LONG VALLEY IN LOVE

A CONTEMPORARY WESTERN ROMANCE BOXSET (BOOKS 5 - 8)

BOXSETS & BUNDLES OF LONG VALLEY

BOOK TWO

ERIN WRIGHT

Copyright © 2019 by Erin Wright

Christmas of Love – Edited, expanded, & republished © 2020

Overdue for Love – © 2016

Bundle of Love – © 2018

Lessons in Love – © 2018

These books are a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of these books may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover Designed by Sunset Rose Books

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Welcome to Long Valley, where the cowboys are *damn* fine…

Christmas of Love

Overdue for Love

Bundle of Love

Lessons in Love

The Other Half of My Life

A FREE Story For You…

Stampede of Love Blurb

Stampede of Love Preview

The story doesn’t end…

Also by Erin Wright

About Erin Wright

WELCOME TO LONG VALLEY, WHERE THE COWBOYS ARE *DAMN* FINE…

This is my second boxset of books in the main Long Valley series; the first boxset being Miller Brothers in Love which contains books 1 - 4.

If you haven’t already bought that boxset (or the books inside of it), you’ll want to do that first before proceeding with this boxset.

I mean, you don’t have to; after all, my books are all standalones (meaning that there’s a beginning, a middle, and an end for each couple, and all of that happens in one book, not spread over a trilogy or something) but they’re also all set in a small town (Sawyer, Idaho in the Long Valley area) and they all know each other. Just like in real life, they wander in and out of each other’s lives and a couple that you met in a previous book may now be having a baby together or getting married or building a house – fun couple things like that.

So yeah, you can read the books out of order but I promise you, it’s more fun if you read them in order, because then you’re catching up with how each couple is doing now, after they’ve had their happily-ever-after moment.

With that, enjoy!

CHRISTMAS OF LOVE

A SMALL TOWN HOLIDAY WESTERN ROMANCE

To the teenage me:

I’m glad you didn’t give up that day in the music closet

CHAPTER 1

IVY

Quick Note: If you enjoy Christmas of Love, be sure to check out my offer of a FREE Long Valley novella at the end.

With that, enjoy!

* * *

December, 2017

Well, this party was exactly as exciting as Ivy McLain thought it was going to be.

Which was to say, not very exciting at all.

Of course, this was Sawyer, Idaho. What else could she expect?

She sighed. Only this, unfortunately. A bunch of old farmers, standing around and jawing about how their crops didn’t bring in enough money and there wasn’t enough water this past year, or maybe there was too much water, and the combine broke down in the field again…

It was enough to make Ivy’s head hurt. Why people intentionally chose to live this way was beyond her. Especially the cold part. She shivered, pulling her woefully inadequate jacket tighter around herself. Ugh. A little over two weeks before Christmas in Sawyer freakin’ Idaho. She should be grateful it wasn’t snowing, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be that saintly.

It was too cold to be grateful or saintly.

Her mom looked up from her discussion with Mrs. Frank about plans for next year’s garden, and waved. Ivy smiled as cheerfully as she could – which meant that it was more of a grimace than anything – and huffed out a breath. If she didn’t love her parents so much, she never would’ve made herself come back here. Thank God it was just a weekend visit. To actually live in Sawyer again…

Another shiver ran through her – from disgust or cold, she couldn’t tell – and she spun on her heel to head towards the refreshment table. She’d make herself some hot cocoa and—

“Oof!” she gasped, when she ran into a brick wall.

She looked up to see…

Well, the cutest brick wall she’d ever laid eyes on. The phrase “tall, dark, and handsome” was definitely appropriate. Thick brown hair just long enough to run her fingers through, and the most piercing emerald green eyes she’d ever had the pleasure to see. Whiplash quick, he reached out a hand to steady her, gripping her elbow to keep her upright.

“Howdy,” he said, pushing his cowboy hat a little further up on his head. In his hand was a mug of mulled apple cider.

An empty mug of mulled apple cider, because she’d spilled it all over him with her clumsiness.

The world froze as she realized what she’d done. Dammit all, she was a waitress! She knew how to navigate in tight spots. What on earth was she doing, running people over like that? A painful silence stretched between them, a chasm as she stared at the damage she’d wreaked.

And then the dam broke, and the words came tumbling out.

“So sorry!” she gasped, looking at his jacket, covered in a brown liquid that was now dripping off onto the frozen ground. “So, so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going and then you were there and…let me help clean you up. It’s the least I can do.” Not waiting for his response, she began dragging him towards the refreshment table, thankfully only a few feet away. She’d get him cleaned up and on his way, and then she’d run and hide in her parents’ broom closet.

Preferably for the next year or so.

“No worries!” he said with a low chuckle as he hurried along behind her. She stopped abruptly at the table and began grabbing the paper towels. “This jacket needs to be dry cleaned anyway,” he continued. “Kept meaning to take it on over to the Wash ’N Spin, but haven’t had—”

Which is when she started patting his face dry, and he had to shut up. Dammit, dammit, dammit. She’d gotten apple cider everywhere. How on earth did she get it on his earlobe?! She was patting him dry and trying really hard to ignore his strong jaw covered with a light dusting of dark brown stubble and green eyes and—

Just get this done already, Ivy!

Her pats were coming a little slower, though, as she got caught up in his gaze. They were only inches apart from each other, and sure, her hands were filled with dirty paper towels, and sure, his jacket was sticky to the touch from the cider, but in that moment?

None of that mattered.

All she could do was stare at him. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, her breath uneven.

