Holiday Kisses: Paradise Hills, Montana Sweet Romance

By Merri Maywether

Iris Sinclair has a secret. Every year on the day after Thanksgiving she becomes the Holiday Kisses Angel. She leaves little anonymous gifts to warm hearts during the chilly season.

However, This year, her tradition takes an unexpected turn when her best friend, Jordan, starts seeing her in a new, romantic light.

As their friendship blossoms into something deeper, a challenge surfaces.

Someone is trying to find the identity of the Holiday Kisses Angel, and they have enlisted Jordan's help.

The Paradise Hills promise of a magical happily ever after is tested when the best friends are forced to choose between their blossoming love or the secret.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Merri Maywether
• Release date: Nov 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393387657

Merri Maywether

Twenty years ago, Merri Maywether went on a date with a very sweet man from Montana. Three weeks later they were engaged and they have lived happily ever after. This is Merri taking over the biography section...When I write my romance novels, the characters are the people that I see on a day to day basis. Up here in what I like to call the far, far north, people work hard, live fiercely, and love knowing that they have a community of people behind them. We support each other through the hardships and celebrate the victories. The best part...similar to the characters in my stories, at the end of a long day or a rough week we have stories to share for the years to come.

Book preview

Holiday Kisses

HOLIDAY KISSES

MERRI MAYWETHER

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

HOLIDAY KISSES Copyright © 2020 Merri Maywether. Cover Design by Jayelle Morgan Header image from Atmospheric Christmas Window Sill Decoration by Jag CZ. All Rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. This book or parts thereof may not be used or reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise--without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews, as provided by United States of America Copyright law.

ISBN 979-856-356-9140

To my Level Up friends. When the world seemed dark, you lit the way with kindness.

CONTENTS

Iris

Iris

Jordan

Iris

Jordan

Iris

Jordan

Iris

Jordan

Jordan

Iris

Iris

Iris

Iris

Jordan

Iris

Jordan

Iris

Jordan

Jordan

Iris

A Note from the Author

What’s Next?

Also by Merri Maywether

To my Level Up friends. When the world seemed dark, you lit the way with kindness.

IRIS

Iris Sinclair didn’t want to be associated with what was about to happen in the general seating area of the Café on Main Street. So she hid in the bathroom under the ruse of refreshing her lipstick. She had been in there for five minutes before deciding it would be safe to return. Then the door slid open.

Shannon Shepard froze when she saw Iris leaning against the bathroom sink. Her expression stiffened like the sheen on her long auburn hair. Everything about Shannon was always perfect. Her smile was symmetrical, her lipstick never smeared, and even her voice sounded pitch-perfect.

Shannon’s perfection was the bane of Iris’s existence. Iris pretended to straighten her sweater and smooth down her blouse beneath it. She threw a quick, courteous smile in Shannon’s direction and pivoted to walk around her. The only thing worse than being in the general seating area was being in the bathroom with Shannon. Iris didn’t like Shannon. For some odd reason, it didn’t seem to matter to Shannon.

Fancy meeting you in here. Shannon eyed Iris’s sweater. Did Rose make your sweater? Her voice oozed with interest that Iris knew was fake. On top of looking good, Shannon always said the right things.

Iris glanced down to see what it was that would appeal to Shannon. The only thing she could see that made her sweater different from the cardigan sweaters women bought from the department stores was the singular flower appliqué that was a part of the lowest buttonhole. Iris, like her mother and grandmother, was named after a flower. In recognition of the family idiosyncrasy, Rose Sinclair decorated the clothes she made for her granddaughter with flowers.

Yes, she gave it to me for my birthday.

Shannon said, Nice. The warmth behind the compliment never made it to her eyes.

It isn’t as nice as yours, of course. Iris chose pride in her grandmother’s craft over getting a dig in at Shannon. But it was made with love, and it keeps me warm. She sidestepped toward the door to escape Shannon’s draw into a conversation that would have Iris washing the bitter taste out of her mouth for hours.

Iris and Shannon had a lifelong love to hate each other relationship. It started somewhere around fifth grade. Now that she was older and wiser, Iris attributed it to her being the first in their class to purchase a bra. Shannon came to school the next day with a bra of her own. It had a pink bow, and the straps could be adjusted to accommodate her racerback t-shirts. From there, their rivalry graduated to writing contests. The winner of the American Legion Americanism essay contest alternated from one year to the next; otherwise, the results were always the same. Shannon and Iris dominated first and second place. The only thing the two refused to compete for was their mutual best friend, Jordan Miller. The one time it happened, all three of them were hurt.

