Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
When Ivy, a spirited school teacher and Christmas enthusiast, rolls into the snowy mountain town of Copper Mountain, she’s determined to spread holiday cheer with her “Naughty or Nice” contest for the locals. But her festive mission hits a snag when she crosses paths with Cole, the town’s brooding mechanic who has little patience for Christmas spirit—or for Ivy’s relentless cheer.
After a messy first meeting in his garage, Ivy decides that Cole, with his scowling gaze and refusal to embrace the season, is the perfect candidate for her Naughty List. From holiday dares and mistletoe mishaps to tangling up in Christmas lights, Ivy’s holiday challenge slowly chips away at Cole’s gruff exterior, bringing out a side of him he thought he’d long buried.
But as Ivy works her magic on his hardened heart, Cole begins to realize he’s not just warming up to Christmas—he’s falling for the one woman who’s brought a spark back into his life. And with every stolen kiss and heated embrace, Ivy finds herself wondering if the man she’s determined to ‘fix’ might just be the one she’s been searching for all along.
This Christmas, Ivy and Cole are about to discover that sometimes the best gifts can’t be wrapped up in a bow…
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Ivy
The icy air nips at my cheeks as I step out of my car, wrapping my arms around myself. It’s quiet up here, the soft crunch of my boots on the snow-covered gravel the only sound against the backdrop of pines dusted with fresh snowfall. The grungy sign outside the garage reads “Cole’s Repairs,” painted in faded red that almost blends into the brick.
The garage itself is uninviting, but I’m desperate. My car, filled to the brim with garlands, Santa hats, and reindeer antlers, sits awkwardly in front of the garage, steam puffing out from under the hood. Not exactly the festive entry I had in mind for this trip.
I make my way toward the open bay door, peeking inside. It’s dim, the scent of motor oil and grease heavy in the air, but I spot him instantly—broad shoulders hunched over a motorcycle, his hands working confidently at some piece of machinery. Even from here, I can see the tightness in his jaw, the focus etched across his face.
“Um… hello?” My voice bounces off the metal walls, interrupting the almost reverent silence of his workspace.
He doesn’t look up right away, but when he does, he takes his time, his gaze dragging up from my boots, over my sweater covered in tiny Christmas lights, and stopping at my red wool hat with its ridiculous pom-pom.
“You lost, Mrs. Claus?” His voice is a low rumble, steady and unimpressed.
I raise an eyebrow, refusing to be put off. “Actually, I was on my way up the mountain to find the perfect tree for my classroom. But it seems my car had other plans.”
His eyes flick to the festive chaos spilling out of my backseat, then back to me. “Looks like you’re hauling half of Santa’s workshop in there. You sure it’s not you who overloaded the poor thing?”
I narrow my eyes. “For your information, Mr. Grinch, I was doing Copper Mountain a favor, spreading some Christmas cheer.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, almost a smile. “Didn’t realize Copper Mountain needed saving. Or that I needed holiday cheer shoved in my face.”
“Everyone could use a little cheer,” I counter, folding my arms. “Especially you.”
“Oh, really?” He lets out a dry chuckle, his eyes sharp, assessing. “You think you can tell what I need, just by looking at me?”
The intensity in his gaze throws me off balance, but I plant my feet. “Let’s just say you look like someone who’d end up on the Naughty List.”
His laugh this time is full, rough, and it sends a jolt of heat straight through me. “Naughty List, huh?” He takes a step forward, closing the distance between us. “Careful, Mrs. Claus. You don’t wanna know what happens to those who try to put me on that list.”
I try to steady my breathing, even as he invades my space, the scent of motor oil and cedar filling my senses. “Well, someone has to keep you in check.”
“Good luck with that,” he mutters, his eyes grazing over me with an intensity that makes me feel exposed. “So, what am I supposed to do with this mess of yours?” He gestures toward my car, a hint of humor in his otherwise gruff expression.
I lift my chin, refusing to let him rattle me. “If you could look under the hood, that would be a start. I’m on a bit of a mission here, and I’m not letting a grumpy mechanic stop me.”
He smirks, one dark eyebrow arching. “Oh, is that right? A ‘mission,’ huh? Lemme guess—finding that perfect tree to ‘wow’ your little audience of six-year-olds?”
I meet his gaze head-on. “It’s actually third graders. And yes, I want the perfect tree. Why shouldn’t they have something festive and beautiful to look at?”
His eyes drop to my lips, lingering there a moment before he says, “I can think of plenty of beautiful things to look at.”
Heat floods my cheeks, but I keep my voice steady. “Well, I’m glad you agree.”
He grunts, unimpressed, then moves around me toward the car, his arm brushing against mine. His touch, rough and unintentional, leaves a trail of tingling awareness in its wake. He lifts the hood, peering inside, his strong hands working with practiced ease as he pokes around.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that Christmas spirit doesn’t come from how many shiny things you can pack into a car?” His voice is muffled as he bends under the hood.
“And didn’t anyone ever tell you that a little holiday cheer never killed anyone?” I shoot back, leaning against the car.
He straightens, his face suddenly inches from mine, his eyes narrowing in challenge. “You really think you can change people just by tossing a few garlands around?”
I hold my ground. “I think people sometimes need a reminder that there’s good in the world. That maybe, if they opened their hearts a little, they might find it, too.”