A Tree, Mistletoe & A Sunset E-Book

Bartow Sophie

• Herausgeber: Two Hearts Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Enjoy this steamy small-town romantic suspense series, where family bonds run deep, and let the power of love sweep you away.

That’s My Bra!

Harper Taylor returns to Swan Harbor with a broken heart. Teaching at the local university and participating in a secret match research project helps her begin to heal. But her heart's unexpected response to a fellow professor has her believing she's been led home for a reason.
Aiden Jones may have chosen Swan Harbor University randomly. But once he arrived, he discovered a long-lost family and a connection to a local mystery. However, his connection with Harper gives him the confidence to fight for what he wants.
Join Harper, Aiden, and the rest of Swan Harbor – they know how to celebrate the holidays! And nothing says Merry Christmas like the tree lighting in the town square. But an unorthodox thief gives the residents a big surprise and has them holding on to their skivvies … literally.
 

Welcome to Swan Harbor 
A Tree, Mistletoe & A Sunset is Book 5 of the Hope & Hearts from Swan Harbor Series, as well as Book 4 in the ‘Hope’ story. If you enjoy reading books with a sexy, shy male who knows how to treat a lady, you’ll love this book. It’s a small-town, secret identity, friends-to-lovers, romcom mystery with a guaranteed happy ending. T his is Book 5 of a 15-book complete series.
Gift yourself a copy of A Tree, Mistletoe & A Sunset , and enjoy the holidays in Swan Harbor.

Leseprobe

A TREE, MISTLETOE & A SUNSET

A SMALL TOWN HOLIDAY MYSTERY ROMANCE

HOPE & HEARTS FROM SWAN HARBOR

BOOK 5

SOPHIE BARTOW

CONTENTS

Hope & Hearts Series in Order

Some residents of Swan Harbor

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

My street team;

The Wall-Giennie Wicks-Delaney,

Connector Inspector- Linda Hagerty

Reactor Inspector- Jami Fenton

Plot Catcher- Barbara Berry

Sign Crew- Kate Semenyuk

The Clean-up crew: Cindy, Laura, Kim, Maggie, and Sylvia, whose feedback was valuable.

And my family, who are still waiting for me to clean the house.

Inspiration began

when a lost girl fell for a lost boy

Two Hearts Press

An imprint of LLIPSS, INC.

Copyright © 2020 by Sophie Bartow

Regular Paperback ISBN: 978-1-965510-12-4

Regular Print Hardback: 978-1-965510-25-4

Large Print Paperback ISBN: 978-1-965510-13-1

Large Print Hardback ISBN: 978-1-965510-14-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business or locales is coincidental.

Cover Design by Kate Semenyuk

FROM DARKNESS INTO LOVE

KITTENS, PUPPIES & LOVE

BROTHERS, HOPE & HEARTS

KISSES, FAMILY & HOPE

A TREE, MISTLETOE & A SUNSET

HOPE, HEARTS & FOREVER

THE MEMORY OF LOVE

THE INNOCENCE OF LOVE

THE FORGIVENESS OF LOVE

THE POWER OF LOVE

THE CHRISTMAS LOVE SONG

THE KISS OF LOVE

THE LESSONS OF LOVE

THE HEART OF LOVE

THE JOURNEY TO LOVE

Hope & Hearts Historical Novellas

GUIDED BY LIGHT - 1952

GUIDED BY HEART - 1964

GUIDED BY LOVE - 1969

WELCOME TO SWAN HARBOR- 1979

FINDING HER LOST HEART- 1983/1990

GUIDED BY A KISS - 1995

SOME RESIDENTS OF SWAN HARBOR

Harper Taylor: She is a professor at Swan Harbor University in the Education Department. Her parents are Beverly and Greg Taylor, and sibling to Rod and MacKenzie.

Aiden Jones: He is an English professor at Swan Harbor University and the cousin of Killian and Liam.

Quinn Jones: He is an investigative journalist who travels the globe chasing stories that catch his fancy. He is the brother of Aiden and the cousin of Killian and Liam. His story is told in The Forgiveness of Love.

Sarah Jones: Sarah is in town for the holidays and interested in Swan Harbor’s history, especially the ruby heart. She is the sister of Aiden and Quinn. Her story will be told in The Heart of Love.

Rachel Adams: She teaches music classes at Siren’s Song and is Tyler’s singing partner. She is bestfriends with Harper and Eden and the mother to ten-month-old Riley. Her story is told inThe Christmas Love Song.

Eden Fowler: She is a second-grade teacher at Swan Harbor Elementary. She’s best friends with Harper and Rachel.

Killian Reade: Investigator for the Swan Harbor Sheriff's Department. Brother to Liam Reade and son of Finley Reade. Engaged to Emma Foster. Their story is told in Kittens, Puppies & Love.

Emma Foster: The Veterinarian and owner of Swan Harbor Veterinarian Hospital. Daughter of Ava King and Peter Foster and engaged to Killian Reade.

Liam Reade: Firefighter/Paramedic in Swan Harbor. Is the Chief Paramedic for the Swan Harbor Fire Department. He’s married to Elsa Winters. Their story is told in Brothers, Hope & Hearts.

Elsa Winters: She has a private pediatric practice in Swan Harbor and is married to Liam Reade.

Finley Reade: Owns a real estate business in New York City. Father of Liam and Killian. He is married to AvaKing. Their story is told in Kisses Family & Hope.

Ava King: Philanthropist and businesswoman for King Industries. Mother of Emma Foster. Married to Finley Reade.

Beverly Taylor: She is an Economics professor at Swan Harbor University, married to Greg, and mother to Harper, Rod, and MacKenzie.

Greg Taylor: He is the Captain of the Swan Harbor Police, married to Beverly, and father to Harper, Rod, and MacKenzie.

Rod Taylor: He is an E.M.T. for the Swan Harbor Fire Department.

Laura Hall: She is the director of Harbor Cross Nursing Home, married to Joshua, and mother to Devin, Jenna, Leah, and Zoey.

Joshua Hall: He is a History professor at Swan Harbor University, married to Laura, and father to Devin, Jenna, Leah, and Zoey.

Terri Patterson: She is the matriarch of Swan Harbor, mother to Danny, Beverly, Laura, Troy, and Rhonda,and grandmotherto many. Terri is also a mother figure to Captain Jack. Her story is told inGuided by Light.

Rusty Langley: He is an investigator for the Swan Harbor Sheriff’s Department and partner to Killian Reade. He is married to Rene Langley and father to Roland. Their story is told inThe Power of Love.

Rene Langley: She is the mayor of Swan Harbor, married to Rusty, and mother to Roland.

Dylan Prince: The Sheriff of Swan Harbor, married to Molly BarnesPrince. He is the brother of Jessie and the late James and son of the late Ruth and Robert. Their story is told in The Innocence of Love.

