I don't know what happened.

It hadn't started out like this.

Me—coffee girl extraordinaire—stalking the older tall drink of expensive espresso.

That's right, I'm a stalker,

But not just any stalker.

I like to leave him gifts,

In cute little hand-crocheted stockings.

He always looks so…grinchy, and I want to make him smile.

Now, I can't stop, and if I'm honest, I don't want to.

Not when I nearly get caught hanging a stocking full of baked goodies on the handle of his fancy SUV.

Not when I learn he's not just a coffee aficionado like me but also the Kingpin of Detroit.

And definitely not after our eyes meet while I cross the street in front of him and go sailing into the air after being struck by a careless driver.

Christmas is supposed to be the season of giving, and he says I've given him the greatest gift of all…ME.

The thing with Christmas gifts, however, is that sometimes they get returned…or thrown out…or shot up because they're the singular weakness of the most ruthless man in the Midwest.

Get ready for meet-cutes, untraditional stalking, a grumpy older man and his little ray of sunshine while dodging bullets, cars, and their own attraction.

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