“My name is Austin Bishop,” he said, breaking the silence between them. “And yours is?”

Right. Name.

She probably should’ve thought to introduce herself before she put her hands all over his body, but better late than never, right?

“Ivy McLain,” she said, proud that she could get her name out at all. She sounded breathless, but she was breathless, so there wasn’t much to be done about that.

“I thought you looked like Iris,” he said, with what was possibly the cutest grin she’d ever seen on a man’s face.

“People say I look like her,” Ivy said with a shrug, happy to note that her voice didn’t sound quite as breathless as it had before. “I don’t see it, personally.”

“You don’t see…” His voice trailed off and he cocked an eyebrow at her in disbelief. “You two could be twins,” he said bluntly.

Ivy threw her head back and laughed. It was sweet of him to say, of course. And she wasn’t going to be coy and demure and say that it wasn’t true – even though it really wasn’t – in an attempt to get him to give her more compliments.

But everyone knew that her older sister had gotten the looks, the personality, and the athletic skills in the family. There wasn’t much use pretending otherwise.

“So why the plant names?” Austin asked after her chuckles had died down a bit. His gaze was as intense as ever, like he was trying to memorize every curve, every freckle, every laugh line on her face. It was disconcerting to have someone look at her so…intently.

She tried not to read too much into it, though. He probably looked at everyone that way.

She shrugged. “My parents wanted us girls to remember ‘our roots,’ so they named us after plants. Mostly what ended up happening was they couldn’t keep our names straight. I kid you not – I thought my name was Iris-Ivy for about the first seven years of my life.”

He chuckled, and a warmth spread through her that belied the brisk winter temperatures. She wanted to lean into him again, but this time, not be blotting up spilled apple cider. She wanted—

“Oh, there you are!”

The voice cut through the cold air like a whip – slicing through Ivy’s heart and sending spasms of pain through her. No, not her. She can’t be here! Iris promised me she wouldn’t invite—

And then Tiffany was draping herself over Austin, practically climbing up his side. Tiffany sent Ivy a sickeningly sweet smile that didn’t even vaguely reach her eyes, as she looked her up and down. Dismissing her, Tiffany turned back to Austin. “I didn’t realize you’d be here, darlin’,” she cooed. “I tried calling you about going to the ice skating show tomorrow night, but you didn’t answer.” She ran her fingers up his chest and to his face, bopping him on the nose playfully. If she was going to get any closer to him, she’d have to strip naked to do it.

Ivy began backing up, mumbling something that could’ve been, “Have a good time,” or “Good food tonight,” or “I hope you eat bugs and die…”

Really, it was quite mumbled, and even she wasn’t sure what she said, and then she was spinning on her heel and heading towards the house, the dirtied paper towels still in her hands. She began wringing them as she walked.

“Austin and Tiffany?” she muttered under her breath, blinded by rage, slipping on a bit of ice but hardly even noticing. “Tiffany?!” She could forgive him for anyone but Tiffany.

Okay, fine, maybe not Ezzy, either.

But anyone other than Tiffany or Ezzy, she could understand.

Those two…they just didn’t seem his type.

Not, of course, that she knew his type. She barely knew his name. But floozy, bitchy girls didn’t seem like they should be anyone’s type, if you asked her.

Not that anyone had.

She tossed the dirty paper towels into a trashcan as she passed, and then stormed into the kitchen, muttering as she went. “Damn Tiffany, always ruining – Iris!” she yelped in surprise when she spotted her sister at the sink. Beautiful as ever, but a little more fragile than she used to be, Iris turned and shot her a smile.

Ivy scowled. Her sister had promised not to invite those two to the party. “You would not believe who is here!” she announced as she headed for the fruit platter on the counter. Yum – honeycrisp apples. They were her fav, and really only available in the fall and early winter. Which made them an even bigger treat when she could get her hands on them. She snatched one up and began crunching on it as she paced her parents’ small kitchen.

Iris grabbed another potato and gave it a light scrub. “Yeah?” she prompted. She looked like she was in the middle of making the infamous McLain potato salad, which was awesome. If Ivy was going to be stuck in Long Valley for a weekend, she might as well enjoy something amazing to eat.

“Tiffany and Ezzy! You didn’t invite them, did you?” Ivy asked accusingly around a mouthful of apple.

Iris turned, and without a word, sent Ivy a death glare.

That death glare. The patented Iris Blue McLain death glare.

Ever since they were kids, Iris had been able to kill with just a look, a look that made Ivy feel three feet tall.

Turns out, Iris hadn’t lost her touch when it came to her glares.

Ivy shrunk back. “I didn’t think so, I just thought I’d ask,” she mumbled sheepishly.

Iris continued to glare, and Ivy continued to feel awful. On second thought, that was a really terrible thing to accuse her sister of doing. Iris knew as well as anyone how miserable Tiffany and Ezzy had made her life all the way through school. She never would’ve invited them here on purpose.

Ivy knew that…when she wasn’t wrapped up in her own little anger-induced pity party.

When the silence had extended out into painful territory, Ivy finally mumbled, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Iris nodded her head – just once, regally, like a queen forgiving her subjects – and just like that, things were okay again. Iris gathered up a chopping board and knife, moving them over to the table, one slow step at a time.

She probably needed to sit down. Ever since her car wreck three months ago, Iris had struggled with simple things, like standing. Or walking. Or staying upright.

