Page 340 of Screwged for Christmas

She had to give it to her. The lady knew how to draw a gathering. Window dressings along the streets beyond the square created a halo of lights to surround the festivities. Booth after booth offered everything from homemade sweets tied up with pretty ribbons and warm beverages to toys and handcrafted souvenirs. Many of them featuring their very own Rocco.

Speaking of, she wondered where the mischievous critter was now. Her gaze followed giggly laughter and found her on the opposite side of the square accepting carrots from bubbly kids. If they were not careful he’d have the best night of his life with all the low hanging lights strung across the square.

On the far end she caught sight of the empty stage where the second main attraction would take place marked with a large red banner across the front that read Annual Cookie Contest.

To the right, booths offering knickknacks and holiday baubles. And across from those she spied Hardt’s booth decked out with a large white and gold banner announcing his bakery and world-famous recipes. Opposite him, Mr. December’s banner flashed with lights and a life-sized dancing Santa singing “Rudolf the Red nosed Reindeer.” Both men bustled behind the counters as they prepared for the Christmas cookie contest.

She read over the flyer she’d received from Mrs. December on the activities planned for the evening. First up came the ugly sweater contest, then the pie eating contest and a small play that would be performed by the elementary school followed up by the cookie contest and ending with the main attraction—the Christmas tree lighting. In all, a couple of hours of delightful fun.

Ms. Lucille emerged from the crowd with Charlie at her side.

“Wow. They really went all out this year. I don’t remember a tree this tall growing up.” Ivy tilted her head back to take in the entire height of the town’s tree.

“Joe really came through for us this year.”

“I’ve been told it pays to be connected.” Referring to Aspen’s earlier statement. Ivy handed Ms. Lucille the second slice of pie and hot cocoa. They finished their treats in a comfortable silence, as Ivy absorbed the contagious wave of happiness that infected everyone within a hundred yards of all the smiling people.

Flashing red lights and bubbly laughter drew her gaze to the far end of the square next to the stage. A red engine slowly crept to a full stop. Five firefighters descended from the rig, but only one caught her eye.

Unaware that she watched, Ivy took her time sipping her cocoa as Aspen bent and lifted a little tike up to sit behind the wheel of the fire engine. Another came up and wanted to pull the horn and he laughed, indulging them all. Horn blasts and flashing lights filled the night as every kid had the chance to experience the excitement of meeting firefighters.

“He has a heart of gold, that man.”

And the hardest, hottest body she couldn’t get enough of. But she kept that to herself.

Ivy nodded at Ms. Lucille’s words. “He does. He’ll make a good husband one day.”

“I agree. You guys will make the perfect team. It’s about time you guys got your second chance.”

That had her choking on the last bite of pie. “You sound so sure.”

“I saw that kiss in the gazebo. He’s not playing. From the look in her gaze and the way you kissed him back, you’re not fooling anyone, missy.”

That gave Ivy pause. “Am I crazy to think it’s possible, Ms. Lucille?”

“Anything is possible if you want it bad enough, dear. Sometimes it just takes knowing what youdon’twant to see what you really want. You need to remember, I knew you when you were youngsters. And I know real love when I see it.” She paused and patted Ivy’s hand before standing. “Enough of the mushy stuff. Let’s have some fun. It’s almost time for the ugly sweater contest and we need to get you in the running. Don’t want all that hard knitting time to go to waste. Plus, Santa has a hard-on for this kind of stuff.” Out came the sweater she desperately didn’t want to wear.

“Look it even matches your red skirt and white blouse. Oh, honey, you missed a button.”

“What?” Ivy looked down. “Oh!”

Ms. Lucille’s eyes lit with mischief. “Nice sleigh ride?”

The heat that hit Ivy’s face had to be glowing bright red.

“Come, let’s see if that sweater of yours can beat mine and Charlie’s. We both can use a new set of frying pans. Those always come in handy for newly married couples.”

Ivy opened her mouth and then shut it when Ms. Lucille challenged her to say anything with her renowned stare honed from years of teaching.

She looped her arms through hers, Santa’s knitted hard-on on full display hanging down her chest. “Yes, ma’am. Lead the way.”

They made their way through the crowd and she slipped out of her coat and passed it to Mr. Murphy.

“Wish me luck.”

“Oh dear.” Ms. Lucille and Mrs. Murphy cringed in unison. “Yes, I think you have a real chance of winning this one.”

“Charming, I know,” she shrugged and stepped in line with the other contestants. Smiling faces looked back at her and the fun commenced.

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