Heartbroken ex-professor Natasha Laurens returns to her charming hometown, Bethany Hills, and throws herself into opening a new upscale store, vowing to remain single. But her resolve falters when a chance encounter brings her face-to-face with town council president, Thomas Barber, the man who stole her heart with a Christmas Eve kiss years ago. Sparks fly between them, yet Thomas, with his tough exterior and soft spot for his struggling town, clashes with Natasha over her support for a controversial local issue. As their disagreements intensify, so does their undeniable connection. When news of a scandal reveals Natashaâs painful past, the tragedy threatens to shatter her budding relationship with Thomas. Will Natasha fight for the love she hadnât planned? Can Thomas look beyond the rumors and embrace the love that echoes from Christmas past? A Christmas Kiss is a heartwarming, faith-friendly romance perfect for readers seeking clean stories.
Heartbroken ex-professor Natasha Laurens returns to her charming hometown, Bethany Hills, and throws herself into opening a new upscale store, vowing to remain single. But her resolve falters when a chance encounter brings her face-to-face with town council president, Thomas Barber, the man who stole her heart with a Christmas Eve kiss years ago. Sparks fly between them, yet Thomas, with his tough exterior and soft spot for his struggling town, clashes with Natasha over her support for a controversial local issue. As their disagreements intensify, so does their undeniable connection. When news of a scandal reveals Natashaâs painful past, the tragedy threatens to shatter her budding relationship with Thomas. Will Natasha fight for the love she hadnât planned? Can Thomas look beyond the rumors and embrace the love that echoes from Christmas past? A Christmas Kiss is a heartwarming, faith-friendly romance perfect for readers seeking clean stories.
Natasha Laurens loved a good ghost story. At least once a month she would curl up in bed to speed read the dog-eared copy of Hamlet she had kept from her days at Bethany Hills Senior High. And back in January, sheâd enjoyed lecturing on Henry Jamesâs The Turn of the Screw. She even owned an autographed version of Toni Morrisonâs Beloved, and when she finished shelving all her favorite paperbacks, she would put a tiny spotlight on it. In the realm of novels and novellas, the now-you-see-them-now-you-donât characters enhanced tension, conflict, and mystery.
But books were books. Life was life.
In the real world, a grown man shattering his girlfriendâs heart, then acting like an apparition, wasnât particularly entertaining. It was cruel and unusual punishment. The type of torment that made Natasha pack up and drive off from that ghost situation. Far away. From Atlanta, Georgia to Bethany Hills, Pennsylvania. From teaching literature to college students to settling with her grandmother in a home full of childhood memories. Academic life to small-town living. She thirsted for a fresh beginning, with hometown nostalgia thrown as a soft quilt over her shoulders. Even better, Christmas would arrive in a month and a half. Snow covered fir trees. Sugar cookies and hot apple cider. Gift wrapping with family.
Holiday cheer would definitely send those poltergeists of the past packing.
Inside Nannyâs third-floor bedroom, she turned many screws. Five hours of manual labor had passed like a flash, and proof of her determination lay before her eyes. The new queen-sized wooden frame stood even on all four legs and supported the box spring and mattress she had hoisted onto it. Sheâd avoided scratching the bedside table her sister Stephanie had given her, even after she dropped a hammer on it. The old dresser Natasha confiscated from downstairs resembled a professional antique after she cleaned it up and installed brushed nickel drawer hardwareâquite a feat for someone previously lacking carpentry talent.
âYes! I believe Iâve created one amazing room.â She ambled backward, stopping inside the doorframe.
Grasping her Nikon DSLR, she took pictures from different angles. Four years ago, photography had been a weekend hobby. A diversion she could indulge in with free time, long walks, and her cell phone camera. Now it was the one artistic passion sheâd held tightly to after moving up north.
She snapped shots of the bronze-framed wall artwork and the decorative lighting. Tomorrow, she would add plush curtains to match the gold splatter abstract floor rug. Wrought iron curtain rods would look great here. She still had to buy those and then dig through Nannyâs cluttered garage to find a long ladder so she could install them. Lovely window dressings would bring the room together, making it her private sanctuary. After that, sheâd carry in lavender sachets and scatter them throughout the drawers and closet. The scent should mask the lingering smell of aged wood and furniture polish.
A little old mixed with a bit of new.
She let the camera rest in her hands. So much serenity inside this room where she and her sisters used to play Clue, Monopoly, and Checkers. She glanced beyond the windowsill. Gold, red, and orange leaves provided natural decoration in the wooded acres behind Nannyâs house. Breathtaking. Just standing in here comforted Natasha. She felt warm. Whole.