It was painful for Ivy to see. Her sister had been the basketball star of Long Valley. She’d helped Sawyer win state championships. She was captain of the girl’s basketball team as both a junior and a senior. She had more athletic talent in her little pinky toe than Ivy did in her whole body, something the whole valley now knew.

When the high school coach had first welcomed Ivy onto the basketball court, his eyes had been bright with excitement. He’d been handed a gift – another McLain who’d help extend the Sawyer High School winning streak an additional three years once Iris had graduated and moved on to college.

It was an excitement that quickly fizzled out when he saw Ivy’s ball handling skills, which were…nonexistent.

She’d ended up on the junior varsity team all four years of high school.

That sort of thing just wasn’t what a soul could live down in a small town.

Ivy snapped her head up as Iris began to muse, “My best guess is that they heard about the free food and music, and decided to come on down and mooch off us. They’re the kind of people who’d think that’d be okay.”

Ivy considered that for a moment and then sighed. “You’re right.” She grabbed the last item – a bowl of washed potatoes – and carried them over to the table for Iris. She should’ve been paying attention instead of wallowing in her own insecurities. Iris smiled up at her with gratitude anyway, and Ivy forced herself to smile back.

Some days, Iris could be infuriatingly kind. It really wasn’t fair that she was that pretty and that talented and that nice.

“Thanks, sis,” Iris said cheerfully, oblivious to Ivy’s inner turmoil, and drew the bowl towards her, pulling out potatoes so she could begin chopping them.

Ivy headed back to the fruit platter on the counter. Those honeycrisp apples were some of the best she’d ever had, and she couldn’t seem to keep her hands off them.

“Well, they’ve ruined everything,” she informed Iris around a mouthful of apple.

“Everything?” Iris echoed skeptically.

“Yeah! There was this guy, and—”

“Hey y’all, I need to know where you want this table,” one of the caterers said, popping his head around the kitchen door.

Iris started to struggle to her feet, but Ivy waved her off. “You sit and take a break and get the damn salad done already. There are rumblings in the ranks that no one has brought the famous McLain salad out yet. I’ll go.” It was about time she helped out, instead of just mooning over cowboys. She snagged another apple slice and headed out the door, listening as the caterer outlined the issue. She would get this straightened out, and then go hide in her parents’ broom closet. It was the least she could do for Iris, and for her parents.

It wasn’t their fault that returning to Long Valley was the disaster she knew it would be. That blame could be laid squarely at the feet of two women who’d spent years of their lives making Ivy’s life miserable…

And one hunky cowboy with terrible taste in women.

She was flying back to California tomorrow, and already, she couldn’t wait.

CHAPTER 2

AUSTIN

After extracting himself from Tiffany’s loving (read: smothering) embrace, Austin made his way over to Declan’s side. Declan was one of the few people at this party who he knew really well, plus there was the fact that he was dating Ivy’s sister. That made Declan the expert on all things Ivy McLain, at least as far as Austin was concerned.

Once he got to Declan’s side, he wracked his brain, trying to think of how to subtly ask for info about Ivy – something a little bit better than “You’re banging Ivy’s sister and I’d really like to do the same to Ivy” – when Declan’s face lit up with laughter. “Damn, Austin, I thought Tiffany was going to strangle you, she was hugging you so hard. How long have you been dating her?”

Austin glared at his best friend. Not many people liked being on the receiving end of laughter, and no surprise, Austin didn’t either. “One date. I went on one date with her. You’d think I’d proposed to her by the end of it.”

Declan let out a shout of laughter that had a couple of nearby people turning their heads to find out what was so funny. Austin did his best to blend into the frozen ground. Attention directed towards him wasn’t exactly his favorite thing in the world.

He upped his glaring. Declan laughed louder.

“Man, I can’t believe you even went on one date with Tiff. Did she trap you down at the diner?”

“Yes,” he groaned, not wanting to admit his ignorance. Now that he knew the town better, he realized this was a typical move for Tiffany, but at the time…

He let the pause hang, hoping Declan would take the hint and change topics, but nope. His best friend was still staring, stubbornly waiting for more details, so finally Austin mumbled, “It was the first day I was here in Sawyer. I only knew you, and…she was my waitress. Seemed nice enough. Said we could go to the rodeo together. I thought that sounded like fun, and who wouldn’t like a pretty girl on their arm for an afternoon? I had no idea I was signing up for a lifelong commitment.” He scrunched up his face in disgust. “Hell, even Ezzy is possessive, and I didn’t even go on a damn date with her!”

Which caused Declan to let out another bark of laughter. “Well,” he finally said, wiping the tears from his eyes, “you picked a hell of a girl to become ‘friends’ with. Tiffany is about as likely to let you go as she is to chip one of her manicured nails doing real work.”

Yeah, Austin figured that out – a little too late, but no way to fix that now. “So what’s the deal with Ivy?” he asked, as casual as he could manage as they stood side by side, watching people mingle, Christmas music playing quietly through it all.

“I can tell you she’s leaving tomorrow,” Declan said, sobering up. “Ivy hates Long Valley with a passion, and actually, Tiffany and Ezzy play a big part in that. They made her life a living hell growing up. I tried to defend her a few times, but they’re girls. I couldn’t take ‘em out back and punch ‘em.” He shrugged. “Iris tried to stand up for her too, but…Anyway, Ivy left the night of high school graduation and never looked back. Knowing her, she’ll do her best not to come back here for at least another decade, if she can get away with it. Iris practically had to twist her arm off to get her here for their parents’ anniversary party. She’s a California girl, through and through. And the thing is, I’m not sure I blame her.”

