Christmas with Book Club: Book Clubbing, #2

By Heather Woodhaven

A New Challenge for Christmas

Jeanine's calendar alerts are out of control. All Jeanine wants for Christmas is some alone time and sweet romance with her husband of twenty years. At the last book club meeting of the year, the holiday romance they discuss inspires the rest of the club to start a new challenge. Before Jeanine can object, the other members plan the month, filled to brim with acts of kindness, most of which go hilariously wrong.

Unbeknownst to the book club, the men in their lives have their own secret challenge brewing...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather Woodhaven
• Release date: May 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201846329

Heather Woodhaven

Heather Woodhaven earned her pilot’s license, flew a hot air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, assisted an engineer with a medical laser in a Haitian mission, parasailed over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black diamond ski trail in the Aspens and snorkeled among sting rays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one. Heather channels her love for adventure into writing characters who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.

Book preview

1

JEANINE

The bells jingled as Jeanine Phelps pulled the elf costume from the car. She lifted the accompanying tote bag and entered the house from the garage. The kids were away at their extracurricular activities, meaning she had approximately ten minutes to decompress before diving into the evening chauffeur and volunteer duties.

Brad? Her head turned side to side as she walked down the hallway, through the kitchen, and finally up the stairs. Where are you? She’d seen his car in the garage. The frigid temperatures made it unlikely her husband would be outside, and his food truck, Tortilla Later, was parked at the race track for the off-season.

She kicked her shoes off at the threshold of the bedroom, and the two clogs flew across the room. Her toes sunk into the plush carpet, and her gaze drifted to her unmade bed...with Brad in it.

Seriously? He decided to take a nap now? The holiday season had so much on the schedule, her calendar should be sending her wellness checks on the hour:

12:00 p.m. Are you okay?

5:00 p.m. You know days weren’t designed to hold this much, right?

8:00 p.m. Want a glass of wine?

9:00 p.m. Better yet, how about a hot cocoa with a dash of adults-only eggnog in it? I’ve got a Christmas movie picked out for you…

She’d love Siri forever if it worked like that.

Jeanine dumped her tote on her side of the bed, but Brad’s sleeping form remained motionless. She walked around to his side and flung the covers back.

A horse’s bright blue, dead eyes stared back at her. Jeanine jumped, slammed into the bookshelf, and screamed. On a second look, it resembled a gigantic, stuffed animal more than an actual horse head.

Brad’s deep chuckle filled the room. He stepped from the darkened walk-in closet, arms outstretched, laughing. Oh, honey. I’m sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t think it’d work so well. He tried to pull her into his arms, but she smacked his shoulder instead.

You have to admit I got you good. His eyes drifted to the striped tights and green outfit in her fists. Maybe you were planning something of your own?

She put a hand on his chest. No. Why is there a horse’s head in my bed?

Brad held up his index finger. First off, it’s not any old horse. It’s Buster Bronco. He lifted the bronco head off the pillow and carried it to the walk-in closet. The real mascot will be at a championship game the same weekend of the parade. So, guess who they assigned to represent Boise State at the parade?

No. She groaned and sank into the mattress. "But I needed your help for the holiday parade."

Let me guess. Brad flopped next to her. Doc wants you to be an elf in the parade.

Worse. She lifted up the tote bag with the large wings sticking out of it. A tooth fairy dressed like an elf complete with a toothbrush the size of a hockey stick.

Yeah, that’s whack.

It gets better. Guess who he assigned to make the float?

Brad scrunched his forehead. That doesn’t add up. The parade is next week. He’d had to have applied for a spot over a month ago. Instead he waits until right after Thanksgiving?

Jeanine dropped the tote, and snuggled into Brad’s side. This is Doc we’re talking about. Her boss knew his way around teeth like no one’s business, but organization and empathy wasn’t his strong suit. He wants it to be the best float in the parade, but—get this—he says I’m not allowed to give candy because it would send the wrong message.

I think they banned candy from the parade a few years back. Brad flung a hand over his eyes and yawned. After a moment he lifted his fingers and looked at her.Did he tell you why he picked you?

I think it’s because of the book club challenge I did. He wants me to think of something unusual, something worthy of making the news. He doesn’t care what it is, but it’s supposed to go along with wearing that costume while I throw out toothbrushes.

He sat up on an elbow and raised his eyebrows. That’s like throwing sticks. Will there be an eye doctor float behind yours?

She tilted her chin up. I’m hoping you can help me figure it out.

Brad sat up, essentially bouncing Jeanine to her side. No, I can’t. I’d already made plans for the food truck to be part of the holiday parade, remember? That’s why I made Mexican hot cocoa last weekend for you guys to taste test.

Mmm. Chocolate. Jeanine pointed to the furry guy in the closet, still visible from her vantage point. What about Buster? I thought you agreed to be the mascot.

I was going to ask Mark to wear it.

Nope. He has work.

Marie?

She shook her head. Did the man ever check the calendar? Babysitting.

Maddie?

Jeanine sat up as well, shaking off the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm her. She cocked her head and shot him a look. "Aside from the fact that she’s eight years old, Brad?"

He shrugged.

No. The weight of the head alone would tip her over. Besides, she’ll be at a birthday party.

We’re going to have to call in reinforcements, then. He glanced at his phone. What’s tonight?

