Page 271 of Screwged for Christmas

She knew that voice. Didn’t she? Ivy crouched for a better look and she groaned when the little bells on her slippers tinkled again. So much for her tough kick-ass persona.

His gaze dropped to her feet. “Uhh, are those antlers on your feet? And tiny bells? Cute.”

There went that gruff voice again. This time with a hint of laughter and it cranked up the fire that burned in her veins.

“Never you mind, mister. And hey, don’t look at my feet, crazy man. The dangerous end is up here.” She wound up her batting arm and tightened her grip on the handle of her grandmother’s most prized possession beyond her bed and breakfast.

Ivy had played softball in junior high and remembered her coach’s instructions to swing from the waist and let the bat do the rest. In this case, her cast iron cookware.

“I believe you, but you’ll freeze to death if you don’t get back inside, though it’s probably not much better in there given how long the power has been out.”

As her ax-wielder stepped out from the low hanging eaves, her jaw hinged open. Dark hair paired with a set of equally dark eyes offset by a huge, soft smile greeted her. And muscle. Lord save her soul the muscle on the man didn’t end. She bet half the female population of Dixen melted every time they looked his way.

She knew she always did.

“If it ain’t the Big Dix man himself.”

She finally peeled her eyes off the yards of strained plaid around his biceps to take in the full effect of his cocky grin and dark eyes. Still as piercing as ever. No surprise there. But what did surprise her was not to see hatred or contempt behind those thick lashes for her. Not even a sliver of indifference.

Then again, Aspen wasn’t one for grudges.

His brow cocked a few degrees north and shook his head. “You know, no one calls me that anymore?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t change the fact it’s true. The original, in fact.”

The earned nickname from senior year in high school made him grimace a bit but she saw the flash of humor over his expression too. It was the last game of the season and when they crushed the visiting team the crowd started cheering big dixs. It stuck and the girls of Dixen, Alaska have never let the boys of Dixen High live it down.

“So it seems.” His grin doubled in size, his gaze drinking her in slow and steady.

Disarmed, her batting arm dropped slightly. Of all the people she could run into first, of course, it would be him.

“Aspen Kennedy.” Her first reaction was a rush of heat from head to toe. Then embarrassment. After all, she almost married the man. To have not recognized him instantly said a lot about her mental state. After the awkward moment of leaving him at the altar, the last she heard, he was in California as a top hotshot firefighter. As his gaze raked over her, instant self-awareness set in. His voice was rougher than she remembered, but as the sun crested the hills, that hard, chiseled jaw line became more familiar by the second as did the small set of dimples on either side of his smile.

“Talk about surprises. What are you doing here?” Flustered and a little embarrassed by her John Wayne bravado, Ivy straightened and let her swinging arm fully rest at her side. Cold air rounded the house from the lake as a reminder of who held all the cards. Mother Nature in full winter mode. She wrapped her free arm around herself.

Now that she thought about it a little longer, maybe some firewood was a good idea, after all.

“It’s good to see you, Ivy Sunday.”

Not an answer to her question, but the sound of her name falling from his lips brought a rush of memories to mind. The way she felt in his arms, his lips on hers. Every detail she tried to bury surfaced and brought with them a flush of goose bumps across her bare skin. Looking at him stare down at her like she was a sight to behold made her chest tighten.

Fuck, her heart hurt.

Hearing him say her name like that in a slow, easy drawl made the tension between her shoulder blades contract. After he learned her full name over storytime and a bucket of Play-Doh in preschool, he never called her anything else. No one else since him had ever called her by both her names either.

Only him.

Aspen propped the ax beside the cutting block and ate up the few steps leading up to the porch with long strides.

Slightly faded black jeans encased powerful, thick thighs and traveled the length of long legs to end over the top of old and worn boots. With scuffs along the sides and tips, she could tell they were his favorite for hours of outdoor work.

Her eyes retraced the mileage back up and settled on his just in time to see him take the last step between them.

Oh no.

She held her breath as his intent registered the second their gazes connected. Within a couple of steps he gathered her in a tight hug and twirled her around. She let out a bubbly laugh like she used to when they were in high school and he scored a touchdown for the home team as she cheered him on from the sidelines.

Instant warmth wrapped around her, and she did her best not to blush when he pulled her back. Her feet barely had a chance to touch the floor when warm lips brushed against hers in a soft, tender kiss.

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