Molly Barnes Prince: She teaches first grade at Swan Harbor Elementary School and is married to Dylan Prince.

Rupert Duncan: He is best friends with Jimmie, married to Lois, father to Lanie, father-in-law to Wyatt, and grandfather to Roman and Lucy. He is also an ex-agent for The Agency and occasionally helps the Sheriff’s Department. Their story is told in Guided by Love, set in 1969.

Jimmie Tanner: He is best friends with Rupert, married to Madge, father to Wyatt, father-in-law to Lanie, and grandfather to Roman and Lucy. He is also an ex-agent for The Agency and periodically helps the Sheriff’s Department. Their story is told in Guided by Heart, set in 1964.

Captain Jack: Retired Naval officer and local legend of Swan Harbor who gives out sage advice to the town’s locals. Owner of Captain Jack’s Fine Dining, located at the newly renovated pier in an old Spanish galleon. His story is told in The Journey to Love.

ONE

QUICK NOTE: If you enjoy A Tree, Mistletoe & A Sunset, be sure to check out my offer for more Aiden and Harper at the end.

With that, enjoy!

* * *

Swan Harbor Town Square

December 1

9:00 p.m.

“That’s my bra!”

It took effort, but Harper Taylor pulled her attention from the giant Christmas tree in front of her to her grandmother. “What did you say?”

“That bra,” Terri Patterson pointed to the bright red bra, size 40 DD, hanging from one of the branches, “is mine.”

“Grandma,” Harper tried again, “there are several bras up there. How can you be so sure?”

Her grandmother gave her a disgruntled look. “I may be 90, but I’m not senile. I’m going to talk to the Sheriff!”

“But,” Harper sent her best friends Rachel and Eden a ‘help me’ look, “I never said you were senile, just …” Except it was too late. Her grandmother had taken off, apparently in search of the Sheriff. “Now what?”

Rachel giggled. “You either help her get her bra back or⁠—”

“—Stay here and wait for her to return,” Eden offered.

Harper glanced up at the lighted tree. “How did this happen?”

“The answer depends on the question,” Rachel observed. “Are you asking how your grandmother’s bra ended up on the town’s Christmas tree? Or are you asking how bras in general ended up on it?”

“Does it matter?” Harper groaned. “And we were having so much fun too.”

“I’m still having fun,” Eden smiled. “This is the first lighting in years we’ve been together.”

Harper immediately felt bad because her friend was right. “I’m sorry, Eden. I should be looking on the bright side instead of being such a downer.”

“Come on, Harper,” Eden linked their arms as they started walking, “you’re not being a downer. Things happen, and it’s okay. You look at what happened, and if it was your fault, step back and try again. That’s life.”

Harper exchanged looks with Rachel before stopping to give her attention to Eden. “That’s very pragmatic of you, but you lost me.”

Eden sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I just …”

“Saw Cameron and his wife Jessie,” Harper tossed out, knowing her friend was still embarrassed about her behavior when it came to Cameron Hunter.

“Yes.” Eden blew out a breath. “It’s just …”

“Some things are harder to push aside than others,” Harper suggested, knowing she’d brought the conversation back to herself.

“Aren’t we a fun group?” Rachel offered. “I fell for Austin, who left me pregnant before running off to join the Army. Eden fell for a man who wasn’t available.”

“And I fell for Joel,” Harper took up the story, “who was sleeping with my roommate.”

“Do you think we need therapy?” Eden’s laugh sounded strained.

Harper looked back up at the Christmas Tree. The seventy-five-foot Balsam fir stood proudly in the center of the town square decorated with lights and large colorful balls. Except when the mayor had yelled, ‘flip the switch,’ the citizens had gotten an eyeful.

“You have to admit,” she pressed her lips closed to keep from laughing, “whoever did the ‘decorating’ was quite creative.”

“Because they hung bras on the tree?” a confused Rachel asked.

“No,” Harper exclaimed, “because of the colors. How many drawers did they have to go through to find bras that matched the balls already hanging?”

Eden glanced at the tree before looking back at her, and her lips twitched. “There are no drawers up there.”

Harper was taken aback for a split second, and then Eden’s joke clicked, and all three women began laughing.

“That was bad, Eden,” Harper laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

Harper’s gaze bounced over one fellow professor before landing on the one who’d spoken. “Nothing important.”

“Are you sure?” Logan Clark’s sexy smirk was firmly in place. “That was some laughter for it to be nothing.”

She had to fight to keep the annoyance off her face, and her gaze flew to her friends before landing on Aiden Jones. Help! But since he was so quiet, she assumed her silent plea had fallen on deaf ears.

“I—”

“Leave her alone, Logan,” Aiden responded, almost as if he’d understood her silent plea. “Have a good evening, Doctor Taylor.” Then he pushed his friend up the path.

“Who was that?” Eden whispered.

“Which one?” Harper watched the men as they were swallowed by the crowd.

“Both.”

“They work at Swan Harbor University with me,” Harper explained. “And I’m afraid Logan, the blond,” she clarified, “is my secret match.”

Rachel frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“My latest message,” Harper told her, pulling out her phone. “See.”

Dear Rosalind,

Thank you for your message. I’m not going to say I’m the man you’re looking for because I want you to listen to your heart. And perhaps on New Year’s Eve, you can let me know.

When asked what kind of woman I’m attracted to, I’ve been hard-pressed to put it into words. Every woman has their own ‘something’ special. But I can share what I admire with you.

I admire a woman who is comfortable in her own skin. One who is loyal, not only to her family but also to her friends. One who is alright with silence and is just as interested in what I have to say as she wants me to be in what she says.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Your Secret Match,

Clark

“Sounds romantic,” Eden sighed. “But why do you think it’s from Logan⁠—?”

“—And not the dreamy dark-headed one with the accent?” Rachel finished.

Harper pointed to the name. “Hello, Clark … as in Logan Clark. How unoriginal can you get?”

“But he’s gorgeous, Harper. What’s not to like?”

Harper once again looked off in the direction the men had gone and tried to put her thoughts into words. “You’re right. He’s nice to look at, but he knows it. Plus, he talks all the time. He’s exhausting to be around. Besides, he reminds me of Joel.”

“That would do it,” Eden acknowledged.

“What about Aiden?” Rachel asked, wearing a dreamy smile. “He’s easy on the eyes and seems very sweet. In fact, I just found out he lives in my apartment complex.”

“He seems very awkward and unsure of himself,” Harper offered, thinking of his behavior the few times she’d been around him. “He makes me feel … like I need to fill the empty spaces.”

“But those few words are said in an oo la la voice,” Rachel murmured, “and he makes you feel. That’s no small feat after what Joel put you through.”

