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A Mistletoe Affair
Farrah Rochon
The Silk Sisters–longtime friends Janelle, Sandra and Vicki–have turned their business savvy into a top-tier event agency. In the wealthy enclave of Wintersage, Massachusetts, there's an abundance of lavish parties, society drama and longing hearts to keep them busy. Floral designer Vicki Ahlfors is a shy, hopeless romantic. The dutiful daughter of a banking dynasty, she has always done what was expected of her–until she falls for her best friend's divorced brother.Attorney turned political strategist Jordan Woolcott has always defined himself by his work. Now at a crossroads, Jordan's not sure who he is, other than a dad to his young son, Mason. It's a rewarding job, but being a single father is so much harder than he'd ever imagined.Vicki has a magical touch when it comes to Mason, and her heart goes out to the overwhelmed Jordan. As feelings grow tender, will an explosive political scandal end their dream of forever before it even begins?
The Silk Sisters—longtime friends Janelle, Sandra and Vicki—have turned their business savvy into a top-tier event agency. In the wealthy enclave of Wintersage, Massachusetts, there’s an abundance of lavish parties, society drama and longing hearts to keep them busy.
Floral designer Vicki Ahlfors is a shy, hopeless romantic. The dutiful daughter of a banking dynasty, she has always done what was expected of her—until she falls for her best friend’s divorced brother.
Attorney turned political strategist Jordan Woolcott has always defined himself by his work. Now at a crossroads, Jordan’s not sure who he is, other than a dad to his young son, Mason. It’s a rewarding job, but being a single father is so much harder than he’d ever imagined.
Vicki has a magical touch when it comes to Mason, and her heart goes out to the overwhelmed Jordan. As feelings grow tender, will an explosive political scandal end their dream of forever before it even begins?
Her brow arched.
“So, this is our first date?”
“I’m not sure it started out that way, but that’s how I would like to end it.” He trailed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. “You said you didn’t want casual. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for anything more. But I am.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He nodded. “Casual doesn’t have the appeal it once did. I’m ready for something serious. Are you willing to take this to the next level, Vicki?”
It felt as if hours went by as she studied him, but it was only a few moments. Finally, she said, “So, how do you usually end your first dates?”
The smile that stretched across Jordan’s face was so wide it made his cheeks hurt.
“It’s been a while since I had a first date,” he said. “But if I remember correctly, it usually ends like this.”
He dipped his head and connected his lips to hers. The minute their mouths touched, Jordan was bowled over by the sheer softness of her lips, the sweetness of her delectable kiss. It had been so damn long since he’d felt anything even remotely close to the feelings racing through his blood that he had to slow himself down before he attacked her mouth with the passion suddenly coursing through his veins.
FARRAH ROCHON
had dreams of becoming a fashion designer as a teenager, until she discovered she would be expected to wear something other than jeans to work every day. Thankfully, the coffee shop where she writes does not have a dress code. When Farrah is not penning stories, the USA TODAY bestselling author and avid sports fan feeds her addiction to football by attending New Orleans Saints games.
A Mistletoe Affair
Farrah Rochon
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader (#ulink_3c4555a2-2aef-51be-bac2-ca8bdea024a6),
Have you ever wondered why love stories at Christmastime are so enduring? Year after year, bookstore shelves overflow with yuletide tales of love, laughter and sometimes even a little heartache. As I was writing A Mistletoe Affair, I finally figured out why these stories are so popular. It’s because the holidays and love go hand in hand. As you embark on this journey into the fictional seaside town of Wintersage, my hope is that the magic of the Christmas season touches you as deeply as I was touched while writing this story.
I would be remiss in not thanking fellow contributors to the Wintersage Weddings series, Mills & Boon Kimani authors A.C. Arthur and Phyllis Bourne. Bringing the town of Wintersage to life with the two of you was an amazing experience.
Blessings,
Farrah Rochon
For my aunt, Gail Becnel.