I go to Marie’s choir concert while you go to Maddie’s dance recital. They’re both already at practice. She raised her eyebrows. Any chance you want to switch?

He laughed. Nice try. Aren’t you volunteering backstage?

Jeanine curled her lip. Yes. Basically she’d been assigned fainting patrol, which meant watching the top row of kids on the back risers. She’d need to wear running shoes, according the choir teacher.

I better get going then. Brad stepped into the bathroom, checked his appearance in the mirror, and headed out the door.

Don’t forget to save me a seat, she called out after him. As long as traffic wasn’t bad, she’d be able to make it Maddie’s concert before the tap dance.

Love, he replied, his voice echoing in the stairwell. Apparently there wasn’t even enough time to finish the sentiment with a you.

Ditto, she muttered.

Love? Yes.

Her eyes drifted to the book club selection on her nightstand. But romance? She freed her chestnut hair from the ponytail holder and glanced down at her blue hygienist scrubs. Romance was just one more thing to add onto the to-do list.

On Saturday morning, Jeanine threw on her coat and crossed the street with a full mug of coffee. This would be the shortest book club meeting of the year. They could barely find a time for everyone to meet.

Anne Morrison held the door open before Jeanine even reached the porch. The smell of cinnamon rolls wafted out, and she quickened her pace. So much for eating healthier this holiday season.

She stepped into the warmth and shed her coat onto a black hook in the hallway. I didn’t know you were serving breakfast.

Anne’s face fell. I think you’re smelling my candle. It’s a cinnamon roll scent. I read that if you smell what you crave then you don’t eat as much.

Jeanine inhaled, and her stomach gurgled. Good idea, she said, trying to compensate for her disappointment.

I think Jeanine’s stomach disproved that theory. Paula Shreiner stepped into the hallway holding her own steaming tumbler.

Anne shrugged. Yeah, you’re right. I’ll blow it out.

Jeanine placed a hand over her belly. Don’t do that on my account. I just need to get more coffee in me.

Paula’s stomach growled at twice the volume. No, please let her. I knew I should’ve had some breakfast this morning, but we were out late last night.

Anne snickered. Okay, okay. I’ll stop torturing you. I wanted to wait until Kate got here, but she’s late. I really did read that about scents, though.

Jeanine and Paula exchanged a confused glance before they followed Anne into the kitchen. On top of the ceramic stove sat a pan of rolls covered in a pecan streusel and topped with icing. She gasped at the delicious sight.

I love you. The words slipped from Jeanine’s mouth before she realized she’d said it. She didn’t even mind Anne’s attempted trickery if they were going to eat some.

I made a couple batches ahead of time for Thanksgiving, but I made too much. Anne pointed to the full coffee pot. I bought some mistletoe coffee. Thought it would go well with discussing the holiday romance.

Anne had decorated her kitchen to match the season with a snowman cookie jar, Christmas tree tea towels, and deep red walls. The added smells of coffee and rolls prompted images from their book selection, The Santa Society, to come to mind. Her favorite part was when the hero took the heroine on a horse-drawn sleigh ride and kissed her as the snow fell in giant flakes all around them. Jeanine sighed.

Anne raised an eyebrow. Everything okay?

Jeanine straightened. Yeah. I—it’s nothing.

Spit it out. Paula rested one hip against the entry to the kitchen. But I’m telling you right now, if it’s another challenge—

It’s not a challenge. Jeanine held up a hand. She wouldn’t have traded their book club challenge for anything. It’d taught her how to live in the moment, grow her friendships, and experience adventure without having to go anywhere. Her career was better for it, her life fuller, her husband happier, but.... Brad and I have been married almost twenty years.

Anne stepped forward and touched Jeanine’s elbow. Are you guys okay?

Yes! We’re fine. We love each other. We’re committed. Nothing to worry about. We’ve been so wrapped up with our kids, our goals—don’t get me wrong, all good things—but I can’t remember the last time I experienced romance outside of a book.

Paula sipped her coffee. Her eyes drilled a hole into Jeanine’s skull over the rim of her mug. Are we talking romance or we talking—

Romance, Jeanine interjected. She’d learned to appreciate Paula’s bluntness at times, but some things were best left unsaid. I’m talking romance. Though if there were more of the one, there’d probably be more of the other.

Anne snorted and nodded. She picked up a knife and cut the baked dough in squares. Have you tried making the first move?

Golden rule, baby, Paula added, though her eyes remained on the cinnamon rolls. Treat him the way you’d want to be treated. Of course, he probably doesn’t want flowers. And, even if you make an effort, you probably won’t be obvious enough for him to notice. She accepted a plate from Anne and popped a giant forkful in her mouth. It’s amazing what some people can miss, she mumbled through the food.

Jeanine and Anne exchanged a glance, both smiling. Anne’s eyes crinkled with held-back laughter. How many times had Paula missed subtle social cues from the rest of the group? Yet, when it came down to important matters, everyone knew Paula would do anything for them.

Anne handed Jeanine a plate. Brad loved this kind of pastry... Jeanine blinked. Maybe they were on to something. When was the last time she’d done something special for Brad? Something besides buying him his favorite cereal or bag of chips at the grocery store? "You’re right. It’s time I made a bold,