“Maybe,” Harper shrugged as if it didn’t matter, “but there are also my matches. And while I have no interest in Logan, there was something … sweet about Orlando and Rhett.”

“Wouldn’t it be romantic if—” Rachel began.

“Harper, come with me.” Grandma Terri interrupted. “I think one of your bras was on the tree too. They need you to identify it!”

Harper sent a panicked look to her friends. “Could this night get any worse?”

* * *

Swan Harbor Town Square

December 1

10:00 p.m.

“You want me to do what?” Aiden sent his cousin, Killian, an annoyed look, wishing he’d left with Logan.

“Man, the box,” Killian, who was an investigator with the Sheriff’s Department, repeated.

“And why does this box need to be ‘manned’ again?” huffed Aiden.

“Because we want to find out who appropriated these.” Killian fingered one of the bra straps hanging over the edge of the box he was to ‘man.’ “And I can’t do it all.”

The innocent look on his cousin’s face had Aiden taking a step back. “And there’s no one else to take on this task?”

“Come on, Aiden,” Killian pushed. “It’s no big deal. You act like you’ve never handled ladies and their lingerie before. All you need to do is write their name and phone number with the item claimed on a piece of paper. And we’ll do the rest.”

Aiden humphed. “All I have to do is take names and numbers?”

“Don’t forget the item information.” Killian picked up a bra and separated the tag. “For this one, you would write the owner’s name and number, write pink bra, size 34C.”

“Well, alright.”

“Thanks.” Killian tossed the bra back into the box and turned to go. “You know, it might be easier if you separate them all. That way, the women can just look for their size.”

Aiden watched Killian leave and wondered where he’d gone wrong. His brother, Quinn, was off chasing some new story. Sarah, his sister, was back in Cornwall, researching their pirate relative. Whereas he was, “Complaining,” he muttered, pulling out a handful of bras to sort.

It took several tries before Aiden developed a system that seemed to work. He’d just started sorting the last handful when a new pile of bras landed on the table.

“Bloody hell, Liam.” Aiden met the laughing eyes of his cousin. “What are you doing?”

Liam sent him a look that said, ‘Are you daft?’ “I’m, bringing you more of the colorful clothing.”

“Then ask where to put them,” Aiden grumbled. “I’m trying to sort.”

“Excuse me.” Liam moved his pile into the box. “I didn’t mean to interfere with your system.”

“Good,” Aiden grunted. “Your bloody brother asked me to help, so here I am.”

“Liam!” A petite, gray-headed woman rushed into the tent. “Killian sent me to claim my brassiere.”

“Lois, meet my cousin, Aiden Jones. Killian put him in charge of sorting everything.”

“Cousin, you say,” Lois turned her dark eyes in Aiden’s direction. “I know you.”

Aiden exchanged confused looks with Liam. “No, Madam, I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“I’m sorry.” She laughed. “I meant … I know all about you.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yes,” she exclaimed. “Been in Swan Harbor since August, teach in the English department at Swan Harbor U. Live in the Camelot Arms Apartments, and you’re currently not dating anyone.” Then she turned a smile on him as if to say, ‘How did I do?’

“Bloody hell.”

Liam snickered. “Swan Harbor gossip line, right Lois?”

“That’s right,” she agreed. “So, what do I need to do?”

“Aiden will explain everything. I’ll see you later.”

Lois looked at Aiden expectantly, and for a second, he wished he had a bit of his cousin’s confidence. “You’re here to reclaim your missing garment?”

“Oh, yes,” she giggled. “Rupert, he’s my husband of fifty years, said he saw my pretty green bra hanging up there on that tree and well …”

“Just put your name and phone number right here.” He handed her a pen. “Then choose which of these green ones is yours.”

While she was writing her name, he continued sorting the new bras, surprised by the variety of colors.

“There are quite a few green ones,” Lois murmured. “How do I know which one is mine?”

He wanted to ask how it was possible she didn’t recognize her own unmentionable. But when another woman arrived, he left Lois looking at the green ones and went to help the newcomer.

“Write your name here,” Aiden repeated. “Then we’ll find your garment.”

“Thank you, Son.” She wrote her name with a flourish. “And now?”

“You find—” he began, only to be interrupted when she reached for the same green bra Lois was holding.

“That’s mine!” she shrieked.

Lois’ startled eyes met Aiden’s before she turned her ire back on the woman who was trying to tug the bra from her hands. “Stop it, Madge. It’s not yours, it’s mine.”

Aiden glanced around for someone to help, but with only him and the two older women in the room, he was out of luck.

“Ladies,” he exclaimed. “Please, let’s talk about this.”

“What’s to talk about?” Lois cried. “It took me forever to find my bra, and she’s trying to steal it.”

“Me!” Madge screamed. “That’s my brand-new Christmas bra from Jimmie. He bought it for me from Rebecca’s Fantasy.”

The questions, where’s Jimmie, and what’s Rebecca’s Fantasy, flashed through his mind. But since neither answer was needed to solve the current predicament, he searched for a match to the bra they were holding.

“Rupert bought this for me,” Lois shouted. “I’ve worn it several times.”

“Then I bet it’s old and faded,” Madge snickered, pulling the straps taut. “You can tell this one hasn’t been worn.”

“Baloney,” Lois retorted. “It’s mine. Let it go.”

“Ladies,” Aiden stepped around the table, “let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Madge cried.

“Let it go, Madge,” Lois demanded.

“Fine!”

There was something in her voice that should have acted as a warning, but Aiden was too far gone. Madge let go, and the strap kicked back, hitting him in the face. “Bloody hell,” he exclaimed.

“Now, look at what you’ve done,” Lois shouted.

“Me?”

Aiden worked his jaw up and down several times, the place where the strap had snapped still stinging.

“What’s all the ruckus?” another voice asked, entering the tent.

Aiden turned to tell the newcomer he had everything under control, and his gaze met the brown eyes of his colleague. Heat climbed, and he wished ….

Bloody hell!

“Are you okay, young man?” the older woman asked.

“I’m …” He shook his head and attempted to push away the embarrassment, then tried again, “I’m fine. There seems to be a bit of a misunderstanding.”

She humphed. “There’s always a misunderstanding between these two. Let me see if I can be of some help.”

“Thank you.” Aiden slipped back around the table.

“It’s not a problem.” Her smile grew. “I’m Terri Patterson, and this is my granddaughter, Harper.” She nudged the younger woman closer to the table, “My single granddaughter, Harper. Maybe you can help her find her bra.”

* * *

Harper winced, her grandmother’s introduction making her wish there were a hole to crawl into.

“Grandma,” she gave an exasperated sigh, “I’ve got this.”

Are you sure about that?

Her eyes met Aiden’s briefly before his skittered away, obviously just as embarrassed as she. “I’m uh, I’m sorry about that.”

