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In the Nick of Timecolor:#4D1B02"">


by


Christine DePetrillo


$1.95


Available in PDF, LIT, & ZIP formats


Genre:Contemporary


Length:Short


Cover:BG Designs


Purchase at www.whispershome.com



Electrician Ivy Garrow would rather be at home in Rhode Island enjoying a snow-covered New England Christmas. Instead she's trapped in the Hawaiian heat at her sister's wedding. An entire continent separates Ivy from her annual
holiday fun.


Canoe builder Nick Huntley can't wait to dump off his current passenger, a bride with the body of a goddess and the arrogance to match. When he arrives at the wedding and meets the bride's sister, Nick is
ready to row away from double the hassle.


Is Christmas magic possible when the air is filled with sunshine and ukulele music?


Excerpt:



“Far as I know, Santa doesn’t leave men under Christmas trees for good little girls,” Aunt Carol said. “You have to go out there and get one, sweetheart.” With a pat on the shoulder, Aunt Carol left Ivy to find
Uncle Phil.


Looking out over the crowd of mostly couples, Ivy tried to rub away the hollow feeling in her stomach.


“Why is it that weddings have the capacity to make you feel like shit?”


Ivy turned around to find Nick standing behind her with his hands buried in his pants’ pockets. Her gaze settled on the smooth skin showing from the open collar of his button-down shirt.


“How did you know I feel like shit right now?” Ivy leaned against the wall next to Nick. “And why are you still at this stupid wedding?”


“I overheard your conversation just now. That why-aren’t-you-married discussion always makes me feel like shit, so I figured the same was true for you.” Nick pointed to Ivy’s Aunt Carol, who was currently gossiping with Ivy’s
mother. Uncle Phil was circling them like a shark on the hunt waiting for his
chance to dance with his wife.


“And I tried leaving this stupid wedding twice, but your father keeps insisting I stay.” He shrugged, and Ivy liked how he rocked back on his heels a bit. His shirt pressed against his torso causing Ivy to wonder
what was hiding underneath.


“Don’t you have family to celebrate Christmas with?”


“Nope.” Nick rocked forward this time. “My parents are gone. It’s just me and my canoes at home.” He glanced down at his shoes then out over the crowd.


“I remember Clarice saying that you make your canoes. Is that true?”


“Yeah. They’re not all as pompous as the swan out there.” He pointed out the window of the ballroom facing the dock.


Ivy leaned over to get a look. As she neared Nick, she got a whiff of salted air and wood stain. Made her think of the time she wired a yacht in Newport
with her father. The owner was an ancient man. Nothing at all like the man
standing next to her now.


“It may be pompous, but it’s beautiful. I’m sure the brides love it.”


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