Living in a town named Christmas Falls with a name like Gray Frost, youd think I loved Christmas.

On the contrary, Id rather get a root canal than participate in anything remotely festive. Yet here I am—running the regional airport for commuter airlines and rich guys who have nothing better to do than fly in for the season.

Just today, I picked a fight with a pilot—the wealthy and wickedly attractive Sunny Day. Hes as irritatingly cheerful as his name would suggest, even when his plane breaks down. Hes a little less bright when he realizes I have the only spare bed in town.

The only point in his favor is that he hates Christmas as much as I do. When I find out what stole his joy, though, I have to wonder if the towns charms can give him back the love he once had for the holiday.