HERE TOMORROW
7 PM PST
PEGGY JAEGER
AUTHOR OF:
With Christmas season in full swing, baker Regina San Valentino is up to her elbows in cake batter and cookie dough. Between running her own business, filling her bursting holiday order book, and managing her crazy Italian family, she's got no time to relax, no room for more custom cake orders, and no desire to find love. A failed marriage and a personal tragedy have convinced her she's better off alone. Then a handsome stranger enters her bakery begging for help. Regina can't find it in her heart to refuse him.
Connor Gilhooly is in a bind. He needs a specialty cake for an upcoming fundraiser and puts himself—and his company's reputation—in Regina's capable hands. What he doesn't plan on is falling for a woman with heartbreak in her eyes or dealing with a wise-guy father and a disapproving family.
Can Regina lay her past to rest and trust the man who's awoken her heart?
Connor Gilhooly is in a bind. He needs a specialty cake for an upcoming fundraiser and puts himself—and his company's reputation—in Regina's capable hands. What he doesn't plan on is falling for a woman with heartbreak in her eyes or dealing with a wise-guy father and a disapproving family.
Can Regina lay her past to rest and trust the man who's awoken her heart?
WILD ROSE PRESS: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/6235-christmas-and-cannolis.html?search_query=peggy+jaeger&results=18
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/christmas-and-cannolis-peggy-jaeger/1129784206?ean=2940161544976
Google Play ( Books): https://play.google.com/store/search?q=christmas%20and%20cannolis%20by%20Peggy%20jaeger&c=books&hl=en
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/christmas-and-cannolis
“So, family’s important to you.”
“More than anything.”
Pop nodded. “You married?”
“Never been.”
Pop’s eyes narrowed. “Guy respects family so much, I’d think he’d have a wife and kids. I met mine when we were fifteen. Been together every day since.”
“You’re lucky. I guess I just haven’t found the right lady yet.” He gazes flicked to me so quick, I thought I imagined it. When I saw the subtle tug of his lips lifting, I knew I hadn’t.
“What are you, forty? Forty-five? Can’t wait too much longer or you’ll be shooting blanks when it comes to making kids.”
The blood that drained to my toes? It shot straight back up again heating my cheeks like I was standing in one of my baking ovens with the thermostat turned to one thousand degrees Fahrenheit.
Hope Kildaire gave up her dream of becoming a nurse practitioner when a car accident killed her father and left her mother an invalid. Working two jobs and caring for her mother leaves the twenty-seven-year-old with no time for fun or relationships. When a law firm representing her paternal grandparents sends her several letters, Hope ignores them. She despises the family who disowned her father and wants nothing to do with them.
Lawyer Tyler Coleman's job is simply to obtain Hope's signature on a legal document. Getting it is harder than planned, though, when an unexpected attraction blossom between them. If Ty is honest with Hope about why he's in Willow Springs, he'll fulfill his assignment but may risk hurting her.
The opportunity to have everything she's ever desired is at Hope's fingertips. Will her dream come true at the expense of Tyler's love?
Lawyer Tyler Coleman's job is simply to obtain Hope's signature on a legal document. Getting it is harder than planned, though, when an unexpected attraction blossom between them. If Ty is honest with Hope about why he's in Willow Springs, he'll fulfill his assignment but may risk hurting her.
The opportunity to have everything she's ever desired is at Hope's fingertips. Will her dream come true at the expense of Tyler's love?
Hope stood behind the bar, filling two glasses with draft beer. She hadn’t spotted his approach, so he took the moment to observe her unawares.
A reserved smile graced her face as the guy waiting for his order chatted her up. His early twenties by Tyler’s guess, the kid stared at Hope with a serious case of attraction. He knew how the younger man felt.
During their lesson, her hair had been woven into a braid. In the lodge, when she’d removed her hat, he’d likened the colors to butterscotch and honey. Now with it unbraided and freely floating down past her shoulders, the colors burst into life. Gold and red highlights shimmered from the waves framing her face as if each strand had been hand painted for emphasis. In the tavern’s subdued lighting, Hope was a bright, vibrant beacon, sparkling with health and life.
Tyler was drawn to her light, her vitality, as if he’d spent his existence until that moment in perpetual darkness.
Hope turned, reached for something behind her, and caught his eye.
For a moment her body froze, her hand still outstretched, her eyes widening in surprise when they lit on him. She dipped her chin and regarded him from under her eyelashes as she finger-swiped the hair falling across her face behind her ear. A quick head bob his way indicated she’d be right with him.
With an expert’s finesse, she uncorked a bottle of Jameson’s, poured a thimbleful each into two shot glasses, then added them to beer-guy’s order. He slid a bill into her hand and then waved off the change she tried to give him back. He scooped the drinks, then carried them back to his table. Hope slid the change into one of the jelly jars behind the bar marked with several names, hers among them, and made her way over to him.
“Hey, New York.” Sweet laughter warmed with surprise rang in her voice. “How are the legs?”
Tyler groaned and stretched them out in front of him. “Better after a long, hot soak, but I’m betting they’re gonna feel worse in the morning.”
She tossed him a quick, sympathetic look. “Make sure you take some kind of analgesic before going to sleep tonight. It’ll help. Trust me.”
“Will do.”
“What can I get you?”
He spurted off the name of one of the draft beers.
She pulled it and then brought it back to him. “Anything to eat? I know the inn doesn’t serve dinner.”
He glanced up at the selection board again and asked, “What do you recommend?”
“The soup’s hot and fabulous. Comes with a salad or fresh bread. The burgers here are always great, but I’m biased.” Her open smile charmed him.
“Sold.”
“So,” he said after she came back from placing his order, “you’re a woman of many talents. Ski instructor. Bartender.”
The brighter colors in her hair glistened when she shook her head. “We in the business prefer the term mixologist.”
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