So different from the weeks of late summer when her ex-man ditched her and left her feeling clumsy and clueless and clownish. Like heâd backed her inside an abandoned coal mine, watched her free fall into a diesel-smelling midnight pit, then shrugged as though it were her fault sheâd plummeted.
She clutched the Nikon. A lump in her throat irritated her, and she swallowed to quell the rising tide of distress. She closed her eyes. Inhaled. Exhaled.
Clumsy. Clueless. Clownish.
âStop with the alliteration,â she opened moist eyes. Hissed to the air. âYouâre not a literature teacher anymore.â
âNatasha!â Footsteps made the floors creak in the third-floor hallway. âWhere are you? I canât find you behind all this dust.â
Natasha wiped the wetness away from her eyelids and slid the camera onto the bookshelf. She stepped into the hall and waved.
Stephanie huffed and puffed with her infant son strapped inside a baby carrier against her middle. She sneezed, then coughed three times, frustration coloring her usually friendly face.
Natasha moved further into the room. âSteph, itâs not that dusty up here. Stop acting like youâre hacking up a lung. Look around.â
Stephanieâs body appeared inside the doorframe. She jerked her thumb toward the room at the top of the staircase. âBut your desk and file cabinets are all in there. Love that glass worktable you have beneath the window. Whereâd you get that?â
âOnline. Iâm keeping my living area and workspace separate. When I lie down at night, Iâll actually rest.â
âNanny let you use the entire floor?â
âOf course.â
âHire a plumber for that bathroom. No one has used it in years. Donât flush that toilet without a professionalâs opinion. All your business will be on the back lawn after the next good rain.â
Natasha reached for her nephew, her fingers angled toward his chubby brown cheek. âNanny already warned me. Haskinâs Plumbing is coming through here later this week. Let me hold Cody.â
Stephanie peered at her babyâs half-closed eyelids and halted Natashaâs hand. âYouâre dusty and heâs settling into sleep.â She dropped her voice to a whisper. âIf he wakes up now, Iâll have to nurse him until he drifts back into dreamland.â
âYou didnât want to leave him with Nanny?â
âShe was on her way out the door when I drove up. Her fishing cap is on, so you know where sheâs headed on her latest expedition.â Stephanie cradled her sonâs body and peered around the renovated bedroom. âHey now!â
Natasha snatched the camera once more to capture shots of her sister admiring the space. âWhat do you think? You like what I did?â
Stephanie paced the golden floorboards, nodding and smiling. âThis has a designerâs touch. Since when did you become an HGTV disciple? I need to have you over at Casa de Scott so you can work your magic for Forrest and me.â
Natasha waved away her sisterâs comments. âYou donât require me. You both are doing just fine.â
Stephanie and Forrest. Natasha envied them. They were the perfect example of love at first sight. Forrest asked Stephanie to marry him during their last year of college. She accepted his proposal. In the years before she gave birth to Cody, she worked as a middle school math teacher. He became principal of Bethany Hills Senior High. Together, they built their house from the ground up and spent their summers driving as far as their car would take them. Their relationship mirrored contentment and joy. All tenderness. No drama.
Magnificent. For them.
Natasha didnât have the strength to search for that type of union. If her successful relocation and room renovation achievements gave any sign, it showed sheâd better pour her energy and passion into new ventures. Not new people. Besides, her wounded spirit couldnât take the strain. If she fell for anyone, he would have to be a man with enough honesty and integrity that heâd rather gouge his Adamâs apple out with a spoon than ghost her. Did God even make men like that anymore? She doubted it. Her sister probably married the last one.
Stephanie peered at the lantern on the bedside table. âIâll always tell you the truth. This room is eclectic and classy. When you move out of here, you can rent this space on a vacation rental site if Nanny agrees.â She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out her phone. âCan I send pictures to Mom and Dad?â
Natasha ducked her head. âLet me work on it a little longer. I need to add curtains. Mom might love the room, but Dadâs more interested in seeing my business plans and financial strategy.â
âThatâs how Dad isâalways concerned about practicality.â
âDid I tell you he didnât even bother to speak to me last Sunday when I called?â Natasha shifted her gaze to Stephanieâs. âMom tried to pass him the phone, but he just grunted. Oh, Iâm sorry. I take that back. He did more than grunt. I heard him in the background. He said, âWe sent her to the college of her dreams and now she wants to establish a general store? Hmph. Sheâll be living with Mama for the rest of her life.ââ
She stopped talking. Gripped feelings of frustration, like holding her breath underwater. Yes, she planned to open a local general store, but it wouldnât be any run-of-the-mill establishment. It would include a web cafe and fresh baked goods. Gift baskets with handmade items. An upscale, attractive floor layout and design. A flagship store. Something unforgettable for Bethany Hillsâ visitors.
Her father would see. Everyone would.