He waved his hand away as if it were no big deal. But then, instead of moving on, he rubbed his fingers over the red welt slashed across his cheekbone. “Are you really okay?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s nothing.”

Harper took a deep breath and glanced at the assortment of bras spread out in front of her. Cotton and satin, old and new, plain and flowered. “How did this happen?” she muttered the same rhetorical question as earlier.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Aiden responded. “But why don’t you …?”

Her gaze bounced to his, curious if he were serious. He glanced up, and behind his tortoiseshell lens, there was a twinkle in his eyes. It had her breath catching, and her heart ticking up a few beats. “What do I do?”

“Which uhm, which,” he cleared his throat and tried again, “which garment is yours?”

Harper looked at the rows of bras on the table, as meticulously lined up as if he were holding a sale. “Here it is.” She picked up a royal blue satin bra. “Now I know why I couldn’t find it when I put on the matching panties today.”

Aiden’s gulp was her first indication she’d vocalized that last comment. “Oh, gosh,” she clamped her hand over her mouth, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite alright,” Aiden assured her. “I’m happy you once again have a matching set.”

His quip was so unlike him, Harper was taken aback for a second. Since he refused to look at her, though, she grabbed the paper and quickly wrote her name.

“Grandma,” she stuffed the bra into her pocket, “did you find what you were looking for?”

“Don’t be so impatient.” Terri plucked a green bra off the table. I’m solving a problem. “Now Madge,” she held out the green item to the redhead who’d been fighting with Lois. “This has to be yours. Your cup would runneth over if you tried to wear that other one.”

Harper thought she heard Aiden groan and noted his face had turned even redder. Before she could comment, Madge took the green bra from her grandmother.

“Seems you’re right, Terri.”She quickly filled out the piece of paper. “I’ll see you all later.”

“That woman,” Terri tsked. “She doesn’t use the brains the good Lord gave her. There’s no way she didn’t know her ta tas wouldn’t fit in that little thing Lois was holding.”

Harper looked around for that hole to sink into,and her eyes accidentally met Aiden’s. I’m sorry she tried to telegraph.

He gave her a look, she could have sworn, said, I understand.

Had they just exchanged silent communication?

“What did you say your name was again?” Terri pinned her steely dark-eyed gaze on Aiden.

“Aiden Jones, Mrs. Patterson,” he replied. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

“That’s right,” Terri went on. “We met at Ava and Finn’s the other day, didn’t we?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Such manners.” Her grin had Harper preparing for an embarrassing comment. “The Christmas Gala is coming up soon. If you need a date⁠—”

“Grandma!” Harper exclaimed. “Just stop!”

“What?” Terri sent Harper the ‘I’m old and can say what I want look.’

Aiden cleared his throat. “Uhh, I’ll remember that.”

Almost against her better judgment, Harper once again looked up. Their eyes met, and he winked, causing all the spit in her mouth to dry.

“Aiden.” Suddenly, several more people filled the tent at once.

“Come on, Grandma,” Harper cupped Terri’s elbow, “let’s go.”

“Okay, dear.”

They’d just about reached the exit when she heard. “Have a nice night, Doctor Taylor.” Harper tossed a little grin over her shoulder, all the while trying to figure out how come his wink had affected her so. After all, it was just a simple eye reflex. Right?

* * *

The look on Aiden’s face had Liam glancing toward the door. “Did you see that?”

“Did I see what?” Killian mumbled, his attention on his notebook.

“The way Aiden was looking at Harper.”

“Bloody hell, Liam,” Killian grumbled. “Don’t tell me you’re at it again.

“What?”

Killian raised his brows. “You know what. Aiden’s a nice guy. Leave him alone.”

“I know he’s nice,” Liam agreed. “But he needs some help getting … put together.”

“You don’t like the tweed, plaid, and glasses?”

“I don’t mind the tweed, plaid, and glasses,” Liam retorted. “But … he always makes me feel he just grabbed from a laundry basket.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t do the same,” Killian argued. “In fact — bloody hell …”

Liam glanced toward the door to see what the exclamation was over just in time to see Morgan Ross sashay into their makeshift headquarters.

“Hi boys,” she chirped, in a low and seductive voice, which matched her skimpy elf costume. “I’m here to reclaim my bra.”

“Morgan,” Liam greeted her. “Aiden can help you.”

“Yes, he can.” She sauntered toward the table, and something about her movements reminded Liam of a barracuda.

“Doctor Ross,” Aiden’s face was redder than before, “do you uhh see your garment?”

Morgan leaned over and skimmed her fingers lightly over the items. “Here it is.” She held up a shimmery gold bra.

“Good, good.” Aiden pushed the paper forward, “just put the description right here.”

“Description?”

“The, the color and size,” Aiden explained.

“Oh,” her smile turned predatory, “okay. Will gold, 36D work?”

“That’s fine.”

Liam took pity on his cousin and stepped closer. “Is that all, Morgan?”

Morgan’s blue eyes flashed. “For now.” She turned her attention back to Aiden. “I’ll see you at work.”

“Right,” Aiden murmured. “Have a good evening, Doctor Ross.”

“Is she always like that around you?” Liam asked Aiden as soon as she’d left.

“Like what?” Aiden frowned.

“Flirty, giving you the come-hither eyes, showing off her assets,” Liam listed a few of her behaviors.

Aiden shrugged. “I guess.”

“Boy, Cuz,” Liam shook his head, “we really do have work to do.”

“We do.” Aiden pulled out his phone. “I heard from Rosalind. What should I say?”

Liam looked over Aiden’s shoulder at the message from his secret match.

Dear Clark,

In all the years Swan Harbor has been holding the Christmas Tree lighting ceremony, I’ve never seen such a sight. Imagine the thought processes that had to go through someone’s mind to plan and implement such a feat. I heard last year, the snowman family in front of Sally’s was decorated, but this year, someone went above and beyond. What about you? Did anything stand out to you tonight?

Your Secret Match,

Rosalind

“What should I say?” Aiden asked.

“She’s digging.” Liam read through a couple of lines again. “Plus, she’s telling you a few things about her.”

Aiden took the phone back and reread the message. “What’s she telling me?”

“That she looked beyond the fact that the tree lighting had numerous undergarments on it,” Liam patiently explained. “And she’s impressed by the ingenuity behind the act.”

“I guess,” Aiden muttered. “But what should I say?”

“Just answer her question,” Liam encouraged. “She gave you a simple one.”

“Answer her question, you say?” Aiden murmured. “Alright, how’s this?”

Dear Rosalind ….

TWO

Swan Harbor University

December 2

9:00 a.m.

Harper arrived at her campus office early after a restless night. To the casual observer, she was focused on grading exams. However, her subconscious was breaking down her latest ‘secret match’ message. The words written by her ‘Clark’ wouldn’t connect with the man she knew as Logan Clark.

