Despite dreams to explore the world, I've never been anywhere other than this small harbor town. Single mom, local postmistress, and one-fourth owner of a failing auto repair shop are all the reasons I've remained planted where my roots began. Hideaway Harbor is layered in love for the holidays, enticing visitors to the coastal area for a seasonal respite, so thanks to an unpredicted blizzard, it's no surprise when a stranger plows into the town's welcome sign. What is a surprise is when he's suddenly-and rather reluctantly by me-an extended-stay guest in my home thanks to no vacancies in town, some pesky matchmaking, and candy cane martinis on a Monday. There's something vaguely familiar about this new visitor. The combination of snow and tinsel colored hair. The well-trimmed matching beard. The laugh lines near his coal-colored eyes. How good he looks in the color red. He's thoughtful and kind, and has a flair for the holiday season, which makes him most likely to make the top of Santa's good guy (with a hint of bad boy) list. After some disappointing news concerning the holidays, the hap, hap, happiest time of the year isn't feeling so spectacular. But my houseguest's presence builds a swirling, whirling sensation in my chest, making my Christmas wish be a transfer to the naughty list . . . with him. Unfortunately, there's a mystery behind his origins, and he has "not-staying" written all over him. With places to be before the calendar flips to December twenty-fourth, he'll soon be gone, and I've encountered this heartbreaking, lump-of-coal sensation once before. Still, I can't seem to deny the magic we make when we are together, which leaves me pondering if love is the greatest adventure we take. No matter how short or sweet, does love make life wonderful?