Iris shuffled out the door with the parting words, I’ll see you around. The last thing Iris saw before the polished dark wood door closed between them was Shannon looking down at what she wore. Fleeing the uncomfortable feeling that always accompanied a conversation with Shannon, Iris beelined it through the saloon-style doors that separated the bathroom from the general seating area.

The doors closed and swung, almost giving Iris a whack on her backside. She exhaled relief at her getaway and focused on her destination–the corner booth where Jordan sat. The combination of his shaggy hair with the designer v-neck sweater he wore gave him the air of a musician, not the phone company manager. He was talking to the lady at the table across from where Jordan and Iris had eaten. If the glow on her face was any indication, she appreciated the attention Jordan was giving her. Then again, women from elementary school to the senior center loved receiving attention from Jordan. He was that handsome. From across the room, Iris could tell he was excited about something.

She had barely slid into the seat across from Jordan when he blurted, You just missed it.

And it is? Iris took a sip of her water.

While you were in the bathroom, the Holiday Kisses Angel hit. He eyed her as though he were assessing her every move to form a conclusion.

It was a game Iris was ready to play. I thought angels were kindly spirits who delivered messages. Iris pursed her lips to hide her reaction.

Don’t be salty because you missed it. Jordan pointed at a card on the table.

Iris clenched her back teeth to reign in her reaction. Jordan’s response was exactly what she wanted. She had pulled it off. Jordan had no idea she was well aware of what transpired when she was in the bathroom.

Jordan tipped his head toward the table to direct Iris’s attention. Amanda and I were catching up. You know she just returned from deployment.

Amanda was an attractive woman. Her pulled-back hair and slim jawline showed sophistication and strength. In a word—she was stunning. If given the choice on her appearance, Iris would have chosen something similar to Amanda, not the quirky girl next door vibe she’d had since she could walk.

I was excited to come home. Amanda picked up the card and looked at both sides. This just makes it that much more special.

Iris couldn’t imagine how hard it was to transition from being in another country to returning to Paradise Hills. Paradise Hills was a relaxed, close-knit community. It seemed everyone had a secret expertise that hid below the surface of their pleasant personalities. Then a crisis struck, and the woman in the floral shop would reveal that she secretly had accumulated three degrees, one of which pertained to the problem at hand. She loosened her jaw to present a friendlier demeanor. Welcome home. Thank you for your service.

Thank you, Amanda replied. She waved the Holiday Kisses card in the air for everyone to see. To whoever was kind enough to buy my lunch, thank you. I appreciate it.

Can I see the card? Iris tilted her head to capture a better perspective of what the card looked like.

Sure. Amanda passed it to her. The card, bordered with an alternating pattern of angels, hearts, and Christmas trees, read, Holiday kisses and Christmas wishes bring gifts that show how special you are.

Iris flipped the card over. Things like this are why I love our community. People watch out for each other.

You need someone to watch out for you, Jordan chided. Or is it the other way around?

Again, he was digging. This is where Iris’s personality worked to her advantage. On various occasions, Jordan accused her of missing the mark, not seeing what was in front of her. She pretended the innuendo flew over her head. On that note, what are you wearing to the dance?

I am picking up my suit from the cleaners.

You didn’t answer my question.

I said it was a suit.

If awards were given for understanding Jordan, Iris would have earned a Ph.D. Her eye twitched, and she curled her lip ever so slightly. You speak in vagaries.

That was how Jordan got away with mischief. He said enough to answer the question, but not enough to get roped into commitment.

Jordan set his elbows on the table and leaned forward. He put on his cat that was about to catch the canary grin. Let’s put it this way. I will have the attention of every available woman in the room.

Wow! Iris popped a french fry into her mouth. There is so much room for interpretation. You could go dressed as Santa Claus, James Bond, or a clown.

He flicked his pointer finger at Iris. Only you would guess three of the suits I never thought to try.

Iris couldn’t help smiling. Then again, everything about Jordan made her happy.

On his way to the dry cleaner, in front of the town tree, Jordan overheard the story all parents tell their children when they’re old enough to understand. Roughly eighty years ago, a sapling pine tree appeared in the middle of the park. Nobody saw the planting, nor would anyone admit to placing the tree in front of the future town hall building. Everyone agreed the tree was extraordinary, and so it remained in place. 

 The mother clutching her child’s hand pointed toward the bench with her