Dear Rosalind,

Thank you for your message. What stands out in my memory from last night is the look on the children’s faces as they gazed up at the tall tree. There was something about that scene that reminded me of holidays long ago.

He noticed the families? That hadn’t been what she’d expected.

And later in his message,

Perhaps, like last year, there will be no more incidents. But I must say the coordination to pull off such an event makes me quite envious.

She too had been impressed by how someone had taken so many bras without anyone noticing. They not only took them but hung them on the tree in a very specific manner. Something that would have taken stealth. It was also a detail that didn’t fit her image of Logan.

By the time she’d finished grading, Harper had mentally reworked the words multiple times. They still didn’t connect, though. Which had her feeling as if she’d put together a jigsaw puzzle that had extra pieces. Almost as if she were being led to a new puzzle and being fed the parts a little at a time.

Her thought processes died when Logan sauntered into her office, his patented smirk firmly in place. “Good morning, Doctor Taylor. You’re looking quite lovely today.”

Harper glanced down at the outfit she’d tugged from her closet while half asleep. A gray skirt, a pink sweater, and knee-high black boots. Her brown hair was pulled back into a low bun, and because she hadn’t slept well, she’d worn glasses. Lovely wasn’t an adjective that fit … cute maybe.

“Thank you,” she replied with a tight smile.

“Did you have a good time last night?” He planted himself in a chair in front of her desk.

“It was,” humiliating, embarrassing, “typical Swan Harbor. What about you?”

Logan laughed. “I thought the mayor was going to faint when she flipped the switch, and those bras were on display for everyone to see. Just glad it wasn’t jocks. The tree wouldn’t have been quite so colorful.”

And there it was, she thought. The answers she’d expected from him.

“Makes you wonder if the thieves are males,” she quipped.

He reared back in surprise. “Why would you say that?”

Harper shrugged, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. “Just makes sense.” Her attention wavered just enough for her focus to move to the study guides she’d picked up earlier. “Oh no, these aren’t mine.”

Logan uncrossed his legs and sat forward. “What are you talking about?”

“I need to go.” Harper hurriedly stacked the tests she’d graded and grabbed the box. “They gave me the wrong study guides.”

“But,” Logan sputtered, obviously not used to being thrown out of someone’s office. “I wanted to ask …”

“I’ll see you later.” She rushed from the office, pulled the door shut, and ran down the stairs to the copy center.

“Hi Harper,” Jami greeted her when she entered. “I didn’t expect you back so quickly.”

“I picked up the wrong study guides.” Harper pushed the box across the counter. “These are Intro to Diversity. I need Intro to Teaching. And I have a meeting that starts in fifteen minutes.”

“Let me get the right one for you.” Jami took the box, and in what seemed like no time, located the right one. “Here you go. The copies of your exams are in there too.”

“Thanks, Jami. You’re a lifesaver.” Harper grabbed the box, and, on her way out, crashed into the person entering. “Watch it!” she cried, as the box fell from her arms.

“Bloody hell!”

The curse uttered by a smooth British accent slithered up her spine, and she had to admit there was merit to Rachel’s comment. Because up close and personal, ooh la la definitely described his voice. An attribute she hadn’t considered every other time she’d spoken to him.

“Uh, sorry, Doctor Taylor.” Aiden haphazardly shoved the papers back into the box. “I shouldn’t have just barreled through the door like that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Harper insisted. “I wasn’t paying attention and well …”

He looked up from where he was still shoving her papers back into the box, and she had the strangest desire to right his crooked glasses. I’m sorry she read in his eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she reiterated.

Aiden ducked his head and stood holding her box. “Are you really alright?”

“I’m fine,” she told him breathlessly. “You?”

“Fine.” He bobbed his head a couple of times and finally pushed his glasses back into place.

He was back to his awkward self, and Harper couldn’t help but wonder where the man who’d winked at her last night had gone. The man in front of her reminded her of … just who exactly, though, eluded her.

“Glad you’re okay.” She started out the door. “I’m off to a meeting.”

But as she slid into a chair in the back of the auditorium, her encounter with Aiden was still on her mind. There’d been something different, almost as if ….

“Isn’t this exciting?” a woman on her right asked, scattering her thoughts. “Are you enjoying your matches?”

“I have,” Harper responded quietly, unsure if she wanted to say more.

“You know,” the woman went on. “I really liked my first match, but there’s something about this one …”

Harper thought back on her three matches. Could she separate Orlando, Rhett, and Clark in her head? Orlando and Rhett’s messages had been short but sweet, as if they were shy. Clark’s messages just confused her. But she didn’t know if it was because of what he said or because she was trying to push the words into the wrong person’s mouth.

“Is this seat taken?” Aiden whispered.

“Aiden! Doctor Jones,” Harper immediately corrected. “No, uhh, no, go ahead.”

He slipped into the chair with a sigh, and she couldn’t help but note he was more disheveled than usual. Something she hadn’t noticed when she’d run into him earlier. His wavy hair was sticking up at odd angles, his dark beard was heavier, and there was a wet spot on his tie as if he’d spilled something and tried to wash it off. Was he having one of those days too?

* * *

Aiden took a deep breath, and the light floral scent of Harper’s perfume settled around him. He’d been experiencing one of those days. His toe still ached from where the box holding her exams had landed on it. The mark on his cheek had prevented him from shaving. And he’d had to wash jelly off his tie. Suddenly, those things didn’t seem to matter, though.

“Good morning,” Beau Johnson, a Computer Science professor, greeted the room. “Thank you for coming. Let me go over the guidelines for this research project once again.”

The project was a joint venture by the computer science, psychology, and sociology departments. They were researching the formation of emotional connections. Participants answered survey questions, chose an alias, then were matched with a partner. Once the correspondence with one partner was completed, they were surveyed again. They were currently on the third and final pairing.

“I can’t believe I need to say this,” Beau went on. “But please don’t share your ‘match name’ or the ‘name’ of your match. If you know personally whom you’re corresponding with, it invalidates your data.”

“Bloody idiots,” Aiden murmured.

A snicker from his right had him glancing in that direction. When his eyes met Harper’s, there was a teasing glint in hers that had him catching his breath.

I agree, they seemed to say.

His heart raced as the thought, of what just happened, filtered through his mind. He’d seen silent communication in action before. Quite recently in fact, between his newfound family members and their significant others. It was something he’d even achieved a time or two between him and his siblings. But the idea that silent communication was possible between him and someone of the opposite sex … had never occurred to him. Suddenly, though, it had happened several times … and with the same person.

“Unfortunately,” Beau was saying when Aiden tuned back in, “there was a problem with the processing during the last match. I’m going to let Hayden Patterson, the student in charge, explain.”

Aiden glanced at Harper, as the young man who was speaking shared a last name with her grandmother.

