
Thereâs a legend in Twilight, Texas. If you sleep with a kismet cookie under your pillow on Christmas Eve, you will dream of your one true love.
She saw him in her dreams . . .
Itâs impossible! Naomi Luther was standing face-to-face with the man sheâd dreamed about over a year ago. Was it the magic of kismet Christmas cookies that brought him to her? Or is there an even greater force at work? All Naomi knows is she is falling, hard and fast, for the one man all good sense says she should not have.
She was his buddyâs sister . . .
Rebellious Mark Shepherd found order in the Marines but chaos on the battlefield. In a mission gone wrong, Mark is injured and one of his fellow soldiers loses his life. Haunted by guilt, he arrives in Twilight to keep a solemn promise. But when the Luthers mistake him for their handyman, heâs swept up in playing Santa to his buddyâs orphan son . . . and falling hard for Naomiâs irresistible bright spirit and sweet, sexy smile. But what will happen when she learns the truth?

(Excerpt courtesy of Lori Wilde’s Website)
December 2nd, The Teal Peacock, Twilight, Texas.
âHon, if I put another thing on top of that pile, youâre not going to be able to see where youâre going.â
Undaunted, Naomi Luther dropped her shoulders. The subtle move lowered the boxes stacked in her arms about half an inch. She was a pro. For the past five years, sheâd owned Perfect Fit, a personal-shopping business. She had this.
âLookee,â Naomi said. âIf you take that last box out of the bag, thereâs enough room to slide it right on top of the others. And Iâll be able to hold it all down with my chin.â
The older woman behind the counter, Patsy Crouch, looked skeptical. âOne false move and the whole shebang will come crashing down.â
âIâll be fine,â Naomi reassured her with a jovial grin. âGo ahead. Stock it to me.â
âYou are so funny,â Patsy laughed. âItâs amazing the way youâve bounced back afterââ
âGotta keep my spirits up for Hunter.â She polished her smile, brightening its sheen. Hoping to head Patsy off at the pass. This Christmas mustbe a happy one. Which granted, was hard to pull off when everyone in town kept recounting her familyâs sorrows.
âHow are things with Robert?â Patsy asked.
Naomi pressed her lips together. She didnât want to get into her love life. Or lack there of. âRobert and I areâŚ.â
What was her situation with her long-distance boyfriend? She wished she knew. When Robert took the job in Denver, theyâd had an understanding. Robert would get his life and career in Colorado established and then she would join him and theyâd get married. It wasnât an official engagement. Nothing formal. Heâd not asked for her hand in marriage. But sheâd planned on marrying him since she was a junior in high school. She had a hope chest, and a wedding idea book stuffed with dreams.
 But since last Christmas, everything had changed. And Naomi was no longer quite sure where she and Robert stood. She hadnât seen him in four months. They texted, but it was not daily. Theyâd both been so busy. Shocked, she realized they hadnât even talked on the phone in over a month.
âItâs complicated,â she said as much to herself as to Patsy. âAll my focus is on Hunter right now. It has to be.â
âDoes that mean heâs free to date other people?â
That pulled her up short. She hadnât really thought about it. Robert hadnât mentioned wanting to see other people. Was he seeing other people?
âHow about you?â
Naomi made a dismissive sound. âIf I had time for dating I could fly to Denver every few weeks and reconnect with Robert..â
âRobertâs not coming around to the idea of you adopting Hunter, is he?â Patsy looked at her over the rim of the reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. âThatâs the real issue.â
Patsy made a good point, but she wasnât going to discuss that. She and her parents had decided as a family that Naomi should be the one to adopt Hunter since her motherâs health was fragile and her parents were both over sixty. Robert hadnât understood, and asked why her parents were trying to âsaddleâ her with her dead brotherâs baby.
Theyâd had a huge fight over it. He didnât get that adopting Hunter had been heridea, not her folks. In fact, theyâd tried to dissuade her, telling her they didnât want her to give up her life to raise her brotherâs child. But Hunter was everything to her.
Her relationship with Robert had not been the same since, even though heâd apologized, and theyâd smoothed things over.
On the surface, anyway.
âIâm sure everything will work out the way itâs supposed to.â Patsy took the box out of the shopping bag sheâd just put it in.
âHopefully..â Naomi felt unsettled by Patsyâs questions because she didnât know the answers, and she hated not being in control.
âHowâs your mother?â Patsyâs voice lowered, knitting a sympathetic tone.
Naomi flinched at the pity, but kept the smile pasted on her face. Nothing was gonna get her down. The family had been steeped in sorrow long enough. Being happy didnât mean they still didnât grieve their losses. But if sheâd learned anything, it was that life was short and you had to make the most of it.
And hey, in high school, she hadnât been a cheerleader for nothing. Rah, Rah Twilight Titans.