Stephanie said, âDonât focus on that. Dad will always be Dad, and he loves you in his own way.â
âMy relationship with Dr. Eric. What we found out and how it ended? I brought shame on my family and embarrassed Dad. He just wonât come out and say it.â
âSweetie, you made a mistake, but you admitted that, and youâre changing. Itâs in the past.â
Natasha grimaced. âNot that long ago.â
âLook, I see the good in you, and I love that youâre taking action.â Stephanie stepped over to her sister. She wrapped one protective arm around herâthe other around the baby, snoozing against her middle. âMy husband has been telling everyone whoâll listen about his sister-in-love who has phenomenal ideas for that abandoned discount store. Nanny let you take her empty third floor for living space. Youâre joining the Bethany Hills business association and putting your leadership skills to good use. Keep on executing. One foot in front of the other.â
âSteph?â
âYes, sweetie?â
âAre you still listening to motivational speeches every morning?â
Stephanie slid her arm away and scrunched her face. âEnjoy making fun of me, thatâs all right. All those positive speakers helped me through some rough moments. Between those talks and the prayers from the Bethany Hills Baptist prayer team, I stayed sane laying on my back day after day.â
It had frightened the Laurens family when doctors placed Stephanie on bed rest for the second half of her pregnancy with Cody. With faith and a positive mindset, sheâd made it through those challenging weeks and delivered a healthy, dimpled-face baby boy.
Natasha grinned. âSis, you can keep listening to those talks. Itâs fine.â
âOh, I know it is. It worked for me.â Stephanie glanced at her phone screen, then shoved the device into her pocket and meandered toward the doorway. âItâs later than I thought. Youâre eating dinner with us tonight and going to the meeting afterward, right? I need to let you shower and change. Cody and I will be down in the living room. Donât take too long.â
Natasha shut the lights off and trailed her sister into the hallway. âWhat meeting? We have a meeting tonight?â
âThe Bethany Hills Borough council meeting. Tell you more about it after you clean up.â
A borough council meeting? Stephanie wants to drag Cody to something that boring? Natasha shrugged away her thoughts and headed to the second-floor guest room. Fifteen minutes was all she needed to shower, slide on fresh jeans and a nice blouse. A little light make-up. Fluffed up her hair. Grabbed her boots, purse, and jacket, and jogged down to the living room.
âAll done,â she called out, and swung down the staircase, dropping to the bottom step to put her boots on. âNow tell me about this meeting and why we need to go.â
Stephanie stood, hands resting on Codyâs carrier. âSince youâre joining the business association, I figure you should attend. Otherwise, you wonât get to share your opinion on the zoning laws and ordinances.â
Natasha collected her purse and searched for her house keys. âLocal government talks. So exciting. You always go?â
âNow I do. They bring up issues that will affect the district and areas surrounding the school buildings. Forrest wants to be front and center for all that.â
Natasha nodded. Her brother-in-law took his job as the Bethany Hills Senior High principal seriously. He had a genuine concern about the youth in the region. So much that heâd turned down a position as the headmaster of a private Christian school in the city to stay here.
âReady to go?â Stephanie asked.
Keys. Keys. Keys. Natasha needed to become more organized if she planned to be a brilliant businesswoman. Sheâd start by installing a wall hook for her keys.
She spied them on the coffee table and snatched them. âIâm ready,â she announced, jiggling them.
Cody wiggled against his motherâs torso, opened his tiny brown eyes, and cooed.
Natashaâs heart melted. She reached for the baby. âCan I hold him now?â
âSure, heâs getting heavier by the day, though.â
Natasha reached into the carrier and lifted her nephew. âOh, heâs not so bad.â She sniffed his scalp, careful to cradle him tight. âAnd he smells like Baby Magic. Will tonightâs meeting be long? I want a good start tomorrow at the bank.â
âItâll be about ninety minutes. For the last two months, the new council president and the mayor kept fussing about land zoning ordinances. Last time they got so heated, I thought the sheriff would arrest them both.â
âWhat?â
âYeah. Itâs crazy. The fights keep the meeting interesting. I might bring popcorn tonight.â
Natasha let her sister open the front door. They stepped onto the porch, and she handed her nephew back so she could lock up.
âI canât see Mayor Grayson fighting with anybody.â Natasha shut the door and turned the silver key. âWhoâs the council president?â
âThomas Fields Barber.â Stephanie deposited her son into Natashaâs waiting arms. She dug out her minivan keys and pressed the fob to open the doors. âHeâs no joke. Weâve never had a council president like him. Heâs campaigning to be the next mayor. He just hasnât declared that yet.â
Natasha cuddled her nephew, questions running through her brain while she moved toward the backseat to strap in Cody.
