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her.
     
    She touched his lips. “You’ve got me.”
     
    “We’ve got us.” Pete kissed her again.
     
    Becca smiled. “It started under the mistletoe—mistletoe magic.”
     
    Pete gazed at her. They laughed. Christmas had it all: from the greatest miracle to the smallest…And God had graced them with every one.
     
    “I love you,” they both said at once. Love, love, love—wow .
     

 
     
    Excerpt from Always: San Francisco Brides Book One
     
     
     
    Vincente cringed at the sounds of whistling and screeching women. Tugging at his tux coat, he shrugged, trying to ease the grip of this damn suit. The jacket tightened across his shoulders and back like a hostile bodyguard had him pinned. He let out a breath. He hadn’t even worn a suit at his own wedding. He rolled his shoulders. His life was different now. His wife, and the man he’d been, were gone.
     
    He pushed out a breath and checked his tie. If he had to wear this, he’d at least make sure it was smooth and his tie straight.
     
    “Your grandpop’s getting some reaction,” Joey D’Angelo said. He held the curtain to the stage open slightly to see out.
     
    Vincente looked over Joey’s shoulder at Grandpop striding across the stage. The old man worked the room like a pro. Which he was, a legend at charming women. It was a rippling bay of waving hands and red dresses out there. Even younger women were bidding on Grandpop. Vincente’d probably be greeted with silence. Just as well. Then he could leave. Vincente tilted his head to the ceiling, praying for patience. Better yet, a way to get the hell out of this.
     
    Joey let the curtain fall and turned to Vincente, a wide grin on his face. Women found Joey’s smile disarming but to Vincente it said: Better luck next time, buddy. “You’re up next.”
     
    Vincente shook his head and stepped toward the exit. He shouldn’t have agreed to do this. He should’ve just donated a few hundred to the women’s heart health group instead of getting roped into doing a bachelor auction. But Grandpop and Uncle Enzo were right. Vincente’s parents would want him to do it, to honor his mom’s memory and raise money so someday no one would go through what his parents had.
     
    But for it to be on Valentine’s Day, his anniversary, no less. Throw the widower out there as a cheery Valentine’s date? Not that he was still grieving after five years. He rubbed his palms on his slacks. He liked chance meetings, a slow build, not online dating, not set-ups, and definitely not being bought at auction. But, as Grandpop had pointed out so many times, Vincente’s old-fashioned ways weren’t producing results.
     
    “If I’m doing this, so are you,” Joey said, shoving him toward the backstage curtain. Joey’s mom, Sophia, was notorious for trying to set him, and Vincente, up on dates. She’d convinced Joey to participate tonight.
     
    Vincente’s grandpop appeared from behind the curtain, his silver hair gleaming in the bright backlight, a broad smile on his face, his “I’m the most interesting man in the world” subtle swagger completing the picture. That guy in the beer commercial had nothing on Grandpop.
     
    “I got them all warmed up for you,” Grandpop said. He patted Vincente’s shoulder with a vigorous smack.
     
    “Isn’t one DeGrazia enough out there?” Vincente slid his hands over the sides of his short hair.
     
    “Ten thousand graces is not enough in this world. Besides, your dream woman is out there. Andiamo !” Grandpop waved his hands.
     
    “Yeah, go!” Joey said with a shove on Vincente’s back.
     
    “And here, ladies, we have Vincente DeGrazia,” the announcer, an old family friend, Paolo Francis, said as Vincente stepped out from behind the heavy gold and cream curtain onto the stage. “He’s the grandson of the fabulous gentleman we just met. Vincente, come on, don’t be shy,” he goaded and motioned for Vincente to walk forward.
     
    Vincente should be bold and work