“My cousin,” she whispered as if she’d heard his unspoken question.

“As Professor Johnson mentioned,” Hayden explained, “there was a glitch in the program. Instead of using your ‘character name’, some matches used real names. We’re going to give you options,” he went on. “You can continue as you are without knowing. Or you can find out if it happened and be given a new match.”

Since Aiden didn’t feel the need to find out, he decided to leave, jostling Harper just as she was standing. Her laughing eyes met his. “Two times in one day, Doctor Jones. That must be a record.”

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and once again, he wished for some of Liam’s self-confidence. “I’m, I’m sorry, Har - Doctor Taylor. I’m such a klutz.”

Her tinkling laughter whispered across his skin, stealing the embarrassment he’d typically feel. “Don’t be silly. It was an accident. If you’ll excuse me.” She waved goodbye and headed toward the front of the room.

Aiden watched Harper as she went forward, greeting those she knew along the way. Oh, to have some of that comfort around strangers, he thought, not for the first time. But before he could escape to the quiet of his office, the overpowering scent of perfume surrounded him, and there was nowhere to hide.

“Doctor Jones.” Morgan Ross plastered her well-endowed body against his side. “Were all the bras claimed?”

“Not uh,” his thoughts scattered, as he worked to come up with a way to put some distance between them. “There were a few left behind,” he dropped the calendar he was holding. “Uhh, sorry. I’ve been a bit out of sorts today.

She sent him an indulgent smile. “Anything I can do?”

“No, no.” Aiden cleared his throat and dug inside, to pull out the manners his mum had established. “I’ll be fine as soon as I get a cup of coffee.”

“Oh?” Morgan’s brows arched playfully. “I can help with that.”

“I’ll be fine.” Aiden waved toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

“What’s your hurry, Aiden?” Morgan smiled, and there was something about her behavior that reminded him of Curley’s predatory wife in Of Mice and Men. Look what happened to her, though.

“Class,” Aiden lied. “I need to prepare.”

“Now, now,” she ran one long red fingernail down his tie, “I’ve heard you’re always prepared for class. Besides …”

She let that hang in the air for several heartbeats, and Aiden found himself looking around for help.

“I was thinking,” Morgan went on, “since you’re new in town and all …”

Aiden spotted Harper heading back toward him and sent her a silent plea. Except, she was staring at her phone, making him think, more than likely, it flew over her head.

“… That I’d allow you take me to the Christmas Gala,” Morgan finally got to the point.

“The Christmas Gala?”

“Yes,” Morgan gushed. “It’s the event of the season. The place to see and be seen.”

“I thought that was Sally’s,” Aiden responded, knowing the diner was a hotbed of gossip.

“Oh, well,” Morgan hesitated as if she weren’t sure what to say next. “Sally’s is the place for everyday happenings, but for something special, it’s the Christmas Gala.”

Aiden hadn’t even considered attending the Gala, as large events like that made him uncomfortable. Especially when he was the odd man out, as he’d told Liam when he’d mentioned it. And yet, last night, Mrs. Patterson had mentioned his asking Harper, and now Morgan was ….

“Doctor Ross⁠—”

“Morgan,” she interrupted.

He cleared his throat and tried again, “Morgan, while I⁠—”

“You can’t tell me no,” she gushed. “I even bought this divine green satin dress that fits me like a second skin.”

“Uhh, well.” Aiden could feel the heat climbing up his neck and had to fight not to loosen his tie. “I’m sure you’ll look very nice in your dress, but …”

“Okay, I’m ready.” Harper looped her arm through his, causing his breath to lodge in his throat. “Are you?”

“Wait,” Morgan demanded. “What’s going on?”

Aiden sent Harper a look, just as confused as Morgan, “We …”

I’ve got this, Harper’s eyes seemed to say.

“You were talking about the Gala, right?” Harper raised a brow in question.

“Well—” Aiden began.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Morgan butted in, “but yes. Aiden was just telling me what time he’d pick me up.”

Aiden sent Harper a panicked message, That’s not true.

I know, she smiled, and for a brief moment, he was lost in the warmth of her eyes.

“Aiden,” Harper squeezed his arm, “is taking me to the Gala. Three might be a crowd.”

Morgan turned her frosty blue eyes on him, and Aiden had to fight to meet her gaze head-on. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I—”

“That’s my fault, I’m afraid,” Harper jumped in. “I just told him I’d go with him this morning, and well,” she shrugged delicately as if it was a nonissue.

“I’m sorry, Morgan,” Aiden apologized. “As I mentioned, it’s been one of those days.”

“Yes, well,” Morgan sighed. “Save me a dance, will you?” Then, with a wink, she flounced off.

As they walked from the auditorium, Aiden thanked Harper for coming to his rescue. “But please, don’t feel obligated to …”

“Harper, there you are.”

Aiden looked around to see Logan Clark rushing in their direction. When he glanced back at Harper, she appeared just as ill at ease as she had the previous night.

“I’m right here,” Harper retorted, but there was something in her voice that had Aiden wanting to rescue. “What did you need, Logan?”

Logan glanced at Aiden before effectively dismissing him, and once again, turning back to Harper. “I wanted to ask you to the Gala.”

I helped you, Aiden could have sworn he read in her eyes.

Something had him winking at her as if to say, I’m here for you.

“Harper was gracious enough to accept my invitation to the Gala,” Aiden broke in, sounding more confident than he was feeling.

“You?” Logan laughed. “You didn’t tell me you were dating her last night.”

“I didn’t? Well,” Aiden searched for what to say, “I’ve admired Doctor Taylor for a while and⁠—”

“—Our families set us up.” Harper sent him a look that said, play along.

“Your families?” Logan mumbled.

“Yes,” Aiden agreed, even though he had no clue where to take the story.

“My grandmother is friends with Ava, who is⁠—”

“—My uncle’s wife,” Aiden completed the story, as where Harper was going finally clicked.

“Oh,” Logan murmured. “I see.”

“I need to go,” Harper broke in. “Class.”

She walked away, and something about the territorial way Logan followed her movements set Aiden’s teeth on edge. “If you’re looking for a date, I heard Morgan Ross was available.”

“Morgan?” Logan sent him a ‘what did you just say,’ look.

“Yes, Morgan,” Aiden repeated, thinking she was more Logan’s type. “I’ve got a meeting.”

* * *

Sheriff’s Department

December 2

2:00 p.m.

Killian glanced up from his notes when the Sheriff, Dylan Prince, entered his office and tossed two folders on his desk.

“Tell me again why the Sheriff’s department is handling this and not Chief Fowler and his men in blue.”

Dylan winced. “Politics passed down through time.”

“What the bloody hell does that mean?”

“It means we have a bigger budget,” Dylan explained. “What’s wrong, Killian? Don’t think you’re up to the task?”

