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)
“I, uh... should probably get going,” she says, her voice a bit unsteady. “Can’t have the kids thinking Mrs. Claus got herself in trouble up on Copper Mountain.”
I smirk, stepping back, letting her regain her composure. “Guess I’ll see you around then. Naughty List and all.”
She bites her lip, and I catch the flicker of hesitation, the tiniest hint that maybe, just maybe, she’s reconsidering. But then she gives a quick nod and turns, practically tripping over her own feet in her hurry to get to the door.
I watch her go, the image of her in that Santa hat burned into my mind, and I know for damn sure this isn’t the last I’ll be seeing of Ivy.
Chapter Three
Ivy
I shove open the door to the Copper Country Cafe the next morning, and the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls hits me like a warm hug. This place has become my sanctuary since moving to Copper Mountain last year. Its worn wooden floors, red vinyl booths, and Betty’s no-nonsense smile all make it feel like home. But today, it feels like my mission field.
I’m just getting cozy in my usual booth by the window when Cole steps in, his presence filling the room before he’s even taken a seat. I can practically feel his reluctance radiating off him as he takes in the festive decor I helped Betty put up last week—garlands twisted along the countertops, strings of fairy lights around the windows, a big ol’ Santa smiling down from above the coffee machine. His gaze is skeptical, almost annoyed, as if each Christmas decoration is some personal offense.
“You really dragged me out here for hot chocolate?” His voice is low, that deep rumble that does weird things to my resolve.
“Yes, Cole,” I say, flashing him a sweet smile, pushing my enthusiasm up to an eleven just to see him squirm. “You said I owed you for yesterday. You need a little holiday cheer anyway, and I’m here to make it happen.”
He grunts, like my declaration of cheer is somehow a threat. “Holiday cheer. Right.”
“Come on, you might surprise yourself,” I tease, sliding into a booth and gesturing for him to do the same. He pauses a beat, eyeing me like he’s considering bailing on this whole thing, but after a moment, he sighs and sits across from me, folding his arms.
Betty bustles over, an eyebrow raised at the sight of us. “Well, Ivy, look at you, bringing in Copper Mountain’s biggest Scrooge for some Christmas spirit. You must have magic up your sleeve.”
Cole rolls his eyes but manages a small smile at Betty. “Yeah, yeah. Just bring me the strongest coffee you’ve got.”
I nudge him under the table. “Uh-uh. Hot chocolate with marshmallows. We’re here to channel holiday vibes, remember?”
He narrows his eyes at me, but there’s a hint of amusement there. “Fine. But if this tastes like sugar syrup, I’m charging you double on your next oil change.”
Betty snorts. “Coming right up, Ivy’s treat.”
She walks away with a grin, leaving us sitting across from each other, the air charged with something I can’t quite put a name to. I search for something to break the silence, but he beats me to it.
“So, what’s the story, Ivy? You got any family nearby?” His voice has a hint of curiosity that almost surprises me, like he’s actually interested in my answer.
I shake my head. “Nope. Just me. My parents retired to Florida, and they’re living it up in endless sunshine and golf carts. I send them pictures of snow to make them jealous, though.” I smile, trying to picture them bundled up in ugly Christmas sweaters, something they abandoned the moment they found their beach house.
Cole chuckles, leaning back a bit. “So, you’re here in Copper Mountain all on your own. Guess that explains why you’re so eager to force Christmas cheer on unsuspecting townsfolk.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “I like to think of it as sharing, not forcing. Besides, maybe you should try sharing a little holiday cheer yourself, Mr. Bah Humbug.”
He smirks, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m plenty cheerful, Ivy. Just happens that my idea of cheer doesn’t involve strings of lights or giant inflatable Santas.”
“So, what does it involve?” I press, my gaze holding his. My attraction to this man surprises me–he’s at least a decade older than me and not my type at all. Not that I really have a type I guess, but my last boyfriend was a software engineer, and the one before that was…well, I guess there wasn’t one before that. I dated a few boys while I was getting my teaching degree, but none that I care to remember.
He hesitates, like he’s sizing me up, deciding how much to share. “Let’s just say my holidays aren’t filled with jingle bells and caroling. I spend Christmas with the Steeles. Knox and I grew up together. His family pretty much took me in after...well, after my mom left.”