Brooke Bailey might be thirty-one years old but she still believes in Santa Claus. And since she won’t be going home for her favorite holiday this year, she’s determined to include the residents of her small apartment house in her celebration—even those who aren’t fans of the jolly red-suited guy or reindeer games.
For Dr. Duncan Cox, Christmas is nothing but a commercial disaster filled with disappointment and bad decisions; he sees both in Mercy Hospital’s ER more than ever as the big day draws near. On top of that, this year he finds himself tasked with secretly filling Brooke’s stocking with twelve gifts to help out a friend.
Can Dr. Grinch’s gifts give Miss Merry Christmas the very thing her celebration is missing? And can seeing Brooke’s joy at receiving the anonymous gifts thaw Duncan’s cold heart?
“This book is going on my annual Must-Read- Again-Favorite-Christmas-Books-List. The characters are Delightful and the Christmas Spirit is Infectiousl!!! — SIG, Amazon reviewer, 5 stars
“I fully expected this to be a sweet, simple read about a grinch and his Christmas obsessed neighbor, and it was, but it also had me majorly swooning at parts and my heart was full when I finished. ” — Jaime C., Amazon reviewer, 5 stars
She opened her eyes, looked into his, watched his pupils react as his hands left her hair to skim lightly down her neck. His palms grazed her shoulders, his thumbs pressed into her collarbone and her pulse jumped.
He felt it. She knew that by his eyes, by the flare of his nostrils, by the breath that fanned warm against her skin before his lips touched her cheekbone, traveled to her ear, worked lower. A wisp of air hissed from between her teeth.
He moved his hands down her arms, curled his fingers easily around her biceps, nuzzled his way from her ear to her shoulder. “I like the smell of your neck.”
She raised her chin to give him better access, wanting to say something in return, but she couldn’t find the words, couldn’t voice the compliment she so wanted to return.
He smelled the way she loved a man to smell. His hair clean, sifting through her fingers as she held his head close. His face lightly spiced, nicely rough as his end of the day beard grazed her jawline.
His hands were warm where they held her arms, his thighs hard against her hips. But it was the center of his body searing the center of hers that was her focus.
She could barely breathe.
He seemed to sense her dwindling control, lifted his head. Her neck cooled in his absence. But she found that the heat in his eyes warmed her through.
“I like the way your eyes flash,” he said. “I like to hear you laugh.”
Oh, God. Oh, God. What was happening here? Her body was betraying her, responding to this man she didn’t know at all yet sensed she had known forever. She found him attractive, yes. Admired his dedication, of course.
And the fact that she was even attempting to inject logic into this moment proved how far gone she was.
So she gave up, gave in, raised up on tip-toes to better align his arousal with hers. He hissed. She whimpered, brought her arms around his neck and let him know he was welcome.
Nothing else mattered at this moment but his body and her body and if he didn’t put his mouth on hers and kiss her soon she was going to die.
So she kissed him.