“You know what you can do with that task.” Killian flipped the folders around. “What are these?”

“Remember last year when Sally’s underwear ended up on the snowman,” Dylan began. “And I told you I thought it had happened before?”

“Aye.”

“When there’s been time,” Dylan went on, “Amy’s been searching the archives and …”

“She found a connection,” Killian replied, thinking it was lucky they had such an organized office clerk.

“Not exactly,” Dylan hedged.

Killian studied his boss for several minutes before opening the first file to read.

On December 1st, 1980, the Christmas tree in the town square was found to be decorated with multiple colorful bras. The brassieres were removed, and as questioning began, it was discovered ….

“That’s it?” Killian looked up at Dylan with a frown.

“Yeah.” Dylan flipped the folder around and pointed to the date. “My grandfather, James Prince, was the Sheriff at that time. Maybe Walt will have an idea, as he would have been new on the job.”

Killian jotted a few notes to speak to the night dispatcher and reached for the second file. “Is this any better?”

“Not much,” Dylan admitted. “But the second time occurred after my dad became Sheriff.”

“Indoctrinating the new Sheriff?” Killian tossed out.

“But who?” Dylan frowned.

“Fowler?” Killian offered, even though he couldn’t give a specific reason.

“Makes no sense,” Dylan argued. “He would have been new on the force in 1980.”

“What does your gut say?”

Dylan shook his head. “I know you don’t like Fowler, but I don’t see his prints on this one.”

“Why?”

“It’s too blatant,” Dylan shrugged.

“So, we’re back to what I thought last year,” Killian opened the second folder, “kids.”

“Maybe,” Dylan acquiesced.

The second folder didn’t offer much more information,

December 1, 2000

When the Christmas Tree in the town square was lit up, there were multiple brassieres dangling from the branches. The bras ranged from size 34B to 44DD and included a variety of colors. Of the thirty garments on the tree, all but 5 have been claimed.

“That’s interesting.”

“What?”

Killian sorted through the notes he’d made and reached for the box on the floor next to his desk. “There were more than thirty garments hanging on the tree, but all but 5 were claimed.”

Dylan whistled. “That is weird. Does it say any more regarding the old case?”

“Ernie Luka was the investigator in charge.” Killian flipped through the rest of the file before turning it around for Dylan and pointing at the pages. “Tell me your thoughts.”

“I looked at it already,” Dylan pushed back. “What are you asking specifically?”

“Check the page sequences.”

Dylan glanced through the chart once and then repeated the process. “I’ll be damned. Much of the chart is missing…”

“And,” Killian added, “if the bits and pieces in there are to be believed. There are more briefs to be dug into.”

“That was bad,” Dylan laughed.

“I work with what I have,” Killian smirked. “Do you know Luka?”

“Luka lives in one of the retirement centers. Check with Amy.”

Killian heard Dylan greet his partner as Rusty entered their office.“Check with Amy about what?”

“Luka’s contact information,” Killian told him. “He was the investigator during the last bra raid.”

“Did he find out who the thief was?”

“That part of the file is missing.” Killian opened the folder and flipped through the pages again. “Most of the notes have been removed.”

Rusty frowned, then spread the notes in front of him. “Bras on the tree on December 1. Something on December 4 as it says - dozens were seen hanging …”

“But what ‘were hanging’ and where?”

“And on December 12,” Rusty read on, “skivvies were flying …”

“Skivvies were flying?” Killian repeated. “Flying off, flying on …. What the bloody hell does that mean?”

“No idea,” Rusty murmured. “But then it says, ‘December 26, the culprits were discovered when -’ and that’s it.”

“December 1 happened just as it did in 1980 and in 2000. What’s happening on December 4th? Anything?”

Rusty shrugged. “I don’t know the dates, but the annual festivities include the gingerbread house making at Sally’s, a cookie exchange at our home, and the Gala at the Lighthouse Inn.”

Killian sent his partner a disgruntled look. “Which means any and all are fair game.”

“Keeps us on our toes,” grinned Rusty.

“As long as they stay away from my house,” murmured Killian, adding Rusty’s notes to his.

“Well, considering someone took thirty bras, hung them on the Christmas tree in the middle of town, and hasn’t been caught,” Rusty sighed. “I think we have our work cut out for us.”

“So, what you’re saying is to slow down and not get ants in my pants,” Killian quipped.

“That’s right,” Rusty snickered. “Best to not be caught with your pants down in this situation. We wouldn’t want to let anything slip through our fingers.”

THREE

Swan Harbor University

December 3

11:00 a.m.

Harper watched the clock tick down the last few minutes, which would signal the end of the last test of the semester before final exams. Then her forty students would put down their pens, and forty pairs of eyes would meet hers, some resigned, some elated, most unsure. Once scores had been posted, her office would be inundated with students with questions about their grades. With that done, they just had semester exams before the holidays. Then, in January, it would start all over again. Such was the life of a professor, and she loved it.

“Time,” she called. “Please turn your papers over and pass them to your left.” Harper moved down the aisle collecting the tests, and as the pile grew heavy, wondered whose idea it was to give an essay exam so late in the semester.

Yours, you idiot.

“Remember,” Harper said after she’d gathered all the papers. “Your final is next Wednesday at 11:00 a.m. If you have any questions, come by my office, or send me an email. I’ll see you then.”

One or two students waved, a few others smiled, and as they filed out, she couldn’t help but make a few guesses as to which ones would remain education majors through all four years. But, her job wasn’t to worry about the students who dropped the class. Her job was to make sure those who stayed got what they paid for - or what their parents paid for, anyway. Except that sounded cynical, which wasn’t like her at all. Thanks, Joel.

“Doctor Taylor,” Mia Spruce, one of the quieter students in the class, approached. “This was attached to my exam. I’m not sure if it’s important or not …”

Harper spared the page a brief glance before giving her attention back to Mia. “Thanks for this. How do you feel about the exam?”

Mia’s face turned red, just as it did every time she was called on. The fact the student was uncomfortable in that type of situation had Harper wondering how she would handle student teaching.

“I, I think I did okay.”

“That’s good to hear. Any questions regarding the final?”

“No,” Mia denied. “I’m good. I’ll see you later, Doctor Taylor.”

Harper watched Mia leave, then glanced back at the errant page.

“As You Like It is a play where characters pretend to be someone other than themselves. To what degree are the characters aware of their role-playing? Choose two characters and discuss their role in the play and whether or not their acting has serious consequences or if it’s merely a game.”

Where did …?

Before the thought had completely coalesced, a scene from the day before replayed in her head. She’d been on her way out of the copy center and had run into Aiden and dropped the box she’d been holding. While she’d stood there like an idiot, he’d shoved all the papers back into the box.

