Her Wish Before Christmas (Holiday Hearts) Read Free Page A

glass.
    “I had an accident with the cabinet.” Genny focused on sweeping, catching any stray shards. “And yes, he’s moved back.”
    “Really. He’s back. You’re back. And right before Christmas. What did he want?”
    “Don’t go there.” Genny jerked her head to meet Cilla’s probing stare.
    “So you do remember your fortune.” A glimmer of smug I knew it tainted her words.
    “I also remember him dumping me on Christmas Eve.” She pushed the broom at her sister. “I’m not talking about him or fortunes right now. I’ll clean up the blood in the morning.” Ignoring the sting from her cut, she shoved her feet into her boots and abandoned Cilla. No more question and answer sessions that night. Years. She’d had years to get over him.
    You haven’t .
    Not you, too . Genny ignored her grandmother’s voice in her head. Her life didn’t involve Connor. Not anymore. A mature, successful woman could handle seeing her first love again without melting into a puddle of wounded rejection. Connor wanted to act like old friends. Old pals. She could do that.
    Lying to yourself is a waste of energy.
    Shut up .
    Why did she have to find those damn charms? Huddled into her coat for the short walk home, the goose bumps that tingled her scalp and covered her arms weren’t from the cold.
    Sorry . Even in her mind, she couldn’t get away with being rude.
    Genny’d had more imaginary conversations with Nona since her death than any other time in her life. She’d never questioned the special connection they’d had since she left home. Sure, they wrote letters—a dying art the cousins wanted to keep going. But even with letters and sporadic phone calls, her grandmother always seemed to be in her thoughts. And still was.
    Genny remembered every word of those damn fortunes. Undoubtedly, so did her sister and cousins. They still believed. She’d had such confidence in that nonsense when she was younger. They all trusted the story that their nona was a gypsy and had special powers. As little girls, they pretended they would also one day grow up to be great gypsy fortune tellers.
    Don’t lose faith.
    I grew up. I don’t live on faith anymore .

 
     
     

Chapter Two
     
     
    Genny Ridgeway was back. God, she smelled good . Just as he remembered, sunshine and spring flowers even in the middle of winter.
    Still mad as hell at me. But not wearing a ring .
    Hope buried the regret he carried for the selfish choice of breaking up with her in college. She’d moved on and found a dream to pursue, as he’d known she would. As he’d wanted her to. When his parents divorced and moved away from Laurel Cove, he lost his source for keeping track of her. Assuming he’d find out she was happily married, he’d used unpacking and getting his clinic set up as an excuse to put off visiting her grandmother’s store, never expecting to run into Genny herself.
    He’d left, pursuing bigger and better things for himself, never intending to return to his hometown. As life went, he’d spent every day of the last five years working to return.
    He couldn’t help wondering how good life would be if Genny had been with him along the way. But he wouldn’t have his son, a blessing he would never wish to change.
    Connor stomped light snow off his boots before entering the updated cottage-style house he had closed on two weeks previously. The smell of burning meat alerted him to the whereabouts of the home’s occupants.
    “Hello.”
    The blare of the smoke alarm started as he stepped through the dining room and into the kitchen. Jake sat at the small kitchen table holding his hands to his ears, and Ellen, their part-time housekeeper and nanny, was running water over a smoking pan in the sink. He opened the back door as he passed to let in some fresh air.
    “Daddy!” Jake’s wrinkled frown turned into a smile only a six-year-old could give as he rushed to Connor and jumped with the trust of a child that he would be caught and hugged. Connor