The Soldier's Secret Santa: Christmas in Alpine Valley, #2

By Kali Hart

The Soldier's Secret Santa: Christmas in Alpine Valley Book 2
A Military Man Curvy Woman Holiday Romance

This Christmas, join five best friends as a friendly dare to draw Secret Santas leads them all to find their true loves.

Heather

The last person I ever expected to see in Alpine Valley was Dex Black.
He saved me from an attacker when I was seventeen.
But my father never believed Dex wasn't the one who ripped my dress.
He pressed charges, forcing Dex to join the military, and I never saw him again.
Now he's staying in my family's hotel.
I should keep my distance.
Solider or not, my father will always see him as the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks.
But when I draw Dex's name for the town's Secret Santa event, I can't help but wonder if it's fate.
Maybe Santa will grant me a chance at true love this Christmas—with Dex.

Dex

Heather and I are from two very different worlds.
When I return to my hometown, I'm not surprised to find out that she's the marketing director for her father's hotel.
I always knew she was destined for greatness.
What I didn't expect was to still carry a torch for the curvy beauty.
Her father sent a very clear message all those years ago: stay away from his daughter.
But the harder I try to avoid Heather, the more I seem to run into her.
I moved back to Alpine Valley to prove to the town that I'm a good man.
Pursing Heather Bailey is the surest way to mess that up.
Still, I can't help but wish Santa would bring me the only gift I want this year: Heather.

Come to Alpine Valley this Christmas and follow five best friends as a dare to participate in the town's Secret Santa event leads them all to true love. These books are sweet and steamy short instalove romances with older heroes and younger curvy woman. NO cliffhangers. NO cheating. Guaranteed HEA.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jackie M. Wallick
• Release date: Nov 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223757955

Book preview

1

HEATHER

I don’t have time for this Secret Santa nonsense today. I definitely don’t have time for it this Christmas season. If only Lily hadn’t dared all of us to participate, I’d be locked away in my office, happily buried beneath the work piled high on my desk. Instead, I’m parked outside of the Alpine Valley community center on my nonexistent lunch break, answering the emails that keep flocking to my inbox.

The hospitality industry doesn’t care that it’s Christmas.

At least, not in the way that gives employees a break. Hell, my dad scheduled a board meeting Christmas Eve.

The pings set up on my phone for emails and texts are distinctly different. I’ve been hearing email after email for so long now that the text message surprises me.

Lily: Don’t forget our dare ladies ;)

I’m so going to make Lily pay for this. No clue how, but I will. I’d have much preferred to write a donation check or drop off a giant bag of toys for a charity drive. But this Secret Santa thing is too much.

Let’s get this over with, I mutter, shoving my door open.

There’s no line when I step into the party room. The same room my four best friends and I occupied last night during our annual holiday Sip & Dip. I catch a whiff of Shea’s famous spinach and artichoke dip. I’m not foolish enough to think there’s any left since I’m the one who cleaned out the dish last night. But the aroma reminds me I haven’t eaten lunch today.

Heather Bailey, how lovely to see you, the elderly woman who conned us into this last night greets. If she weren’t so damn adorable in her petite red Santa sweater and silver-rimmed glasses, I might feel a little more put out.

Not a big crowd today? I approach the table and scan the contents. A sea of glitter snowflakes is sprinkled across the red tablecloth. A steel bowl with folded papers sits off to the side of a clipboard. I reach for the bowl, but Wilma yanks it away.

It’s been a slow but steady turnout so far, she answers, that sweet as pie smile never leaving her lips. Now, these aren’t the names you see.

Are they nuclear launch codes or something? I joke.

Numbers, dear. Wilma apparently doesn’t find my sense of humor funny. This bowl is filled with numbers. You draw a number and get the corresponding bag. She points to a table behind her filled with various colored gift bags. They look like party favors.

Are those our Secret Santa survival kits?

This time, Wilma smiles at my joke. I’ll have to remember that. Draw a number, dear.

I reach into the bowl, pretending to take my time fishing for the perfect paper. Hospitality has been ingrained in me since I was little. One of the rules my dad still preaches is to always make your customer feel special. It’s obvious this event is very special to Wilma. Two.

Oh, that’s a good number.

Peering over her shoulder, I search for a bag with the number two on it. But Wilma shoves a clipboard at me before I can spot one. Can you please fill this out? It’s all confidential, but it’ll help us improve the event from year to year.