The Sweetest Gift - Scarlett Cole Page 0,44

your attention for a few minutes? My niece, Petal, and her dad and all her favorite uncles want to do a dance performance. Guys,” she said, “you just follow Petal.”

Trent looked around the room. Kendalee was pointing Elliott out to Holly who was clapping. Lexi had her arm wrapped around Trent’s mom, who stood next to Harper who was grinning. Gia held Arwen and laughed at something Lia had just said.

“What the fuck is this?” Cujo muttered.

Nik shrugged. “No clue, but I think Jenny just told the boys what we’re doing.” Trent looked over where Nik’s family were all grinning and clapping.

“Remember, timing.” Petal stood in front of them, feet apart, hands on hips.

Pixie burst out laughing.

“Fucking timing,” Dred muttered to Lennon behind Trent.

“Why am I on the front fucking row?” Trent muttered to nobody in particular. He turned and saw Jordan at the back of the dancefloor. “Isn’t Jordan your absolute favorite uncle?” he asked Petal. “Shouldn’t he be at the front?”

“He is my favorite, so I see him all the time. I like you on the front row, Uncle Trent, because Auntie Harper said you’d be the bestest dancer because you’ve got moves and you are my favorite Miami uncle.”

Trent looked over at Harper. “Moves?” he mouthed, even though his heart melted at being her favorite Miami uncle. It just made Harper laugh even harder.

It took three notes for him to realize what their little dance troupe was going to do.

“Fucking YMCA?” Trent said with a laugh as Petal swung her hips from left to right.

“Copy me,” she shouted, as she began to march up and down. Her arms periodically going up into the air and back down.

Fuck it. He might as well make a fool of himself. Everyone was on their feet. His wife was almost crying with laughter. Elliott shouted that Dred owed him a Gibson Citation guitar. Cujo was severely into it, with Drea cheering his name.

And shit. How long was the fucking verse? Surely there should have been a chorus by now.

Nik laughed as his boys joined in on the edge of the dance floor. Even Daniel was up dancing with Noah in his arms.

And then everyone burst into the actions.

And Petal laughed as she turned around and saw all the men who were important to her dancing in her troupe. Her curls swung as she jumped up and down making shapes that looked nothing like Y, M, C, or A.

But it didn’t matter, because people filtered onto the dance floor, and Harper and Travis were suddenly right next to him, making letter shapes in the air. Cujo swung Drea around as Lexi encouraged Jordan to keep dancing. Reid kept putting his hands on Lia’s ass and Petal marched straight over to him and smacked his hands.

It was messy. It was loud.

It was fucking family and they were his heart.

“Are you okay?” Harper asked.

Trent nodded. “Yeah. I’m better than okay. Merry Christmas, Darlin’.”

Thank you!

Dear Readers,

I hope you loved reading The Sweetest Gift. And for those of you who tirelessly asked for a return to these two series, I hope it lived up to your expectations. If you have a minute to spare, I hope you’ll consider taking the time to leave a review at whichever retail platform you prefer.

Read on for the opening of Love In Numbers, my new contemporary romance series set in a Denver Gin Distillery. Hot men, smart women, and a barrel full of ice-cold gin.

Huge Hugs,

Scarlett

Love In Numbers

Emerson Dyer reached the door of her father’s office in their family-run gin distillery. She ran her fingertips across the brass plate with his name on it. He’d regaled her a thousand times with the story of how her mother had hung it when they’d first bought the place. “I miss you, Dad,” she murmured, before pushing the door open.

The office was still her father’s. His raincoat still hung on the back of the door. The Denver Broncos mug she’d got him for Father’s Day when she was fifteen sat on his desk. Her mind returned to those frantic moments of finding him on the floor two months earlier. Of screaming for her younger brother, Jake, who as master distiller had just started the next batch of Dyer’s Medallion gin for the day. She’d frantically dialed 911 and balanced her phone beneath her ear, while trying her best to deliver CPR to the man who had loved them so fiercely— who had been there for them ever since the accident happened fifteen years