Tic-Tac-Mistletoe (Hartbridge Christmas, #1)

by N.R. Walker

A man put his hands up, terrified and a little hysterical. “I’m too pretty to be bear poo!”

“Are you a serial killer? I really hope you’re not a serial killer, though to be honest, I’d probably just roll with it at this point.”

“Uh, I think you left your virtue at the locker room door back in high school.”

“When I was little, we’d play naughts and crosses all the time, just on a piece of paper,” he said quietly. “Then when I was about ten, Mum brought this home one day.” “Noughts and crosses,” I repeated. “I like that name.” “What do you call it?” “Tic-tac-toe.”

“Hamish, just go with it. If it lasts a week or a year or if it’s forever, don’t waste happiness. Life’s too fucking short.”

“If you don’t kiss under mistletoe, a Christmas angel dies rather horrifically. I don’t make the rules, Hamish.”

“Thank you. For running off the road out the front of my place. For saving me from a miserable Christmas by myself, and for being the best thing to come into my life in a really long time.”