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Nic Fontana’s shirtless smolder rocketed him to the top of a massive superhero franchise even though he can’t act. Reeling from a recent divorce, unhappy in Hollywood, and facing a challenging script and a new director, he needs the support of the closest thing he has to a family now more than ever. What he doesn’t need is a dangerous attraction to his harshest critic, Jessie.
When a pair of mistletoe underwear spark a sexy encounter and the start of a secret holiday fling, Nic and Jessie are forced to come to terms with their complicated past and deeply-buried feelings. But when the holidays end, they’ll have to risk it all to find out if what they have is more than just vibes.
HOLIDAY VIBES is the second book in the Over the Top Love series. This enemies-with-benefits, brother’s best friend romance features a grumpy hero and a snarky, unlikable heroine finding their Happily Ever After. It can be read as a standalone. It also contains explicit sex scenes and strong language. Content notes can be found on the author’s website.
Keep reading for a look at Chapter One of Holiday Vibes!
Holiday Vibes Chapter One
Jessie
“I’macandycaneslut and it’s my time to shine,” I whisper as I hit the end of the family group chat. There’s no mention, no suggestion, no hinthe’sgoing to be here.
From my rental car parked at the end of the long drive, my parents’ craftsman-style house is beautiful, glowing like a Thomas Kinkade painting in the silvery-blue world of moonlit snow. Vintage lights are strung along the windows. Smaller lights twinkle through the bare branches of a couple of trees. And inside a warm welcome awaits me, along with hot chocolate laced with Bailey’s, topped with whipped cream, and I want it bad.
Dominic Fontana won’t be here losing at a board game or helping my mom in the kitchen or someone would have said something in the group chat. He hasn’t been here for the last four Christmases, so why should this year be different?
Except he’s my twin brother’s best friend, and he’s recently divorced, so where else would he be, with no other family to claim him? There’s a high chance Mr. Big Sexy Movie Starisinside and I don’t want to see him again. Ever.
Cold is creeping into my rental. I’m not going to scour the last four weeks of the family group chat for clues again, though I’m tempted. No, I’m going to march inside and spend the next two weeks enjoying my favorite time of year with the people I love, because no way in hell is Nic here.
As soon as I get out of my rental car.
Which I’m totally going to do. Any second now.
Oh, god, I’m stalling hard.
This is annoying. It’s been five years since the last time I saw Nic and while I’m still a hot mess, I don’tlooklike a hot mess. Tonight, I’m armored with my impractical but sexy-as-hell boots and my favorite lipstick in “heartless red”. Battle-ready.
And honestly, apart from potential death by humiliation, a little low-intensity warfare would hardly ruin two weeks of booze and food. He’s probably not even here, and I’m freezing my ass off for nothing.
The pull of a hot drink wins. I climb out of my car, retrieve my suitcase from the back—with a grunt because I’ve overpacked it—and start up the driveway.
In the dark, with only the lights of the house, I don’t see the patch of ice.
One foot shoots forward, and the other follows. Pain blossoms across the side of my ass and for the first time in months, I’m on my back with my feet in the air, and not under the circumstances I prefer.
I scramble to my knees and scan the windows in case someone saw my fall. Mercifully, there are no witnesses.
Grabbing my suitcase, I slowly climb to my feet, wobbling, sliding each foot forward inch by inch until I can reach the other side of the ice. My ass hurts, but since no one saw me fall, I’m going to pretend this never happened. Because I’m an adult and my shit is together.
The effort it takes to lug my suitcase up the first step nearly puts me back on my ass. I’ve packed everything I need to ensure I won’t look like a swamp hag at any point over the next two weeks. I’m not repeating the mistakes I made five years ago. I’ve also crammed this beast with gifts and vibrators.
Those have nothing to do with Nic. I do graphic design and social media for a family-owned sex toy company called Sploosh! and as a perk, I get more freebies than I can use, which I happily off-load onto various family members.
Okay, I also packed half a dozen of my favorites, in case I need them. Again, nothing to do with Nic and everything to do with a sudden and unfortunate lack of men worth my time.
A couple more heaves and grunts, and I make it up to the wreath-laden door. The warm smell of apple, cinnamon, and cloves engulfs me when I push it open and I suck it into my lungs, sighing in contentment. My mother’s kitchen is the birthplace of good aromas, but something about the holidays makes everything deeper. Better.
My mother is none other than the legendary Celia Foley, an on-air institution who single-handedly launched the Home Cooking Channel with the first of her many successful cooking shows. If food is her first calling, Christmas is her second and her ability to make the magic of the season last beyond childhood is nothing short of miraculous. Never mind that our family only steps foot in church for funerals or weddings, this is our holiday. It is food and drink and family.
‘Family’ sometimes being loosely defined.
I listen to the voices and laughter floating above the soft holiday music. I don’t hear Nic and I’m pretty sure I can identify all the jackets in the foyer as belonging to various family members here for game night. Everything is reassuringly the same as it is every holiday, from the banister ringed in deep green garland to the massive wreath with gold and red baubles hanging on the wall.
He’s not here. All that worry, for nothing.
I let out a huge sigh of relief, and when I draw my next breath, everything smells more Christmassy, more magical. I feel joyful and triumphant.
