The Trouble with Mistletoe. Jennifer Snow

room reservation and spa booking at the resort. She’d been putting it off, unsure if her workload would allow her to take a full week or just a couple of days. She certainly needed it. Sixteen successful acquisitions this year had exhausted her.

      The bell above the door chimed as Luke entered. A snowdrift followed him in and he stomped his boots on the mat near the door. A broad grin spread across his older but still handsome face. The radiance reflecting in his ice-blue eyes drew her in and, for a moment, she forgot why she was here. Her breath caught at the familiar sight that used to make her pulse race. Like it did now.

      He moved past her to take a heavy box from the boy. “You can head out now, Steve. The snow is falling hard, and I told your mom I’d send you home before it gets dark.”

      “Are you sure, Uncle Luke? There’s still a lot of boxes out there and the grand reopening is—”

      “I’m sure.” Luke cut him off with a quick glance in Victoria’s direction. “Here’s the money for today and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He handed the boy several bills and his coat and gave him a friendly push out the door. “Call or text me when you get home.”

      “Okay.” The boy nodded, tugging his hat over his head.

      Luke pointed a finger. “Don’t forget, like last time.”

      “I won’t.” Steve zipped his coat as he closed the door behind him. He jogged down the street, past the window, his head bent against the blowing snow.

      She did the math. Alisha Dawson, Luke’s older sister, had been six months pregnant when Victoria had left town.

      Luke coughed.

      She turned to face him. “Grand reopening?”

      He nodded. “That’s right. Next weekend, just in time for the last-minute shoppers,” he said, carrying several empty boxes to the back room.

      Victoria collided with the swinging door as she followed him. She bit the inside of her cheek. Reopening with more stock for the Christmas season could generate significant profit for the small store. That would complicate a sale and drive the buyout price higher. “Well, hopefully, you won’t need to reopen. Play Hard Sports usually pays more than market value for the stores they purchase.” It made dealing with their acquisitions a pleasure.

      She moved out of Luke’s way as he pushed past with more empty boxes.

      He placed the broken-down cardboard under one arm. “I told you I’m not selling the store, so if that’s all you came for, you can go.” Picking up two large garbage bags, he headed for the front. “Right after you get the door for me.”

      Same old Luke.

      She refused to let their personal history distract her or forget her professionalism. Just because they’d been best of friends since the second grade when Luke had stood up for her against bullies in the school yard making fun of her braces and thick glasses. This was business. She pushed the front door open and stepped back to let him pass. But she couldn’t let him go without asking, “Why on earth did you buy this store?” She shivered as a gust of wind blew her blond hair across her face.

      Luke studied her, his piercing eyes now void of emotion. “It must be worth something. Why else would your company send someone all the way out here to acquire it?”

      Victoria’s gaze fell to his left hand. No wedding band. The relief she experienced both irritated and confused her.

      “Well, we’re not actually interested in owning this store. My company’s client ran into complications obtaining a permit to build one of their own locations, with Legend’s still doing business nearby.”

      “Well, I guess they’re out of luck. I just bought the place and I plan on keeping it.” Luke collected the discarded packing paper, crumpled it and tossed it into a waste basket near the counter.

      “I’m surprised that you want to own a run-down sporting goods store.” Her eyes narrowed. The Luke she used to know would rather build and remodel the old-fashioned buildings in the downtown core, not own a business in one of them. He’d always had a talent for designing and building things. When they were kids, his derby cars were always the best in the race, and she remembered the lemonade stand he’d made her from the wood left over from building his sister’s tree house. The stand had been the summer hotspot for all their friends that year.

      “We haven’t spoken in a long time. Maybe I’m not the same guy you remember.” Pulling a Swiss Army Knife from his jeans pocket, he tore into the remaining cardboard boxes, breaking them down.

      Victoria watched him work. She had noticed the changes in him, despite her best efforts. Time had been good to him. He was bigger now, muscular and slightly wider around the waist. No longer the physique of a struggling architectural student. His face showed signs of maturity, but the fine lines around his mouth and eyes only enhanced his gorgeous, blond looks. The temptation to touch the five-o’clock shadow along his jaw was overpowering.

      Luke straightened and his gaze met hers. “Besides, this store has a history in the community. That means something to most of us.”

      Of course. Luke had worked in the store every summer when they were teenagers. Maybe his interest in preserving it made sense. “Okay, well I guess we should get to work.” She faked a smile, forcing her professionalism. She didn’t need or want to get to know this man over again. What she wanted was for him to sign her contract so she could get out of Brookhollow. “I’ll have an offer by Wednesday, but we should go over the preliminary paperwork as soon as possible.” She scanned the store for a place to lay out her documents. “The major chain store interested in purchasing Legend’s Sporting Goods is—”

      Luke turned off the lights and unplugged the multicolored Christmas strand draped across the window. Only the glow from the pole lamp outside illuminated them.

      “Do you prefer we do this in the dark?” she asked sarcastically.

      He slid into his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck. “I have dinner plans.” He stood next to the door.

      The familiar scent of his musky cologne made her pulse race. She suddenly remembered the nights she’d fallen asleep in his T-shirt, when he’d been away at college, enveloped by that smell. “Tomorrow, then.” She opened the door and stepped out into the frigid air. “I’ll come by in the morning,” she said through the icy burst of wind and snow. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a silver monogrammed cardholder. She popped it open with a manicured fingernail and slid one of her cards free, handing it to Luke.

      “Your card?”

      “It has my cell number on it.” Her teeth chattered. The sun had almost disappeared and the temperature drop in the last half hour was significant.

      “Victoria, this is Brookhollow.” He laughed. “I could stand in the center and call out to you, and wherever you are, you’d hear me.”

      The rich, deep sound of his laughter wasn’t at all the boyish laugh she remembered.

      “What?”

      “Nothing.” Her cheeks flushed and she looked away. “Anyway, let’s not test that theory. Use the cell number.” But he was right; the card was unnecessary. If he needed to find her, it wouldn’t be hard. She shivered again, wishing she’d packed a warmer coat. The pretty white cashmere did nothing for warmth.

      Her cell rang in her purse and, tugging off a glove, she dug around in the side compartment until she found it. The office number flashed on the screen. Shoot. In her stress over returning to town, she’d forgotten to check in. “Hello?” she answered, turning away from Luke.

      “Victoria, it’s…” Static scrambled the receptionist’s voice.

      “Kim…Kim, you’re breaking up.” She moved a few feet down the street. “Can you hear me?”

      “Victoria?”

      “Yes, I’m here. Can you hear me?” Silence. Victoria