Page 275 of Screwged for Christmas

It didn’t matter how heartbreakingly handsome he was or how good he looked in those black Wranglers. Boyfriends and romance, in general, were in her time-out zone. Maybe forever. But definitely nixed in the bud and dead on the stem until further notice. She felt ten years older and a hundred years wiser over the last month and a half.

“If I took that bet you would lose, and how would I look taking your money, Gran? Men are not worth the trouble.”

“You can’t let that no-good ex of yours ruin something special, Ivy hon. Or the fact you already tried the whole wedding route with Aspen. Both of you were too young at the time. Everything happens for a reason. Take it from me.” Gran’s soft blue eyes brightened. “Your grandfather was a special man, bless his soul. I would hate for you to miss out on something like that. Life is way too precious. And short to be stuck up and prudish.”

Okaaay.

“I know, Gran. Maybe just not now.” She was twenty-six so yeah, maybe the clock was ticking according to Gran and Mom. She heard about it every week from one or the other. But for her, she could wait. She pulled the curtains aside and peeked out for another look.

“And if you’re not wanting anything with a man, then maybe a lady friend then?”

“Gran!” She choked out around a laugh, spilling her coffee over the rim of her mug. There was the time in college and then again graduation night, but nothing that led to anything permanent. But Ivy kept her lips sealed. “Not really.” She grabbed a paper towel and cleaned off the mess. If she were to survive Christmas with this lady, simple coffee wouldn’t do. She needed something stronger.

Gran threw her hands up in her defense, but the sly grin that teased her lips canceled out the defeated gesture. “Okay. Just checking. But wouldn’t that shake things up a bit in town?”

“Gran, you’re a special lady.”

Gran flicked aside a few curlers in a diva move. “I know.”

Ivy sighed before she continued. “Before you get some funny idea, my love life is not up for Facebook fodder.”

Her Gran paused to raise her coffee as if to think that over for half a second. “Sounds fair enough. I’ll cancel the ‘Will Ivy and Aspen Get Back Together’ poll I had scheduled to go live at noon.”

Every drop of blood in her body hit ground zero and left her frozen in place. “You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re kidding.”

Gran smiled and took a sip of her coffee all angel-like, but Ivy didn’t buy that false halo for a second.

Taking Gran’s silence as a good thing, Ivy crossed her antlers and marveled in the jolt of goodness as caffeine seeped into her veins. She knew a losing battle when she saw one.

“So, Gran, you giving classes on how to snoop out these signals you claim I’m missing in life? I need to know the dirty tricks so I can counteract appropriately.” She smiled around her cup before taking a sip to keep from laughing at the fake surprised look her grandma shot her. The roller set jiggled around the sides of her face.

“There’s no defense against the magical, somewhat dark arts, of a determined grandmother.”

Ivy tapped the side of her mug, “What are you up to?”

Her only answer was a set of perfectly tweezed eyebrows wiggling at her. Mercy Lou’s beauty parlor would have nothing less than perfection for her clients.

Several taps came from the back door and Ivy tossed her Grandma a narrowed look in warning, but the smile she received in return promised everything but.

She turned to see a kaleidoscope of colors reflect off a white paper bag with bold red lettering and a brush of snowflakes through the stained glass. She flung the back door open. “What took you so long. Ohhh. Is that what I think it is?” Okay. Christmas could mosey right along and she would rejoice the day the calendar rolled over to the twenty-sixth. But—and wasn’t there always a but—no one in their right mind turned down what Aspen dangled between them in a white paper bag.

Only one man had that much love and dedication for sweet, delectable finger-licking carbs.

“Hardt’s Coffee House donuts and bear claws?” She would recognize that smell until her dying day.

“Packaged by the very man himself when he heard his favorite person was in town.”

“Aspen, you just earned yourself saint of the year.”

Aspen followed her inside. She felt his presence beside her before he wound his arm around her waist. Goose bumps rose on her arms despite still wearing his coat. Lips against her ear he whispered, “I’d settle for another kiss.”

She couldn’t suppress her smile. She jerked her gaze to his and let a slow smile glide across her lips before pressing them softly to his. A bud of excitement bloomed and she just as quickly squashed it before muttering a quick, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He passed over the bag and she guided them to the kitchen.

She supposed there was no harm in admitting she might still have a weakness for Aspen. But she needed to hold firm to her plan. Men and holidays were a no-fly zone for her no matter how determined her grandmother wanted to be.

A blast of cold air rushed in as Aspen kicked off the snow from his boots.

---