Austin nodded, soaking the information in. It was too damn bad, really. She sure was cute, what with her dark red hair and easy smile and curves in all the right places. It would’ve been perfect to take her out on a date or two, maybe even wander on over to the diner where Tiffany was a waitress. He could’ve used her to finally get some breathing room from Tiffany, and Ivy could have gotten her revenge.

But between now and tomorrow? Dammit all, it wasn’t real believable to pretend that he and Ivy had somehow fallen madly in love.

Saying goodbye to Dec, Austin made his way over to the refreshment table to get another cup of mulled apple cider. It was probably a good thing Ivy was leaving, anyway. She was a little too cute and a little too fun to laugh with. He needed to get Tiffany off his back, not find an actual girlfriend.

Austin was single, and with any luck, would stay that way for life. He’d tried falling in love once before.

Never again.

CHAPTER 3

IVY

So warm. She snuggled down deeper under the covers.

But screaming.

There was screaming.

Why is there screaming?

Ivy jackknifed up in bed. Her mom was screaming and crying, the sound muffled through the closed bedroom door. Holy hell! Ivy leaped out of bed and threw on her ratty old bathrobe that she hadn’t worn since high school, yanking her bedroom door open, where she promptly plowed right into her father, who was also tearing down the hallway.

“Oof!” she grunted.

That made it a second time in two days that she’d run into someone. So much for her waitressing skills keeping her light on her toes.

No time to apologize to her dad or laugh about it, though; they untangled themselves and then were running down the hallway and into the living room, the cries of Betty Rae getting louder as they moved. “Help! Oh God, you have to help! Call 911!”

They rounded the corner into the living room and Ivy skittered to a stop, seeing but not understanding. Her mom was dragging Iris’ limp body into the house, covered in blood and melting snow. Iris’ eyes were closed; her pale cheeks a stark contrast to the deep red spreading everywhere. Mom laid her down gently and began rocking back and forth over her, crying and stroking her hair away from her face.

“My baby, oh my baby!” she wept, as the blood and the snow swirled together and dripped onto the tile foyer floor.

Ivy just stood there in shock, staring. How…what…Her brain refused to comprehend what was in front of her.

Somewhere in the distance, she numbly heard her dad barking into the landline, “My daughter! She fell. She was outside. She hit her head and is bleeding everywhere. Yes…okay…Betty!” he shouted, covering up the mouthpiece of the phone. “The dispatcher wants to know if she’s awake or not.”

Her mom shook her head. “I’ve been begging her to wake up, but she isn’t moviinnnnggggg…” She broke back down into sobs, rocking back and forth, cradling Iris’ head against her. “Iris, baby, wake up for Mom. You have to wake up.” The icy winter air curled inside through the open front door, along with snowflakes, still falling endlessly from the sky.

Snow? When did it start snowing? It must’ve started after her parents’ party finished last night. She hated snow. White and cold and endless and…

Ivy’s vision blackened around the edges as the world narrowed. She breathed in through her mouth slowly, trying to quell her panic. Iris needed her. Passing out wouldn’t help anything. Blood had always been Iris’ thing, not Ivy’s, and seeing it everywhere, mixed with the hated snow…

The room went a little darker still. Ivy fought it back. She had to. She could help.

What would Iris do?

Oh, duh!

She forced herself into the kitchen, where she snatched some hand towels out of the drawer. Iris would stop the bleeding. A ten-year-old kid would know to stop the bleeding. Ivy felt like she was swimming through syrup, everything distorted and moving slow.

Her sister needed her, dammit. She could have a panic attack later. As soon as Iris was okay.

She moved back into the living room, the cold air swirling and mixing with the warm air of the house, but it still wasn’t enough and Ivy shivered in her bathrobe, or maybe it was shock settling in. She could be going into shock. She felt shocky. And weird. Her vision was fading in and out with every breath. A distant part of her brain heard the gas heater kick on as she knelt next to Iris, hand towels at the ready.

“Yes, my daughter is putting some towels on her head,” Ivy heard her dad tell the dispatcher and with a grimace, she pushed the first towel down. The red of the blood mixed in with the red of Iris’ hair, making it deeper and more dramatic against her pale skin, which was growing whiter by the moment. Dammit, she was losing too much blood.

Her mom’s tears splashed on Iris’ face as she begged God to save her baby. “She’s a good girl. She loves everyone. You can’t take her away…”

The wail of the ambulance finally made its way into the house and her dad shouted, “Thank you!” to the dispatcher. After a moment, he hung up and rushed over. “Can you feel a pulse?” he demanded.

Her mom nodded. “She’s breathing but John, I can’t get her to wake up!”

Ivy stared down at her beautiful older sister, red hair encrusted in drying blood, the second kitchen towel starting to soak through so Ivy put a third one on and pushed down, trying to staunch the flow. How could she bleed so much and still be alive?

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Iris. I shouldn’t have accused you of inviting Tiffany and Ezzy to the party. I should’ve forced you to move to California with me. There’s no snow in San Francisco. You’d be okay if you lived there. The shivers only got worse as she stared down at the person she’d always wanted to be. If you live through this, I promise to help you move to California. You’ve always taken care of me; it’s time for me to take care of you. Please wake up. I need to tell you how sorry I am. Please…

The ambulance wails were ear-piercing and then hurrying feet crunched through the hated white snow, with more still swirling from the sky.