She’d been thinking about how Rachel had been right in describing his British accent as ooh la la. When he spoke and his tongue curled around the syllables, she’d felt ….

He makes you feel. That’s no small feat after what Joel put you through.

When he’d looked up, she’d had to fight not to right his glasses. In addition, the way she seemed to read his thoughts, as he seemed to read hers, was something she’d been looking for her entire life.

Except, did he feel pressured to take her to the Gala? Had he saved her from needing to make excuses to Logan only because she had saved him from Morgan? His help me plea had come through loud and clear. But should she offer him an out? After all, just as they’d been leaving the auditorium, he’d started to say, ‘Don’t feel obligated.’

Harper took the stairs to her office on the fourth floor and sat down to grade the exams. She made it through three of them before her attention wandered to the paper Mia had given her. Should she drop by his office and, just as a courtesy, offer him an out?

Before she could second guess her decision, she crammed the exams into her briefcase to deal with later. Aiden’s office was located on the second floor of her building, and as she approached his door, her steps slowed.

Why was that? Was there a part of her that wanted to go to the Gala with him?

He makes me feel … like I need to fill the empty spaces.

Except, Rachel was right. Aiden did make her feel.

There’s Clark, zipped through her head when a notification from the match app appeared.

But now, Aiden. She took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock. Just before her knuckles connected, his phone rang.

“Sarah,” Aiden exclaimed, his voice sounding more animated than she’d ever heard. “I’m so glad you called me back. What took so long?”

Sarah?

“You what?”

Aiden chuckled, and the husky tenor of his voice had a … dare she say … a shiver racing up her spine.

“Are you going to make it for Christmas?”

At his question, Harper backed up slowly and, almost as if in a fog, looked around for the stairs.

Since he’d winked at her at the tree lighting, her thoughts and feelings had been pinging all over the place. What was going on?

* * *

Captain Jack’s Home

December 3

5:00 p.m.

“Aiden, my boy,” Captain Jack exclaimed when he opened his front door. “Come in, come in. It’s quite blustery out there.”

“I hope I’m not keeping you from anything,” Aiden began. “But I spoke to Sarah⁠—”

“—And she’s learned some more about our Ian Jones,” Captain Jack assumed.

“My sister’s like a dog with a bone when she’s on the hunt.”

“Is that your way of saying she’s stubborn?”

“Just a wee bit.”

Jack’s led him into the back room where a roaring fire and soft music greeted them.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea - a hot toddy?”

“A spot of tea would be lovely.”

While Jack was making their refreshments, Aiden took out his notebook and glanced through his notes.

Sarah had learned their ancestor, the pirate Ian Jones, wasn’t as well-known as Edward Teach or Bartholomew Roberts. However, he’d sailed the seas around the same time. Since finding that he’d landed - and loved - in Swan Harbor over three-hundred years ago, there was a spark deep inside guiding Aiden in a way he hadn’t expected. Had it been there when his brother brought him the information about the ship? Or had it been the discovery of Ian’s and Hope’s journals? Or was it his conversation with Jack?

He heard Jack cross the room to stand next to him. “I think Ian and Hope have a story that needs to be told.”

“Think so?” Aiden glanced at the older man. “If you were writing it, where would you start?”

Jack grinned. “Where every good romance begins,” he chuckled, “with the first meet.”

“Have you read the journals?” Aiden flipped the book around and turned to the first page.

“I,” Jack hesitated for several seconds, “looked through a few pages, but then pushed them away.”

“Why?” Aiden studied the other man. “You looked for it for years. Why not continue learning everything you can about the man, the woman, and the ship?”

Jack turned back around, wearing a contemplative expression. “I don’t believe Ian and Hope’s story is for me to tell.”

“You think it’s Killian and Emma’s,” Aiden repeated what he’d heard at Thanksgiving.

“Perhaps.” Jack inclined his head. “But this is Swan Harbor, Son. Something tells me, as a Jones, you’ll have a part in the end of their story too.”

“Really?” Aiden frowned. “Isn’t their story over?”

“Great love stories are never over.” Captain Jack winked. “If they were, there would be no happily-ever-after, now would there?”

“Like Rosalind and Orlando, Jane and Rochester, Catherine and Heathcliff, or Elizabeth and Darcy,” Aiden rattled off great pairings from the literature he so dearly loved.

“Yes,” Jack smiled as if the point he’d been trying to make had been received. “Lovers that continue to live between the pages years later. Someday that will be Ian and Hope.”

“Except their ending was more Romeo and Juliet,” Aiden muttered.

“I prefer to believe they’ll be reunited like Vega and Altair,” Jack confessed.

“Reunited one day in the stars?” Aiden questioned, referring to the myth.

“But I’m hopeful they’ll be together more than just one day a year.”

Was that conversation what was driving him? Or was it his love of a good story and the need to see Ian and Hope reunited in the stars? Or was it something else …?

“Here you are.” Jack set a tray with cups and a plate of cookies on the table in front of him. “While you’re at it, have one of Terri’s peanut butter cookies. They hit the spot.”

The mention of Harper’s grandmother reminded him of the story they’d spun for Logan. Of the fact, that her family seemed to be intricately woven around Jack’s family — which now included his family.

“Now, tell me what your sister’s tenacity has uncovered,” Jack continued once he was seated. “Do we know anything more than we did?”

Aiden set his cup aside and opened his notebook. “Before I tell you what Sarah found, I want you to know I decided not to read any more of Ian’s journal.”

“Really?” Jack sent him a surprised look. “I would have thought you would have read both journals from cover to cover.”

He wasn’t sure how to explain the feelings that had washed over him when he’d tried. “I’d planned to,” Aiden admitted. “But when I opened to the first page, it felt … well, wrong.”

“Like you were reading a letter that was meant for another,” Jack offered.

Aiden searched for a better explanation. “It’s as you said. Ian and Hope have a story that needs to be told, and I do feel guided to do my part, but …”

“Reading Ian and Hope’s words didn’t feel right.”

“No.” Aiden took a sip of tea and watched the flames dance around for several minutes before admitting, “But it makes no sense why I feel this way.”

Captain Jack chuckled. “And you think I haven’t thought the same thing for years when I tried to tell people Jonesy and Swan Harbor’s hope were connected?”

“Do you really believe that?” Aiden asked, watching Jack’s expressions for any sign he was speaking an untruth.

“I believe there’s a connection between Swan Harbor and Jonesy,” Jack offered, without really answering the question. “Now, tell me about Sarah’s discovery.”

“She found an old family bible,” Aiden responded, the excitement he’d felt upon learning the news bubbling inside. “Ian was born in May 1690 and died in July 1722.”

“He went back to England and died of a broken heart,” Jack murmured.

“You think?” Aiden murmured. “Maybe, but he was close to the average life expectancy for men at that time.”