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 …