The EMTs were in the house then, kneeling next to her. One eased Ivy’s grasp from the bloodied towels and with practiced efficiency, the two EMTs loaded her up onto a stretcher, pushing her outside and into the back of the ambulance, talking rapidly in a language that Iris would understand, but Ivy did not. She’d never liked blood. Just one more way that Iris was a better person than her, helping people every day in the hospital; using her nursing skills to save lives.

Ivy stared after the EMTs through the open door, frozen to the floor, as her mom and dad begged the emergency personnel for more information.

“We’re taking her to the Long Valley Hospital. The Life Flight helicopter is on its way and should be landing shortly. We aren’t equipped to take care of this kind of brain injury here, especially with the previous trauma she’s had. We’ll fly her to St Luke’s in Boise from there. There isn’t enough room in the helicopter for any passengers, so you’ll need to drive and meet up with her there.”

Ivy forced herself to her feet, stiff and so very cold. She wasn’t sure if it was from kneeling just inside an open door, letting in the arctic air, or the terror from seeing her sister hurt. She made herself throw the towels away in the kitchen trash, and then scrub her hands clean of the dark and crusty blood. She had to clean up. She had to get dressed. She would go with her parents to Boise, and she would take care of her sister.

Her parents were coming back in, shouting as they hurried to get dressed, and as Ivy slipped a sweatshirt over her head, she suddenly realized that today was the day she was supposed to be going back to California. Her mom was supposed to be driving her to Boise this morning, but not to see her comatose sister in the hospital, but so she could fly back home.

Panic clutched at her again. There was no way she could leave Iris. Not now. Not when her sister needed her. When Iris had originally gotten into her car wreck just over three months ago, Ivy hadn’t been able to afford to fly up to see her, and had been forced to sit on the sidelines as her sister made her slow recovery.

Ivy couldn’t do it again.

Screw her job. Screw her boss. He was going to be angry when he heard the news, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Iris needed her, and this time, Ivy wasn’t going to let her down.

CHAPTER 4

AUSTIN

The clear, bitterly cold air hurt his lungs with every breath, a cloud drifting up from the nostrils of Bob as they plodded along. It was the perfect winter day – cold, bright, and beautiful, ice and snow sparkling as far as the eye could see.

He’d thought about asking Declan to go riding with him this morning, but then decided against it, figuring he was probably spending all of his free time with Iris. After being apart for years, Austin knew it only made sense that his friend would want to spend as much time as possible with her, although it did leave Austin a little lonely.

Too bad Ivy has gone back to California.

Austin shoved that thought away. Ivy was gone, and wouldn’t be back. One moment of staring at each other, almost kissing – what was that even about?! – before that damn Tiffany showed up, did not a relationship make.

Which was fine. Good, even. He didn’t want a relationship. He apparently just had to remind himself of this fact more often in the last four days than he normally had to, was all. Declan was busy with his girlfriend, and Austin was busy with…

Well, he’d figure something out. He was a grown man.

“Busy riding my horse and exercising him,” Austin said aloud, patting Bob on his muscular, sleek neck. Bob neighed quietly and tossed his mane, the moisture from his breath wreathing his stately head, dissipating into nothingness.

It was just then that Austin saw a glint of red through the trees, and sat up straighter in the saddle. He must be losing it. He’d spent so much time forcing himself not to think about Ivy McLain that he’d begun to see her out in the wilds of Idaho.

Bob stepped through the snow, carefully setting down each hoof to make it through the treacherous footing, while Austin kept his eyes trained on the dark red blob of color, growing larger by the moment.

That’s…

That’s really her!

He’d recognize that brilliant red hair anywhere, falling in curly waves over a dark blue jacket. The same dark blue jacket Ivy had been wearing the other night at the party.

He broke into the small clearing to see her perched on a rock, a notepad spread open on her lap as she sketched, staring down at the pad and then up again into the distance. He squinted, trying to figure out what it was she was drawing, when she heard the jingle of Bob’s bridle and turned with a squeal, snapping the notepad shut.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her hand over her chest, staring at him like he’d just descended from an alien spacecraft. He smiled, trying to put her at ease.

“Hey,” he said, swinging down from his horse, patting his dark brown coat on the side for a moment before turning back to Ivy. “What are you doing here?”

Except the words came out almost accusatory. Even he heard it. The words had come out before he could think through them, a rarity in his world. He usually thought through every word, every statement, before he even opened his mouth, but somehow, around Ivy, things just came out.

Sometimes, horribly awkward things, implying shit he didn’t mean.

Her eyebrows snapped together in a glower. “I’ve always come here, way before you moved to town,” she told him pertly. “I’ve been coming here for years. What are you doing here?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could start this conversation over again. Finding her in his favorite thinking spot had rattled him. He needed to get this conversation back on track. “I found it when I first moved here. I like it. The creek is nice during the summer, although it’s frozen solid right now, of course, and the view of the Goldfork Mountains…” He pointed to them, as if she wouldn’t know where in the hell the Goldfork Mountains were, and then rolled his eyes at himself. Ivy grew up in Long Valley. She knew the area better than he did. He did not need to give her a geography lesson.

He wasn’t exactly doing a good job of getting the conversation back on track, something her deepening glower was only reinforcing.

“What are you still doing in Long Valley?” he tried again. “Declan said you were going to leave the day after the party.”

Okay, so that made it worse.

Much worse. In a totally-different-way worse, but that wasn’t exactly a consolation at that moment.

Ivy stood up, tucking her notepad under her arm, and then walked over to Bob, letting him snuffle her hand before she began stroking his long neck. She shot Austin a knowing grin as she petted Bob, letting the silence stretch out between them, obviously picking up on the implication that Austin had been asking Declan about her, and reveling in it.

