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Christmas with the (not so) Awful Ex-boyfriend

Christmas with the (not so) Awful Ex-boyfriend

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Ten years ago he disappeared. Now he's back.

Chris broke Taylor's heart when he left for spring break and never contacted her again, now he's back and has convinced her to co-captain a city league basketball team with him during the holidays. Can a little Christmas magic, and one special kid, help bring these two back together again?

Main Tropes

  • Second Chance Romance
  • Holiday Romance
  • Reunion Romance
  • Shared Past
  • Small Town
  • Holiday Romance

Synopsis

It may take a Christmas miracle.

In the midst of the chaos of running her family's business, organizing the annual Christmas festival, and caring for her recovering mother, Taylor's plate is more than full. So when her long-lost college love unexpectedly reappears at her door, she's anything but thrilled—especially upon discovering Chris is now her mother's physical therapist, and has relocated to their small town.

Chris carries with him a decade of unresolved history, unsure of how to bridge the gap left by their past. Despite the passage of time and distance, Taylor remains a constant presence in his thoughts. Taking the bold step of moving to her hometown, Chris hopes to rewrite their story and unearth the possibility of a Christmas miracle of their own.

As old wounds resurface and buried emotions reignite, Taylor and Chris find themselves entangled in a dance of second chances. Amidst the twinkling lights of the festive season, can they untangle the knots of their past and discover the magic of a love worth fighting for?

Look Inside

Taylor was a woman on a mission the next Monday. She hurried down the stairs of her mom’s house with her purse in hand. Getting everything ready for her mom that morning had taken more time than she’d planned on. Petunia, Linda’s calico cat, cried out for attention and Taylor leaned over to run a hand down the feline’s back as she rubbed up against Taylor’s leg.

“She’s always looking for attention,” Linda said.

“You’re sure you’re ready to be left here alone?” Taylor asked, though they had already canvassed this question. With the electric wheelchair they had picked up on Saturday, Linda was getting around just fine, but Taylor worried anyway.

“You have to get out of here before I kick you out,” Linda said. “I don’t need to be mother-henned every minute of every day.”

“I know. I know.” She did, but Taylor still worried. Sure, the physical therapist was due any moment, and her aunt would be by at lunchtime to hang out for a while. And Taylor’s sister, Jill, would probably swing by in the afternoon.

Okay, so maybe her mom did have it all under control. “Fine, I’ll stop buzzing around you. You know how to reach me if you need anything. You promise to keep your cell phone handy so you can call for help.”

“I promise.”

Taylor couldn’t quite forget finding her mom injured. Nightmares about it happening again kept coming back. “Okay, fine, I’m leaving. Have a good day.”

“You, too.”

Taylor grabbed her jacket on her way to the garage but stopped when the doorbell rang.

“That’s probably the physical therapist. He’s such a handsome young man.” Her mom had mentioned him a few times since meeting him, hinting not so subtly that both of her daughters were far too single. Though she didn’t harp constantly like some mothers Taylor knew, Linda Campbell wasn’t the least conflicted about whether or not she wanted her daughters to settle down with “a nice young man.” Linda had been a widow for a dozen years with no apparent interest in dating again, but she was all about her daughters getting out and finding Mr. Right.                                                                              After some of the experiences she’d had, Taylor had given up on such a man even existing.

“I’ll let him in.” At least then when she told her mom she wasn’t interested, Linda wouldn’t be able to say that she hadn’t even met the man yet.

Taylor moved through the house to the large foyer with its glistening chandelier to open one of the double doors that fronted the building. Taylor couldn’t imagine her mom selling it.

She opened the door and smiled in greeting until her hazel eyes met slate blue ones. Very familiar slate blue eyes. Her smile fell as she stared at the man standing on her porch. Was she seeing things? “Chris?”

He flashed her a grin. “Hi, Taylor. It’s been a while.”

Her first reaction was relief and joy that he was alive after she had worried and wondered about what had happened to him for years. She pulled him into a tight hug, clinging to him for a long moment. “I wondered if you were dead. What brought you by after all these years?”

“I’m sorry I worried you.” He held her back tightly, his familiar embrace and the same woodsy after shave he had favored before clung to him.

Taylor pulled back after a long moment, sliding from the embrace to look at him. Now that the shock had hit and was starting to dissipate, the first wash of pleasure moved past, and other emotions started to surface. His tone had been so casual, and his smile was relieved. “Why did you come here?”

“I missed you.” Chris paused and his expression shifted to uncertainty. “And I’m your mom’s new physical therapist.” He wore a blue polo shirt with a company logo on the left side that indicated he worked in health care.

She wondered how she had missed the outfit when she opened the door. Whatever air had been in her sails a moment earlier disappeared. “I’m celebrating that you’re alive, and you’re really here to take care of my mom.” Even now he hadn’t come for her. It figured. 

“So, you really thought I might be dead?”

“What was I supposed to think when you just disappeared and stopped answering any phone calls.” It had been years, but the pain and worry flashed back as if it was only a few weeks after he hadn’t returned from spring break.

He looked sincerely repentant. “I’m sorry, I should have found some way to let you know.”

Those words hit her like a body blow, knocking out what remained of her surprise. She pulled her hands away and took another step back. “Right. Because I’m sure it was so hard for you to pick up the phone or shoot me an email. Obviously, it would have been too taxing for you to answer one of the dozens of text messages I sent or to return any of my phone calls.” Jerk.

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