LITMIR.BIZ

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      “WHAT DO YOU THINK of a sheer peekaboo red nightie with white fur trim paired with over-the-knee patent boots?”

      Cringing, Jade Carson shook her head so hard she almost dumped a whole spoonful of red sugar on cookie Santa’s jolly face.

      “I think those are three things that should never go together, Beryl,” Jade told her younger sister decisively. “It’s like mixing beer, chocolate truffles and mashed potatoes. They’re all fine on their own, but together they’re every kind of wrong.”

      “Ew,” her eldest sister, Ruby, said in agreement.

      “What’s wrong with beer and mashed potatoes?” Beryl asked. “I mean, I wouldn’t have the truffle at the same time, but maybe afterward for dessert?”

      “Are you sure we’re related?” Jade asked Beryl, shifting her focus from lining the chocolate jimmies around Santa’s boots to peer at her sister.

      A silly question.

      Nobody peeking through the greenery-festooned garden window could take them as anything but siblings. Any of the Carson sisters could have graced the top of the Christmas tree, with their flaxen hair, wide green eyes and dimples. But when it came to personalities, they were as different as their hairstyles.

      A CPA, Ruby was labeled the smart sister. Her hair was as practical as she was. She wore a sleek pageboy long enough to be pulled back for exercise or tax season, both of which she claimed kept her in prime shape. Beryl was deemed the sweet sister by the good people of Diablo Glen. Her blond curls waved to her shoulder blades. The romantic look, combined with her soft heart and slightly ditzy personality, gave her a fragile air.

      The creative sister, Jade was neither practical nor fragile. Her hair was long, edgy and razor straight with low-swept bangs sassy enough to counteract her dimples. Her style was more rock-star than small-town, and she often said that her attitude was her best accessory.

      “You are the one with the degree in fashion,” Ruby pointed out, just this side of snickering. “Why don’t you explain to her why the style doesn’t work.”

      That was the thing about fashion, though. It was all subjective. What made one person feel fabulous would make another cringe, and yet another feel as if they were dressed in an alien costume. And though most people would cry foul over tennis shoes, a tank top and a tuxedo together, she’d seen it pulled off with panache. Fashion always depended on the person, and whether they had the attitude to pull the look off or not.

      “Maybe I’m just a prude when it comes to my sisters,” Jade muttered, shrugging away her odd discomfort. She, herself, didn’t know why the idea of Beryl dressing as a slutty Santa for her fiancé was so cringeworthy. So there was no way she could explain it to her sisters.

      “Right,” Ruby agreed as she slid the spatula under a chocolate reindeer to transfer it from the baking sheet to the cooling rack. “Except you were the one who threw my lingerie-themed bridal shower four years ago. And you helped me get ready for my wedding night, remember?”

      “Didn’t Jade buy you that black satin merry widow with red lace trim?” Beryl asked.

      “She did. She also showed me how to adjust it so my boobs looked their perky best,” Ruby acknowledged. She wiggled her brows at Jade and tossed a melting chocolate chip into her mouth before adding, “Ross appreciated your artistry, by the way. Anytime you want to work your magic again, feel free.”

      Jade grinned.

      “That is just so sweet,” Beryl said with a happy sigh, licking peppermint frosting off her knuckle before rinsing the bowl in the wide country sink. “Four years married, and you and Ross are still all googly over each other.”

      “Googly and giddy,” Jade agreed, just as thrilled as Beryl over that fact. She loved seeing that happy-ever-after was actually possible.

      The sisters had lost their dad five years ago. Their mother, who was diagnosed soon afterward with multiple sclerosis, had taken his death really hard. As they did with everything, the girls had found a way to share the care of their mother while keeping her life as normal as possible. As Opal’s MS progressed, Ruby had taken on her mother’s finances and responsibility for the general upkeep of everything. Beryl chose a local college so she could live at home, always there to help with her mom’s needs. And Jade, after her dreams of turning her fashion degree into an awesome, exciting career in a big city went kaput, had returned to Diablo Glen, moved into a cottage near the family home and taken a job at the library where Opal was head librarian.

      “That’s what I’ll have with Neal,” Beryl predicted. “Years and years of googliness.”

      Jade’s smile dimmed. She didn’t know why. Instead of commenting, she dropped her gaze to the tray of sugar cookies, as if messing up the decorations meant the end of Christmas as they knew it. There was nothing wrong with Neal. Maybe he was a little boring, and not quite the type Jade would have picked for her flighty sister. But he was a nice enough guy who earned a decent living and most of all, he treated Beryl like a princess.

      A princess he planned to make his queen in the new year, and haul off to a castle of her own.

      Beryl, like Ruby, would be married. Off living her own life. And like Ruby, who’d moved to Santa Clara for better job opportunities, Beryl would likely be fleeing the Diablo Glen nest, too. Neal was already talking about where he wanted to go. Leaving Jade trapped in this small town, with the full responsibility for their mother’s care falling on her shoulders.

      And on top of it all, Beryl would be getting regular sex.

      Which was probably the part Jade was most jealous of.

      And didn’t that make her quite the ultra bitch. Horny ultra bitch, she corrected. A sad, sad combination.

      “You need googliness too, Jade. But you’re so picky,” Beryl decided, her voice muffled because she had her head inside the refrigerator.

      Jade frowned. Was that any better than horny ultra bitch? Instead of denying it, she made a humming sound that could be agreement. Or “Jingle Bells.”

      “Oh, I know,” Beryl exclaimed excitedly. The younger woman bumped the fridge door shut with her hip, then set the batch of cream-cheese cookie dough on the counter for the next round of treats and gave an excited clap of her hands. “I’ll have Neal set you up with someone. He’s got a huge family, with people always in and out of their house. He has a whole slew of cousins visiting for the holidays, even. I’m sure he can find a great date for you. What do you think? Maybe we can double this weekend?”

      “God, no!” Shock and horror sped through Jade’s blood at equal speed. A blind date, set up by her little sister’s boyfriend? Why not just force her to parade through town naked, wearing ugly discount-store shoes? That sounded a little more fun and much less humiliating.

      “Why not? It’d be fun.”

      “I’m not interested in dating. And if I were, I definitely wouldn’t need my little sister’s boyfriend finding me a pity date.”

      “Fiancé, not boyfriend,” Beryl corrected, smiling softly as she tilted her hand from side to side so the diamond glinted. “And you should be interested in dating. It’s been four years since that jerk, Eric, ran off to join the circus. You’ve hardly dated, and when you did, nobody lasted more than a month. C’mon, Jade. Give it a chance.”

      Join the circus was her sisters’ disdainful dismissal of Jade’s fiancé ditching her at the altar to follow his dream of being a big-city attorney. She knew he figured he’d done her a favor by not making her choose between him and her responsibility to her family. So she tried not to be bitter.

      But being a good sister—and hey, a girl’s got the right to be a little bitter about losing her wedding night—she never bothered to correct their nasty comments about Eric. Why ruin the fun?

      “Don’t nag, Berry,” Ruby chided as she arranged the last of three

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