Dammit! That was not what he’d wanted to tell her. It was stalkerish and weird, and he didn’t want her to know that he’d been that interested after their literal run-in with each other.

He fished around for something to say, someway to get himself out of this pickle without making it even worse, something he seemed completely incapable of today, when she finally took pity on him. “I wish I could say it was a good thing that I’m still here.” She paused, her breath disappearing in a cloud around her head, her smile fading. “Iris is going to be at St. Luke’s for at least another week, though.”

He sucked in a shocked breath, surprised to hear it. Why hadn’t Declan said anything to him?

They were close enough now for him to see the dark flecks in her otherwise brilliant blue eyes, and the dark bags under them, telling of her exhaustion. He wouldn’t exactly consider himself to be an expert on Ivy, but even he could see that she looked ready to drop.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I hadn’t heard.”

“The gossip chain here in Long Valley must really be broken then,” Ivy said with a small laugh. “Usually, this kind of thing gets around town, almost before it happens. Somehow, Sawyer is constantly breaking the time-space continuum, and yet, no scientists have shown up to study this phenomenon.”

They both laughed for just a moment at that, and then quickly sobered up. It felt irreverent to laugh just then.

“So, what happened to Iris? Did she get into another car wreck?” He hadn’t met her before the wreck, of course, although while he and Declan were college roommates up at the University of Idaho, he’d sure heard a lot about her. When they’d first met after Iris moved back to town, Austin had looked her over discreetly, searching for her angel wings. Declan had made her seem one step short of perfection, and although Austin had thought her plenty nice, she wasn’t…

Well, she wasn’t Ivy, that was for sure. Something about Ivy made his heart skip a beat in his chest, an altogether unexpected and not entirely desired reaction.

“No, no car wreck, thank God. Although the whole thing happened because of that.” Bob whinnied and nudged Ivy’s hand, obviously growing discontented at the amount of attention he was getting from her, which made Austin inwardly roll his eyes. Bob always was a glutton for love. Unlike other horses that could take it or leave it, Bob lived for it. Ivy absentmindedly began stroking him again, her eyes focused off in the distance. “Mom found her outside. Iris had thought she ought to clean off her own front steps after that snowstorm the night of my parents’ party. I swear, her stubbornness is going to get her killed.”

She focused back on him, a small smile on her lips. “We McLains excel at a lot of things, but stubbornness is truly our crowning achievement.”

A bark of laughter tore out of him at that. He guessed it was a real good thing that Iris had hooked up with Declan, then, because he had never met someone more stubborn than Declan. Not even his own parents, and that was saying something.

“So when are you heading back to California?” he asked, and she cocked an eyebrow at him. He cursed inwardly again. She hadn’t told him she lived in California; they hadn’t had enough time to get that far during their one and only encounter.

“You spy a lot on girls you meet at anniversary parties?” she asked dryly, but then spared him from coming up with a suitable response. Which was good, because he had none. “I’ll be here another couple of days. I hadn’t planned on that originally, something that you seem to already know—”

He coughed, his cheeks turning red.

The cold was getting to him. That was it. He did not blush, so no other explanation made sense.

“—but since I’ve been here this long, why not stay a little longer, you know? I want to make sure Iris is okay before I head back home.”

Austin nodded, his mind going a million miles a minute. If she was staying on a little longer, well…

“While you’re here in town, want to go out sometime?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt like an idiot. She probably had a boyfriend back in California. As beautiful as she was, she probably had ten boyfriends back in California. She wouldn’t want to hang out with him.

And yet, she didn’t laugh him off, or ridicule the idea. She didn’t even gently let him down. Instead, she just cocked her head to the side and asked contemplatively, “And if I said yes, where would you take me?”

Oh, shit.

Since he hadn’t exactly planned on asking her out, he most certainly didn’t have a specific place in mind. “Somewhere” wasn’t going to work as an answer. He scrambled, desperate for any idea.

Any at all.

“The bells concert!” he said triumphantly, thrilled that his brain had come up with something better than, “Ummmm…” which was originally all that it was supplying him with. “The annual bells concert at the Methodist Church. I didn’t get to go the last couple of years, and I’d love to have someone to attend with me.”

The truth was, it was awkward as hell to go out to public events like concerts by himself, and going with Declan would seem too much like they were dating, which would send all sorts of wrong signals to this tiny mountain town. So, he’d stayed away from pretty much every public event in Long Valley since he’d moved there, despite the fact that this left him lonely most nights.

Which he liked. Of course. He didn’t want to find a girlfriend. He was happy being alone.

Somehow, the idea of going to the bells concert with Ivy made him even happier, though.

She stood there for a long while, staring at him, her eyes inscrutable, until she finally nodded. “Okay,” she said softly.

“Okay,” he repeated, half stunned. He’d somehow expected her to say no, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was almost as surprised by her answer as he was.

He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, so he swung up on Bob to ride away before she could change her mind. “See you at 6:30 at your parents’ house?” When she nodded her assent, he wheeled Bob around and headed back out of the clearing, a tuneless whistle echoing through the snowy forest as he made his way back to the trailhead.

Today was turning out to be a pretty damn good day.

CHAPTER 5

IVY

Today was turning out to be a horrible day. Ivy paced the confines of her childhood bedroom, feeling the walls closing in on her.

First, she’d been drawing the Goldfork Mountains, and she just didn’t do that kind of thing. She’d made it a point years ago not to draw landscapes, and certainly not to draw Idaho landscapes. She was a California girl, dammit, and did her best to pretend she’d never even heard of Idaho most days.

