Her Mistletoe Magic. Kristine Rolofson

      “That’s not—”

      “Really, Grace. Who hurt you and how long ago? I heard you were dating someone for quite a while, but he moved away. Was it an ugly breakup?”

      “His name was Josh. He got a job offer in Houston and he left me.” She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him.

      “Thank God for Houston’s booming economy,” Nico muttered.

      “The relationship was getting serious,” she continued, her voice soft. “Or so I thought. I trusted him and he walked away.”

      “You were in love with him.”

      “It felt like love at the time.” Grace saw the hurt flash in Nico’s eyes and wished she hadn’t been quite so honest.

      “He obviously wasn’t the right man for you.”

      “No. I know that now. But at the time? I was heartbroken. He wasn’t ready to get married, he said. He wasn’t ready to ‘take the next step.’ That was news to me, because he’d hinted at a future together and I’d believed him.” She tried for a smile. “I seem to attract men with commitment issues.”

      “No,” Nico said. “Those men just weren’t right for you. If that guy, the one who moved to Houston, had been the right guy you’d be eating tacos and drinking tequila right now.”

      “Nico—”

      “Just so you know, I have zero commitment issues,” he informed her. “I’m as loyal as Al.”

      Grace couldn’t help smiling at that statement.

      Nico continued. “I started to fall in love with you when I interviewed for the job here. The evening I asked you for a drink.”

      “But—”

      “Not because you were gorgeous. And wearing that red dress. Or because your hair was coming undone in a very sexy way. I fell for you when I saw you comforting a little girl. You really cared about her feelings and you took the time to make her feel better. I loved that. It made me want to know you.”

      “I was talking to Anna.”

      “Yes. I didn’t know who it was then—Marie told me later what had happened. If I’d only known it was her, I could have stepped in and been the big-hero uncle.” He smiled ruefully. “I didn’t see her face, but I saw yours.”

      “She was crying into a corner when I found her. It took a few minutes to get her to tell me what was wrong.”

      “I waited around until you came back, to ask you out. I was desperate to impress you, to convince you to talk to me.”

      “You were flirting.” And she’d thought he was a well-practiced charmer and would have none of it. “I was a tongue-tied mess,” he confessed. “I’ve been trying to get your attention ever since.”

      “You have not.”

      “I have,” he insisted. “Ask Patsy. She arranged the Secret Santa gift. I bought the birdseed as a cover.”

      “It worked. I was totally fooled. She set it up so I got your name, you know.”

      “I suspected from the way you blushed.”

      “I did not.”

      “You did.” He slipped his arms around her waist. “Could we start over? I rushed things, I know. I scared you.”

      “Only because I thought you seemed so...distant yesterday. I thought you were embarrassed that your family thought we were serious. The guys were teasing you about changing diapers and having kids.”

      “I was afraid they’d know how very serious I am,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to scare you off.”

      He kissed her then, and it was definitely not the kiss of a man who was just looking for a friend.

      “Can we start over?”

      Grace looped her arms around his neck, letting her crutch drop to the floor. “What did you have in mind?”

      “We could go out on a date. To the movies. Eat popcorn. Hold hands.”

      “Okay.”

      “We’ll have Sunday dinners with the family once in a while. Watch the Super Bowl. Emily has a dance recital coming up. We could go and cheer.” His hands tightened around her.

      “We could.”

      “Then on Valentine’s Day I come up with some clever way to surprise you with a great big diamond ring. I get down on one knee and beg you to marry me.”

      Grace blinked back tears as she looked up at him. He was serious. And he was nervous. “And when I say yes?”

      He broke into a smile. “We plan a Christmas wedding, which I know from experience you are very good at.” Nico pulled back from her, reached into his pocket and pulled out a little bundle of jingle bells. “I kept them for luck. What do you say?”

      “They’ll be perfect in the bridal bouquet,” she managed to say.

      “And we’ll live happily ever after?”

      “Of course we will.” She sniffed. “You, me and Al.”

      “And maybe a couple of little Vitellis.” His lips skimmed her mouth.

      “The more the merrier,” Grace whispered before she kissed him.

       Her Holiday Prince Charming

      Christine Flynn

      Can a single mom and a Scroogelike self-made millionaire find their fairy tale for Christmas? Christine Flynn delivers a tale of holiday magic in the latest installment of The Hunt For Cinderella!

      All Rory Linfield wants is to give her little boy a perfect Christmas. A new job and new home would be nice, too! So when a mysterious benefactor asks her to manage a shop in a picturesque seashore town, she eagerly accepts. The only catch? Her supergruff—and supersexy!—new boss.

      The last thing bachelor Erik Sullivan needs to deal with is an inexperienced “businesswoman.” Especially one whose gentle manner and vulnerable allure awaken feelings he’d rather let lie. No, it would be easier to keep his distance, because Rory and her son remind him all too much of things he once wanted, but couldn’t have. But then, this holiday season seems to be full of surprises…perhaps even a family under his tree?

      For the lovely ladies

      who have made the “Hunt” happen,

      and everyone who believes in the fairy tale.

       Prologue

      “What’s on your Christmas list this year? No matter how big or how small, you’re sure to find what you’re looking for at Seattle’s one-stop answer to all your holiday—”

      With a quick flick of the dial, Rory silenced the cheerful voice suddenly booming from her car radio. In an attempt to drown out her worries while she waited to pick up her son from kindergarten, she’d turned the music to a decibel she’d never have considered had her five-year-old been in the vehicle.

      The ad had just brought to mind the one thing she’d been desperately trying not to think about.

      She’d hoped to make the holiday special for her little boy this year. Not just special, but after