Christmas Kisses Warming Up To Love Read Online Aria Cole, Mila Crawford

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Christmas Kisses - Warming Up To Love

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Aria Cole, Mila Crawford

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B08NKDH153
Book Information:

When Noelle Snow won a nationwide cooking contest, she had the pick of any restaurant in the country. Needing to escape the pain of her past and the memories that still haunted her, she packed her bags and headed to Lodge mountain. It was a job, her own kitchen, and a new beginning; she never expected the unexpected flood or to fall in the arms of her competition.

Everett Winters loves his little hometown, but he'd always wanted to see the world. So he started a fast-paced life in New York City, but he came home to save his family business when tragedy struck. He never expected to be competing with the French Resort down or falling for the sweet celebrity chef that worked there.

Warning: This book is filled with cheese and Christmas cheer. Come fall in love at Lodge Mountain.
Books by Author:

Aria Cole, Mila Crawford



Chapter 1

Noelle

“Here we are, St. Reginald Resort. It’s a pretty fancy place,” the driver said as we pulled up to a massive chateau-like building adorned with decorative icicles and white Christmas lights. Stepping out of the car, I was taken aback by the beauty of the pillowy, pure white snow covering every surface around me. The sun was setting, casting a purple hue reflecting back from the ground. The sight was breathtaking.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Sure is; Ridge Mountain is a piece of heaven on earth. While you’re here, you should really take in the local spots. There is more to the mountain than this place.”

“Since I’m going to be living here for the next little while, I plan to.”

“Oh, you’re a new recruit,” he said, taking my two large,heavy suitcases out of the car. “What do you have in this one,” he asked, pointing to my extra-large, hot-pink bag.

“Pots and pans.”

“You could just say none of your business,” he said, his voice taking on a tinge of annoyance.

“No, really. It’s pots and pans. I’m a chef, and I’ve found I like using certain pots over others. It’s tough to explain, but food just tastes better when prepared with certain things.”

“I know we are hidden up in the mountains, but Amazon does deliver here.”

“Oh, these can’t be delivered via Amazon. These are something special. A few have been handed down for generations.”

The driver just smiled, lugging the bags to the front door. “Tradition is important. That I can understand.”

I handed him a fifty.

“Oh, no, miss. This is way too much,” he said, trying to give it back to me.

“It’s not. I enjoyed the drive and the company.”

“Thank you, it’s very generous of you.”

As I walked into the resort, Pierre Dubois, the owner, walked right up to me. I found it odd that he was just there. I’d assumed I would have met him later this evening when I began my first shift. I was supposed to be at the resort yesterday, but due to a new dump of snow, I’d had to wait for the roads to clear, so I’d ended up sleeping at the motel by the airport.

“Ah, Noelle, it’s lovely to finally meet you in person. I wish I could give you the night to relax. But we have so many reservations, and it’s all for you.”

“That’s okay. I’m here to cook. Just point me to the kitchen.”

“Oh, wonderful. After your win on the Culinary Network, everyone is beyond excited to try your culinary masterpieces.” He waved his hand at a bellhop, who immediately ran over and grabbed both my bags, placing them on a trolley.

“Oh, the pink one can go straight to the kitchen. Please don’t open the bag. I will set everything up myself.”

The young man just nodded at me and carried my bags away.

“He’ll put everything else in your room. Would you like to see the kitchen now or settle into your room first?”

“I’m okay to start right away. I usually like to get a feel for the kitchen.”

“Wonderful,” Pierre said, gesturing toward a long marble hallway adorned with two rows of similarly decorated Christmas trees.

“I like how festive you all are,” I said, admiring the decorations. The place looked like a Hallmark Christmas movie. I found myself being wrapped up in the season as I stared at the elegant embellishments. Looking up, I saw crystal icicles hanging from the chandeliers. It was a work of art. These were not the homemade decorations that my family and I used to make every year but more like something you’d find in Bloomingdales.

“The clients really like it. Christmas means overindulgence, apparently,” he said, his nose crinkled, which I took as a form of disgust. I never understood how anyone could hate Christmas. It was a time of year that was filled with hope, love, and joy to me. All of the best memories were at Christmas. “Here is your kitchen.”

My kitchen.

My whole life, I’d wanted to cook for people. Food was a staple in life—all our memories were connected to something edible. Soup for when we are sad, cake for times of joy, tastes turning in a tide in our mouths that could bring us back to a glimmer of times gone by. The kitchen was my real home, always had been—the place where I was the happiest.

I scanned the massive modern room, —white walls, white quartz countertops, filled with state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances.

“What do you think?” Pierre asked, a giant smile adorning his gaunt face. “This is your workstation.” He pointed to a large area that already had all my pots and pans waiting for me. I was pleased to see that it was all set up correctly, even though I asked him not to touch it. Then again, a place like the resort probably prided itself on perfection. “And if you follow me, I’ll show you your office.”


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