She looks well to the ways of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
—Proverbs 31:27
Contents
Cover (#uf656b459-1e79-585b-aefd-05ce54bfc337)
Back Cover Text (#u07f7a594-76a5-50f9-bcb8-cbdd31b3e397)
Introduction (#u070014f6-6325-58bd-91d5-0a07292e81f1)
About the Author (#uec041689-4d32-5d0b-ae21-048608093ffc)
Title Page (#u93f01e70-c6e2-5593-8b67-5ec5677d3b99)
Dear Reader (#ulink_b90265fb-a445-593a-89a4-7a39f5f01bfc)
Dedication (#uf1b303d3-6b95-577e-8f39-4a04618d5ba1)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_aa2abb0b-855f-5e4e-8f13-0cdb8df7341b)
Chapter 2 (#ulink_141408b5-efcd-5c30-98b6-752c32487173)
Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_f7b0ef96-e34b-5fcb-a083-64207237ca37)
Stealing a brief moment to decompress after a hectic morning of back-to-back-to-back customers, Vicki Ahlfors closed her eyes and inhaled a healthy lungful of rich, pine-scented air.
God, she loved this time of year.
The delicate perfume of tea roses in spring was lovely, but it couldn’t compare to the crisp freshness of balsam fir. The fragrant scent filling Petals, her floral-design shop, was a telltale sign that her favorite time of the year was finally upon her.
She snipped a wayward thatch of pine needles from the thick spray, then draped the nine-foot garland across her custom-made chest-high worktable. She gathered sprigs of deep red hypericum berries and, using floral wire, attached them to the garland in perfectly measured six-inch increments. She knew how precise Mr. Wallace liked his floral arrangements, and she would not give that old curmudgeon a single opportunity to complain about the treatments she’d designed for his front door this year.
“Oh, my goodness! It smells amazing down here.”
Vicki lifted her head to find Sandra Woolcott-Jacobs, one of her partners in crime in the Silk Sisters event agency, rounding the newel post at the base of the winding staircase. She walked over to Vicki’s workstation, leaned over the garland and pulled in a deep breath.
“I love this time of year,” Sandra said with a satisfied sigh. “Laurel Collins was hanging Christmas lights around the window of her gift shop when I walked past there this morning. I nearly broke out into ‘Jingle Bell Rock.’”
Vicki arched a brow in knowing amusement. “That may be the case, but for some reason I don’t think it’s just the time of year that has you singing these days.”
Sandra dipped her head, a coy grin lifting the corners of her mouth. “There may be another reason,” she admitted.
Vicki burst out laughing. “Sandra Woolcott-Jacobs, is that an actual blush forming on your cheeks?”
“Oh, stop it,” Sandra said, the blush deepening.
If that wasn’t a sign that Sandra had undergone a radical change since reconnecting with the love of her life, Vicki didn’t know what was. Isaiah Jacobs had swooped back into town and swept her girlfriend right off her feet.
“You’ve got that special newlywed glow,” Vicki said. “It looks really good on you.”
She denied the slight twinge of envy that pinched her chest, refused to even acknowledge its existence for fear that it would show on her face. She was thrilled for her friends. Truly, she was. Both Sandra and Janelle Howerton-Dubois, the third member of their trio, had found love in the past few months, and Vicki could not be happier for her two best friends.
But happiness and envy weren’t mutually exclusive. She was a multitasker; she could feel both.
“I can already tell that my first Christmas with Isaiah will be magical,” Sandra said with a look that could only be described as dreamy. “If you’re not booked solid already, I may have you put together a wreath for our front door.”
“You know I’ll make time for you,” Vicki said. “What about a tree?”
Another of those soft, faraway smiles graced Sandra’s lips. “I think we’re going to decorate that ourselves. It’ll be our first tree as a family.”
Vicki could barely contain her own wistful sigh. In the epic battle between happiness and envy, envy was winning by a landslide right now. There was no doubt about it, decorating her tree at home, once again by her lonesome self, would suck even more this year.
“I will, however, have you order our tree from the supplier you usually use,” Sandra said, finally coming out of her it’s-a-wonderful-life-with-Isaiah-induced daze. “Have you ordered the tree for the Victorian yet?”
Vicki nodded. “It’s being delivered later today. I was able to find the most gorgeous twelve-footer for the front parlor. It should fit perfectly in the curve of the staircase.”