But then, on top of that slip-up, she’d said yes to Austin’s offer to go to the bells concert, a concert she’d spent most of her teenage years doing her best to avoid.

The last time she’d gone was in the 9th grade. Tiffany and Ezzy had sat behind her and had pulled her hair anytime they thought no one was looking. She’d turned around and glared at them, but they’d simply send her angelic stares, shrugging their shoulders dramatically. She hadn’t wanted to whine to her parents – what kind of a baby whined to their parents about someone pulling their hair – so she’d suffered through the concert quietly.

She always mysteriously had a headache the night of the bells concert after that.

Going back there was…

She shivered, feeling a little ill at the thought. That night had been the start of the bullying – Tiffany and Ezzy had never been best buds with her, and they’d teased her a few times previously, but that night was when it really began, and didn’t stop until she walked off the auditorium stage the night of graduation.

They were, in a roundabout way, the reason why she was in the predicament she was in. If she hadn’t pushed herself to be successful, or at least appear to—

She heard thumping up in the attic, sidetracking her from her thoughts. Was her dad cleaning the attic? She smiled sadly to herself. That was so like her dad – keeping himself busy while waiting for something useful to do. He wasn’t one to sit around, waiting for the world to come to him.

If he couldn’t fix Iris and make her all better, well dammit, he’d clean out the attic.

She wandered out into the hallway, working her way around the fold-down ladder, extending from the ceiling. She could see dust motes dancing in the air of the attic. Truthfully, it was probably a disaster up there, and deserved to be cleaned, whether or not Iris was in the hospital.

“Iv—! Oh hi, there you are,” he said, spotting her as he peered down through the opening. “Look at what I found.” He extended out a dusty plastic container to her, and she climbed up onto the lowest rung of the ladder so she could grab it. “Your art supplies from high school,” he proudly announced, as if she couldn’t already tell what it was she was holding.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said, feeling a little choked up at the sight. She cleared her throat. She looked up at him, peering down through the attic door opening, cobwebs stuck in his hair and spread across his shirt, giving him the appearance of having lived in – or at least decorated – a haunted house. She smiled a little. “Hey, do you think it’d be okay if I went back to Boise tomorrow?”

When Iris had first woken up in the hospital, she’d been frantic with worry about not telling Declan she was there. She’d become so agitated, the head nurse had told the McLains that they were only allowed to have one visitor in the room at a time, so they’d have to decide among them who that’d be.

Mom had won that prize, of course, and hadn’t left Iris’ side since then. Dad and Ivy had driven back to Sawyer to wait the doctors out. It had been four days – surely they’d allow someone else in there by now.

“Yeah, the doctor told your mom that we can begin having two visitors starting tomorrow. After I find Iris’ teddy bear, I was going to drive over there and spell your momma so she could come back home and sleep in a real bed tonight. Tomorrow, though, I know she’ll want to come back. You could hitch a ride with her then.”

Ivy had to hide her laugh at the thought of Iris getting her teddy bear from childhood delivered to her at the hospital. It was sweet of her dad to think of it, although Iris, at age 35, was a little old for stuffed animals.

It made him feel useful, though, and that was what mattered.

“Thanks for the supplies, Dad. Oh, and I’m going to be going to the bells concert tonight over at the Methodist Church.” She tried to slip it in there casually, as if it was no big deal, but of course, her dad wasn’t fooled in the slightest.

“Are you going with someone in particular?”

She shifted the heavy box to her other hip, trying to ignore the fact that she was 32 years old and having to report her dating activities to her father.

This is why she could never move back in with her parents, no matter how poor she became.

Also, why did she have to have this conversation while her father was hanging out above her in the ceiling? Her neck was really starting to cramp up. She rolled it side to side as she mumbled, “Austin Bishop.” She looked back up at her dad. “He was at the party. You’ve met him?”

“Oh, the new extension agent? He took over after Mr. Snow retired. Nice kid.”

Ivy did roll her eyes at that. Austin looked about her age, although she hadn’t actually quizzed him on the topic. Regardless, he was a little old to be referred to as a “kid.” But, her dad would always consider someone her age to be a child, no matter what.

Something she was well aware of.

“Well anyway, he invited me and I thought it’d be fun to go. Something to do to keep my mind off…things,” she ended vaguely, but her dad knew what she meant.

That comment didn’t need any clarification. Not right now.

He nodded. “Does this mean that you’re not going to be struck by a sudden headache right before the concert?”

She gaped up at him in surprise. “Dad!” she choked out through her laughter, and he just grinned down at her and shrugged.

“Just because I’m your dad doesn’t mean I’m completely unobservant, despite what your teenage soul probably thought. Was it those two girls?”

Ivy’s breath caught and she just stared at him, the laughter gone. He’d known? She’d tried so hard to hide all of that from her parents. Pride had demanded that she had. “Yeah,” she said softly.

“I never knew what to do about them,” he admitted. “I wish I could’ve…” His voice trailed off into nothingness, and then he harrumphed his way back onto stable ground. Discussing feelings was never her father’s strong suit. “Well anyway, I need to find that teddy bear so I can drive to Boise before it gets too dark outside.” He disappeared from view, heading back into the depths of the attic.

Ivy clutched the art supplies box to her chest, feeling a small smile spread across her face. Not having any access to art, except paper and pencil, had been one of the tougher parts about this visit to Idaho, and that was saying something. She hadn’t expected to be gone this long, or she would’ve figured out how to pack the supplies in, even if it’d meant leaving a pair of shoes behind or something.

