him an obligatory cuddle, of course.

Closing the carrier again, I lifted my gaze to find myself caught in the unblinking blue-eyed stare of Stacey. What the hell was wrong with this woman? "Can you take him back through to Mrs. Henderson, please?" I asked, shifting from one foot to the other as a prickle of discomfort itched at my skin. "All fine, nothing to worry about at all."

"Of course, Dr. Murdoch. I mean, Kerr," she corrected herself, blushing. At least she'd managed to catch herself, saving me from parroting "Please, call me Kerr" for the millionth time that day.

Stacey lugged Smudge's carrier out of the examination room as I washed my hands, then set about typing up my notes. Barely two minutes had passed when Stacey peered around the office door. "Erm, Mrs. Henderson would like a word with you. She says she simply must thank you for saving wee Smudgey Wudgey's life," she said, impressively keeping a straight face as she delivered that message verbatim.

Using an almighty dose of willpower, I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. "Fine," I said, on a sigh, standing and rolling my shoulders, which had suddenly concertinaed into a tense mass of muscle. Even that movement seemed to set Stacey staring, and so I hurriedly excused myself from her presence, asking her to tidy up the office for the evening.

I strode confidently down the clinic hallway, attempting to cover up my aversion to this next interaction, and emerged into the waiting area to find Mrs. Henderson making coochy-coo noises through the front of Smudge's carrier and promising every reward under the sun for "being such a bwave widdle soldier."

The corner of my mouth twitched, but it hastily fell again as Mrs. Henderson clocked my presence and flung herself at me, wrapping her skinny arms around my middle and pressing her face into my blue, scrub-top-covered chest. For such a tiny-framed person she was doing a very good job of squeezing the life out of me. "Oh, Dr. Murdoch! You're my savior. Thank you for saving my Smudge's life. I can't thank you enough!"

I stood there, my arms hanging helplessly at my sides, that itchy sensation of discomfort making an unwelcome reappearance. I felt like an awkward giant compared to this wisp of an elderly woman and had no idea how I was supposed to react to having her Velcroed to my front. "I mean, I didn't really save his life, Mrs. H. He was completely fine. It must have just been a hairball he brought up-"

"Ach, you're just being modest! You're a miracle worker, Dr. Murdoch."

I shifted a little, hoping that might shake her off, but she didn't budge. She was like a waxed-jacketed, headscarf-wearing limpet. "It really was nothing. Definitely no miracles involved."

Mrs. H pulled back and relief flooded my veins at my imminent release. But then instead of dropping her arms, she kept them around my waist, dousing my short-lived relief in cold disappointment. "Well, you're a hero to me because my Smudge is just as precious as my dear old husband was."

I lifted a hand to run through my hair, words failing me. Just then I caught the amused smirk of my receptionist, Ranjeeta, and I poured all my efforts into infusing a pleading look into my eyes. Help me.

She seemed to get the message because she left her post, still smirking, and came around the front desk to lift Smudge's carrier. "Come now, Mrs. H. Let me carry Smudge to your car. He'll be wanting home for a treat."