My holly jolly Christmas just went up in smoke. Literally ...
Playing nursemaid to Bradford "Three" Fuller is the last thing I need for Christmas.
But for the next few days, I'm stuck in charge of my ex's sparkling eyes, his ridiculous abs, and his (mostly) accidental kisses.
I don't have a choice.
You see, Three's only hurt because of me. And not like he hurt me a decade ago. Like ... I literally concussed the man with a fire extinguisher.
Still, a make-or-break mission for my parents is what brought me back to the small town where he crushed my tender heart in the first place.
And if I screw up, I risk my mother's approval plus the job at my father's law firm I've worked for my entire life.
So I sure hope Santa stuffs my stocking full of self-control. And a defibrillator.
Because my heart just may be broken by this second chance with Three ...