âMomâs good.â
âI know this is a rough time of year for your family. The holidaysââ
âWeâre fine.â Her smile stiffened, but she kept her voice loose. A flag flapping in the breeze. Oh, say can you see, life is good, good, good. âWeâre doing great. Honest.â
âYouâve all suffered a huge loss.â Patsy added the box to the leaning Tower of Pisa in Naomiâs arms. âItâs okay to grieve. Iââ
âCould you open the door for me, please? Thank you.â Naomi locked her elbows to help brace the load. Mashed her chin against the top package. Squelched the sad feelings rising up inside her.
None of that, Missy.
âHow far to your van?â Patsy asked.
âItâs in the shop. Transmission overhaul. Itâll be out of commission all week.â But she wasnât letting the inconvenience get her down.
âSo how are you getting all this home?â
âJanaâs swinging around to pick me up at the curb.â
âYou sure you donât need help getting the packages into Janaâs Jeep?â Patsy folded the empty bag emblazoned with a teal peacock and stuck it back inside the drawer.
âJuggling packages is all part of the Christmas fun, right?â
Patsy hustled across the old wooden floor to open the door, moving fast for a woman in her late sixties. âDo mind your step, hon, and watch out for the workmen setting up Dickens.â
During the first weekend in December, tourists flocked to Twilight. Looking for fun at the annual Dickens on the Square festival. Normally, Naomi loved this time of year. But after last yearâs tragediesâŚ
Stop. No unwanted thoughts. Come hell or high water, this was going to be the best Christmas ever. No excuses.
With the packages blocking her view, Naomi inched down the stairs of the Teal Peacock. Workmen were stringing electrical cords and wiring. Two crewmembers carried neon orange sawhorses. They were using them to block off the cross streets.
Dang it. Now, Jana wouldnât be able to drive through that way and pick her up. Sheâd have to wait on the curb with her unwieldy load while Jana circled around to the back of the building.
No worries, no worries. Smile. Life is good. Yes, her arms were screaming at her to put down the packages, but she could ignore the burn for a little longer.
Hurry, Jana, hurry.
It was okay. Achy arms werenât going to kill her, and it wasnât as if she didnât have a loving community to help. Things were so much better than they were a year ago. She counted her blessings. She was healthy. Her business was turning a profit. She had parents who loved her. She lived in the best small town in Texas.
And she had the sweetest little boy who was about to become her son. Who could ask for anything more?
âThank you,â she murmured skyward. âThank you, thank you, thank you.â
Janaâs black Jeep Grand Cherokee pulled up to the curb. Whew! Nick of time. Relieved, she headed toward the back of the Jeep.
âHere, here,â said one of the workmen. âLet me help.â The man stretched out long, reached for the handle, and flung the door open.
âThank you.â Naomi breathed, offered him a harried smile. Nice man. Helpful. She dumped the packages in the backseat, and slammed the door. Heard her cell phone ding from the bottom of her purse.
She wanted to ignore it, but with Hunter in preschool, she didnât dare. Digging in her purse for the phone, she hopped into the passenger seat. Without looking around, she clicked on her seatbelt.
The workman shut the door behind her. She nodded at him, waved.
âHello,â she said into the phone, but the caller hung up. She pulled the phone from her ear to see whoâd called.
Jana.
Huh? Why was Jana calling her when she was sitting right here in the car with her? She turned to her best friend.
But it was not Jana sitting in the driverâs seat.
Rather, it was a man. A tall man. A handsome man. A complete stranger. AndâŚ
Sweet
Holy
Mother
of
baby
JesusâŚ
He bore an uncanny resemblance to the dark-haired man sheâd dreamed of last Christmas Eve, when sheâd slept with a kismet cookie under her pillow. Not that she believed in the legend.
And yet, here he was.
Believe me now?Taunted the legend.
âEeep!â Naomi cried, scrambling for the door handle to jump out.
But the seatbelt yanked her backward, Tightening down on her chest. Which he must have noticed. Because he was staring at her breasts with an amused expression on his gorgeous mug.
Feeling like a ginormous idiot for getting into the wrong vehicle, she blurted, âWho are you?â
âBetter question,â he said in a voice as deep and dark as the Brazos River at midnight. âWho are you?â
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Meet the Author
Lori Wilde is the New York Times, USA Today and Publishersâ Weekly bestselling author of 85 works of romantic fiction. Sheâs a three time Romance Writersâ of America RITA finalist and has four times been nominated for Romantic Times Readersâ Choice Award. She has won numerous other awards as well. Her books have been translated into 26 languages, with more than four million copies of her books sold worldwide. Her breakout novel, The First Love Cookie Club, has been optioned for a TV movie.
Lori is a registered nurse with a BSN from Texas Christian University. She holds a certificate in forensics, and is also a certified yoga instructor.
A fifth generation Texan, Lori lives with her husband, Bill, in the Cutting Horse Capital of the World; where they run Epiphany Orchards, a writing/creativity retreat for the care and enrichment of the artistic soul.
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