Petals inhabited the majority of the first floor of the three-story Victorian she, Sandra and Janelle owned in their New England hometown of Wintersage. Dubbed the Silk Sisters since their high school days at Wintersage Academy, the three had gone into business together soon after college graduation. Swoon Couture, Sandra’s dress boutique, was on the second floor, and Janelle’s event-planning business, Alluring Affairs, occupied the third.
“The place looks great so far,” Sandra said, gesturing to the gathering room, which served as the lobby for all three businesses. The room’s focal point, a pillared, carved wooden mantelpiece, was festooned with silver ribbon, ice-blue glass ornaments and glitter-dusted seashells to bring in the essence of their seaside town.
“If you need help decking the halls, just give me a ring,” Sandra said.
Vicki waved off her offer. “You’ve got enough on your plate with getting Swoon Couture Home off the ground.”
Sandra and her new husband were starting a new venture, marrying her design business with Isaiah’s family’s furniture business.
“Only if you’re sure,” Sandra said.
“I’m sure. Besides, I get a bit territorial when it comes to holiday decorating.”
“Don’t I know it,” Sandra said with a snort. “One piece of tinsel out of place and the girl goes crazy.”
Vicki pointed her pruning shears at her. “If you even think about bringing a string of tinsel in here...”
“No tinsel! I promise.” She laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. “I’ll leave the decorating to you. I can’t wait to see the finished product.” Sandra started up the stairs, but stopped on the second step and called, “The Quarterdeck at seven?”
“I’ll be there,” Vicki returned.
Even though the Victorian served as their home base, it was rare for the three of them to be in one place at one time. Even when they were all here, they were so busy with their respective businesses that there was never much time for idle chitchat. Years ago they made a pact to meet on Monday nights for dinner, drinks and girl talk at the Quarterdeck, a landmark eatery on Wintersage’s waterfront.
They were in for some serious chatting tonight. These past couple of months had been a whirlwind of activity, with life-altering events happening for Sandra and Janelle.
After witnessing the transformation in both her friends’ lives, Vicki had decided it was time she undergo a few changes herself, on both the professional and personal fronts. She had sensed for quite some time that she was in a rut, but as far as ruts went, hers had been comfortable.
Honestly, what did she have to complain about? At twenty-eight years old she owned her own business, her own home, and had family and friends who loved her. She was blessed.
But she wasn’t happy. At least, not as happy as she wanted to be. As she deserved to be. Witnessing both her friends enter into that much-sought-after world of wedded bliss had brought what was missing in Vicki’s own life into stark relief.
So she’d taken matters into her own hands, undergoing a radical makeover. Okay, not entirely radical; it wasn’t as if she’d dyed her hair purple and gotten a nose ring or anything.
But for quiet, reserved Vicki Ahlfors, a chin-length pixie haircut and a closet of new cleavage-revealing blouses and dresses were pretty darn drastic. By the slew of new male clients Petals had garnered over the past week, the results of her transformation could not be denied.
She was Wintersage’s hot new item.
“Whatever,” Vicki said with a snort.
She had definitely caught the eye of several men around town, but instead of being flattered, Vicki found herself just a tad pissed off. She’d lived here her entire life. Why in the heck had it taken a makeover for all of them to finally notice her?
Despite the umbrage she’d taken over her admirers’ obvious shallowness, Vicki wasn’t entirely blind to the romantic opportunities that her newfound popularity had created.
There was just one problem: not a single one of the men who had come calling in the past week held an ounce of appeal. She found their overaggressiveness off-putting, and for the few who’d strolled into her flower shop as if they were God’s gift to the female population, Vicki had taken great pleasure in knocking the wind out of their overinflated egos.
Talk about egos! What about her own? After all her bellyaching over being single, she now had the nerve to play hard to get.
“Damn right,” Vicki said.
Not only did she refuse to settle for the first guy who walked into her flower shop and offered to buy her a dozen roses, but she planned to make sure that any man she dated was worthy of her precious free time. Life was much too short to waste it on a relationship that was going nowhere. She wanted to find what Sandra and Janelle had both found.
So why are you still dragging your feet?