âWho do we know named Fields? Did he move from the city?â She gently tugged the babyâs fingers away from her dangling silver hoops.
Stephanie climbed into the driverâs seat. âYou know who Iâm talking about. Pastorâs son. Thomas Barber.â
âThomas?â
âTommy Barber! You went to school with him.â
Natasha draped a balloon-printed baby blanket over Codyâs legs. âTommy? Not the Tommy Barber?â
âThe same one. He has a business flipping houses and restoring properties in Bethany Hills and most of the suburbs close to Pittsburgh. He has real vision.â
âAs Thomas Fields Barber?â Natasha settled into the back seat, and the side door glided shut beside her. âHe was Tommy when he ate bologna sandwiches with me at Bethany Hills Elementary. Whatâs with the Fields name? That threw me off. Are he and his wife blending their names? The Fields-Barbers?â
âOh, heâs not married. Still single.â
âReally? So how is he a Fields now?â
âI have no idea. You should ask him.â Stephanie guided the minivan out of the driveway and down the tree-lined street. âHe enlisted in the Navy as the Tommy we all knew. After he came back to Bethany Hills, heâd become a SEAL and took the borough by storm as Thomas Fields Barber. He owns Barber Building Innovations. His company remodeled mom and dadâs old house before they moved to the city. Havenât you paid any attention to the hometown news I sent you?â
âNot enough.â
âApparently.â
Natasha shook her head in disbelief. Tommy Barber? The boy whoâd pushed her in the mud during fifth grade recess. The same guy whoâd given her the sweetest kiss sheâd ever experienced. Her first genuine kiss, actually. Nannyâs walkway. Christmas Eve. Twelve years earlier.
A warm feeling spread through Natashaâs belly as she stared out the window. She had experienced some beautiful things in life, but nothing seemed to compare to that precious holiday season moment. The memory always filled her with joy. It was a pleasant remembrance Natasha would think about now and then as she pressed into entrepreneurship.
For today, all she needed was to get her business off on the right foot. After the Atlanta disaster, love could take a permanent seat on the sidelines.
âHey, Steph?â
âYes?â Stephanie drawled.
âWhatâs for dinner?â
âRibeye steak and potatoes with gravy. Green beans. Blueberry pie for dessert.â
âYum.â Natasha reached over and pinched Codyâs cheek. âThatâs good eating.â
Stephanie guided the minivan onto Bethany Hills Boulevard. âYeah, weâll eat well tonight. Weâll need our strength to endure the borough council meeting.â
Labeled a contemporary romance, the plot between Natasha, Thomas, and the rest of the town of Bethany Hills, was quite good. Natasha came back after heartbreak to open a general store and internet cafe and she runs into Thomas, an old school mate, at a community meeting.
Natasha is close to her family, so they are pretty involved in her life, and there are a few other community members that are also pivotal to the overall plot, but overall this is a story about Natasha and Thomas, which is what initially drew me to this story. I wanted to know the longing and desires between these two people. I wanted to feel their chemistry. While I love quirky secondary characters and they can add flavor and color to a book, I wanted to know the angst that really drew these two together, not how they both relived a high school kiss that happened over a decade ago and the community views on if a vote would pass.
When it came to these two as a couple, I will admit there were times that Thomas had some outdated views on dating, but for the most part I gave him the benefit of the doubt that it was just small town thinking vs. how everyone else viewed modern dating. Especially given Natashaâs dating experience back in Atlanta up to moving back home. However, I almost wanted to throw him out of a window when he discovered her past. It's one thing to begin day dreaming about someone being your wife after only a few dates, but the way he treated her after hearing gossip kind of made me sick to my stomach. He's lucky he redeemed himself, but I'm still not sure I actually like him.Â
Overall, I have to say that this book didn't exactly fit my views; like Thomas looking for a wife to basically run his house and give him children and not listening before judging to list out a few. That doesn't mean that this book doesn't fit someone else who thinks heâs the bees knees, it just didn't set my life on fire.Â
Last but not least, I need to address my beginning sentence of "labeled as contemporary romance" - you know that moment while reading when your instincts are screaming, but the plot is still engaging, so you keep reading, but eventually you reach the point of...oh no, I'm reading a clean romance.đł Soooo, when you finally finish the book and there was zero spice and lots of praying, I knew my gut feelings were right đ, I would just like this to be your fair warning in case that's important to your reading experience. When I first chose this book the label "faith-friendly" in the blurb, was missing, I see now that it has been added in (at least on Goodreads). As a reader, I appreciate that, since - obviously it was not there when I chose to read it. Again, I'm not here to yuck on someone else's yum, but my yum is not faith reading. K.L. is a decent writer, she just doesn't write the tropes I crave.