Jules could use a little Christmas magic, so when Elvis pops up claiming that he was sent by Santa to fill her Christmas list, all she has to do is believe – in the magic the season has to offer.
The bus slid up to the stop near the coffee shop. I hustled out the door and rushed toward the store, noticing a guy reading the letters to Santa in the window. There were five minutes 'til opening. I didn't want to disappoint Joe again by being late, so I broke into a trot – and slipped on a hunk of ice. The sidewalk was coming up fast, but I fell into the arms of the letter reader.
He smiled one of the most adorable smiles I've ever seen and a cute little dimple popped out in his cheek. "You smell like peppermint," he said.
I opened my mouth, stammered like an idiot, and shut up. Mr. Dimple held me close. I didn't want to move. He owned a very solid body, with unkempt, curly, sandy blond hair that covered his ears and ice blue eyes that pierced my soul. I melted like a snowman in June.
"Hi, Elvis." I managed to squeak.
He chuckled and helped me to firm footing on the ground. "And you are?"
"Julie Erwin, but everyone calls me Jules."
"So, you're the one with the depressing Christmas list."
"Hey, I can't believe you're insulting me and we just met."
BARNES AND NOBLE: