{"id":255938,"date":"2026-07-13T14:25:13","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T11:25:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/christmas-return-bree-hollis-1\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T14:25:13","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T11:25:13","slug":"christmas-return-bree-hollis-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/christmas-return-bree-hollis-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Christmas Return – Bree Hollis (1)"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Garrett stood up. “Come by tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to some people. If you’re serious about staying, you need to be part of the community, not just Micah’s plus-one.” “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me yet.” He paused. “And Cooper? We’re watching. Don’t make us regret giving you a chance.” I sat alone as The Perch filled with morning customers. Pulled out my leather notebook and started writing.<\/p>\n

Not case notes. Just observations. A to do list: Find somewhere to stay (Asher’s place) Look into local legal needs Learn how to actually be part of a community Prove to Micah I can be someone worth trusting Don’t fuck this up The door chimed again, and I looked up to see Micah walk in. My breath caught. He looked tired but more relaxed than yesterday. He was wearing a deep green sweater that made his eyes look warm. He moved to the counter with that easy confidence he’d gained, and for a moment I just watched him\u2014the way he belonged here, how naturally he fit into this community.<\/p>\n

He stopped when he saw me, something complicated crossing his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “Hey.” I closed my notebook. “I survived the inquisition.” “I heard. They texted me.” He ordered his usual\u2014Garrett didn’t even have to ask\u2014and then, after a moment’s hesitation, joined me at the table. We sat in charged silence, the morning bustle of The Perch flowing around us. “Are you really staying?” he asked quietly. “I think so. At least for a while.<\/p>\n

Your friends convinced me I should try being part of the community.” “Garrett mentioned the apartment above the flower shop?” “He did. Is that okay?” “Yeah, it’s… it’s good. You’ll be close to everything.” He paused. “Close to people who can help you adjust.” “Micah\u2014” “There’s a thing tonight,” he cut in. “Community center. Holiday event planning committee. We’re organizing the Gingerbread competition. We need volunteers.” “You want me to volunteer?” “I want you to see what community actually means.<\/p>\n

Not just coffee shop conversations.” He met my eyes.<\/p>\n

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Copyright \u00a92025 by Bree Hollis All rights reserved. No part of this book can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author\u2019s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.<\/p>\n

1kitap1.com\/en Content Note The book includes intimate sexual scenes between consenting adult men and some strong language. This is a romance novel with a happy ending and is intended for adult readers. If you’d like more information about the content, feel free to reach out to the author at bree@breehollis.com 1kitap1.com\/en To anyone who’s ever had to go back and choose differently, and to the courage it takes to admit you were wrong all along.<\/p>\n

1kitap1.com\/en Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Author\u2019s Note About Bree 1kitap1.com\/en Chapter 1 Cooper I made it three storefronts past The Perch coffee shop before I had to stop and remind myself how to breathe. Main Street looked exactly how Micah had described it thirteen years ago, right down to the oversized wreaths hanging from old-fashioned lamp posts and the hand-painted signs promising fresh-cut Christmas trees at Reilly’s farm just outside town.<\/p>\n

I’d laughed when he’d waxed poetic about twinkling lights strung between buildings and how every shop window became a work of art during December. Called it “provincial charm” with just enough condescension to make him flinch. Now I was standing in the middle of it, snow crunching under my completely inadequate leather dress shoes, and it wasn’t quaint\u2014it was perfect. The drive from Denver had taken two hours through mountain passes that should have been terrifying in December, but honestly, I’d been too numb to care.<\/p>\n

Eighty-hour work weeks and three panic attacks in as many months had a way of making death-by-icy-road feel less frightening than walking back into that office. My therapist\u2014the one my firm had insisted I see after I’d missed an important filing deadline and spent forty minutes hyperventilating in the bathroom\u2014had suggested a “restorative break.” Somewhere quiet. Somewhere I could “reconnect with what matters.” I’d chosen Juniper Bluff. Not randomly. Never randomly. This was the home town Micah had talked about for four years of college with a reverence I’d found simultaneously endearing and frustrating.<\/p>\n

The town he’d planned to return to, to take over some dusty bookstore and waste his brilliant mind on small- town life. The town I’d called a trap. A dead end. A failure of ambition. Thirteen years later and I stood on Main Street, watching people greet each other by name as they ducked in and out of shops, and wondering what the hell I was doing.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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