Kissing Under the Mistletoe Read Free Page A

head and brushed a kiss across her forehead.
    Holly was old enough to dress herself, and normally, when there was a guest her daughter wanted desperately to impress, she insisted. Tonight, though, she let Regan brush her hair and teeth, not even expelling a single huff or puff when Regan pulled out the long-sleeved nightgown.
    One look at the red envelope with glittery candy-cane stickers resting under Holly’s pillow and Regan didn’t have to question the stellar behavior. Taking in her daughter’s smile and the way she’d organized her toys in the bin, her heart melted.
    Holly was adjusting like a champ. She’d made it through the first week of new house, new school, new life. And she seemed to be doing all right. More than all right—she was happy. Which made Regan happy, run-in with Gabe DeLuca notwithstanding.
    This move was just what Regan had hoped it would be. A fresh start for them both. And tonight represented an end to six years of professional hell. She was about to attend her new company’s holiday party and, come Monday, Regan would awe them with her ideas for their new wine.
    She smoothed her fingers through her hair, arranging it into a makeshift upsweep, a few curls left free to add a touch of softness to the overall look. “Hair up or down?”
    Her mini fashion consultant poked her tongue out the side of her mouth, deep in thought. After much consideration, she exclaimed, “Princesses look better when they wear it down. It makes the tiara stand out more, I think.”
    “Hair down it is. Now hop up in bed. It’s lights-out time.” Regan pulled the blankets taut, tucking them snugly around Holly’s petite frame. She brushed another kiss across her daughter’s forehead, one across each eyelid, and a final one across her button nose.
    She clicked off the bedside lamp. Holly looked around the room, her eyes wide with wonder at the twinkle lights that went around the ceiling. They might not be anywhere near unpacked, but her daughter had Christmas lights in her room. “This is the best house ever.”
    Their house, a perk of her new job, was a modest two-bedroom casita off the Silverado Trail. It had a bright kitchen, a gnat-sized bathtub, and stucco walls that were covered in fuchsia and scarlet bougainvillea. It also had a leaky bathroom faucet, avocado tile, and a tiny patio that passed for a yard. But who needed grass when your house was set in the middle of thirty-nine acres of Syrah vines?
    And for Holly, who had spent a lifetime living in one-bedroom apartments, this place was like Disneyland. It was also the kind of house that they could call home. The kind of place Regan had dreamed of raising Holly in.
    “So tell me about school.” Regan sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to displace the red envelope, which had “Santa” scrawled across it in green crayon.
    “I already told you.” Holly’s balled fists rubbed at her eyes and she snuggled deeper into the sheets.
    “Then tell me again,” Regan said, knowing Holly was bursting with excitement to repeat her week.
    “I made a new friend, Lauren, who sings just like Beyoncé and she loves kitties almost as much as I do. And she said she would come to my birthday party since she’s not going away for Christmas.”
    Regan smiled. Holly was truly her Christmas miracle. Born five weeks too early on Christmas Eve, she had come out a fighter. Just like her mama. Holly had always loved her Christmas birthday; she said it was special, because how many kids got a birthday present from Santa? But the last few years, Regan had come to understand that birthday parties around the holidays were hard to plan. People were out of town or busy decorating trees and making memories with their own families. Not to mention that living in a cramped apartment had made it all the harder to host any sort of gathering. This year, though, they could have a party right here, in their new home. With her new friend Lauren.
    “My teacher, Mrs. Collette, is really