Free A Perfect Bride For Christmas by Dyann Love Barr

broccoli and oven fried potatoes.
    The girls were big fans of the ‘little green trees’ as they called broccoli, so it wasn’t a chore to get them to eat their vegetables, but they preferred the fries from McDonalds. Cookies were passed out, the movie UP watched, and baths taken before they were tucked into bed.
    “Mommy, who is Mr. King?” Macy peered up at
    her out of Alex’s blue eyes. They held the same challenge she’d seen in his when he cornered
    someone on the stand. “Is he your friend?”
    “He used to be.” She snugged the blanket closer to the precious body. “A long time ago.”
    “Is that why he looks like Mia and Michaela?”
    Zoe’s world tilted. A four-year-old could tell see the resemblance between her sisters and Alex—it was too much.
    “What makes you think that?” She glanced over
    at the other girls who were close to drifting off.
    “There are a lot of blue-eyed, dark haired men in the world. It doesn’t mean anything.”
    “Who is our daddy?”
    If the first revelation made Zoe’s breath hitch, the second took it away. It took a few seconds before she could speak. “Why would you ask that, baby?”
    “Michaela, Mia, and me, we heard Aunt Brenda
    say Daddy wasn’t our daddy.”
    “When?”
    “At the funnelal.”
    “Funeral. Aunt Brenda said that?”
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    A Perfect Bride for Christmas

    Macy nodded. “Is it true?”
    Zoe felt like killing Brenda Bennett. She meant it for the best, but who says something like that to a three-year-old? “You were only three. Maybe you heard wrong.”
    “Nope,” Michaela murmured. “Aunt Brenda
    acted funny, though. She smelled funny and laughed a lot. You’re not supposed to laugh at funnelals”
    Brenda Bennett had been drinking. That
    explained a lot.
    Zoe found a weak smile. “Don’t worry about
    Aunt Brenda. She doesn’t know everything, even if she thinks she does. Now go to sleep.”
    “Night, Mommy,” Mia sighed, half-asleep.
    Kisses and hugs finished the conversation. Zoe
    turned off the lights and leaned back against the door. What was she going to do? The girls were
    asking about their parentage, with Alex hot on their heels with questions of his own.
    Then there was the kiss. She had to be out of
    her mind to allow herself the indulgence of kissing him back, to forget the past. All the old needs and wants came rushing back in a heartbeat. His kiss melted her like chocolate under heat.
    Zoe licked her lips, trying to recreate the
    sensations, but it was a poor substitute. She could still taste him on her mouth. Madness lay there, waiting to draw her down into depression again.
    Depression meant eating, and she refused to go
    down that road. Not for Alex, not for any man.
    Besides, Alex already had a woman. She
    shouldn’t be surprised he slipped back into old habits. When would she learn? Her drug of choice had Alex’s name all over it.
    Zoe went downstairs to the kitchen, trying to
    decide between a cup of coffee or a sharp knife.
    Cherri beat her to brewing a fresh pot.
    “Good, you took the decision out of my hands.”
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    Dyann Love Barr

    The dark, enticing aroma filled the kitchen as she poured herself a cup, adding a large dollop of half-and-half. The first sip calmed her jangled nerves.
    “This is exactly what I needed. You just saved me from slitting my wrists.”
    Cherri raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought
    I’d just made coffee. Maybe I need a raise.”
    “All the chicks have come home to roost—right
    over my head.”
    “Ah, that must be the mysterious Mr. King.”
    Cherri added a couple of sugar cubes to her coffee. “I noticed the resemblance.”
    Zoe frowned. “Did you say anything to the girls?
    They’re asking a lot of questions.” She hadn’t meant to sound accusatory, but it came out that way.
    A blush rose over Cherri’s coffee-colored skin, her dark eyes flashed. “Even if I think what I think, I would never tell the girls. You should know that.”
    She got up from the table and dumped