But now…

She headed back into her bedroom and dropped the box on the bed, where she unsnapped the lockdown handles and pulled the lid off to stare down in wonderment. She’d been such a snob as a kid. She’d been so sure that she’d have amazing, top-quality art supplies when she went off to college, and thus hadn’t packed any of her high school art supplies. She hadn’t wanted to taint her future by using inferior products.

After paying rent and tuition and books, though, she’d quickly abandoned her lofty (read: snotty) dreams and went right back to using the same brands she always had. She’d learned that she didn’t need $50 paintbrushes to make a beautiful art piece.

She pulled the items out one by one – the oils, the trays, the brushes, even a small unused canvas – and grinned to herself. She needed to do something while in Long Valley to keep herself sane. Other than go on pointless dates with handsome cowboys, of course.

Hold on…

Her hands froze over a well-worn eraser.

Why is Austin asking me out on a date?

Somehow, among everything else, Ivy hadn’t thought this through, but duh – Austin already had a girlfriend. Tiffany had made that very, very clear the night of her parents’ party. Although the irony of Austin cheating on Tiffany with Ivy would be rich indeed, Ivy wasn’t willing to be the third part of that triangle.

Let Austin cheat on his girlfriend with some other unsuspecting soul. Ivy McLain wasn’t going to have anything to do with it.

She felt the anger build up in her. Cheating, lying asshole. He deserved Tiffany. The pair would make each other very, very happy.

She grabbed her cell phone, ready to dash off an angry text message, telling Austin that he could stuff this date where the sun don’t shine, as her father would put it, when she stopped, staring at her phone in frustration. Not only had she failed to realize that she was about to help Austin become a cheater, she’d also failed to get his number.

Which meant she’d just have to wait to tell him off in person. Well, good. And while she was at it, she could inform him of her thoughts about his taste in women. Which, aside from wanting to go on a date with her, of course, was downright atrocious.

“Hey Iv, I’m heading out,” her dad said at her bedroom door, holding up Iris’ beloved teddy bear as evidence of his success. “I’ll see you tomorrow – have fun at the concert, eh?”

She nodded, forcing a smile onto her face. Her dad had enough to worry about. He didn’t need to worry about the fact that his daughter was going to miss yet another bells concert for yet another awful reason. His footsteps faded as he headed out.

Ivy turned to face her bed again, and all of her art supplies. It was time to keep herself occupied. Too busy to think was exactly what she needed right now. She could face reality later.

CHAPTER 6

AUSTIN

Austin pulled up in front of the McLain house, his stomach strangely rumbly and unsettled. It wasn’t exactly happy about this state of affairs, and he stared down at it for a moment, unsure of what to attribute this case of nerves to. He was going on a date with Ivy to get Tiffany off his back. Ivy could exact revenge on Tiffany by going out with the one guy Tiffany had been gunning after for months. All would be well with the world.

Feelings, or stomach linings for that matter, need not be involved.

He jumped out of his truck and crunched through the snow, a few lackadaisical flakes still drifting down from the sky. The passing storm gave off the impression that it couldn’t be bothered to put on a real show, something that he wasn’t sure he blamed it for. It was cold. It was hard to do anything with much enthusiasm.

He knocked on the door and then stood back, an expectant smile on his face. At least going to the Methodist Church could be done with great enthusiasm. He’d always loved Christmas music, so a whole concert, played by bells, dedicated to holiday tunes…it didn’t get much better than that. He was right on time, and if they hurried, he figured they’d be able to get great seats. It was going to be a fun ni—

“You!” Ivy shouted angrily, even before she got the front door completely open. He stared at her, wide-eyed. She had paint streaked across her nose, a bit in her hair, and seemed to be in the process of spreading it around even more liberally as she shook her paintbrush at him. “How dare you!”

She slammed the door in his face. He stared at it. She yanked it open. “I’m not letting you off that easy!” she announced angrily. “Get in here so I can yell at you properly, without letting all of the warm air out.”

He hesitated. That offer wasn’t exactly inviting. He could make a run for the truck. An irate Ivy wasn’t a fun sight to behold, especially when that anger was directed at him, but he finally decided that the curiosity would kill him. He had to know who the hell pissed in her Cheerios that morning.

Then he’d make a run for the truck, and never come back.

Poor Declan. These McLain girls look sweet on the surface, but…

He sidled past her and her wildly arcing paintbrush, and into the house. She slammed the door and rounded on him, shaking the brush with every step as she advanced.

“You asshole!” she said, her face roughly the same color as her hair. “You would take me out to the concert when you already have a girlfriend? I can’t believe you. Did you think that just because I’m from San Francisco, it’s okay to take me out for a night on the town and just hope that your girlfriend never hears about it? Well, even if you have atrocious taste in women, that’s on you, not me. I’m not going to help you be a cheater, Mr. I’m-Just-An-Aww-Shucks Cowboy. I’m not fooled by that…that…face!” She jabbed the paintbrush at him, almost whacking said face, and he darted out of range at the last moment.

They stared at each other, her breathing heavily as she glowered, and then…he couldn’t help it. He busted up laughing.

“What are you laughing about?” she demanded, jamming her hands down onto her hips.

He wiped the tears from his eyes. “You. The paintbrush.” He doubled over laughing again. He could hear the rat-a-tap-tap of her foot on the tile floor, obviously not impressed by his reaction. He took a few deep breaths and straightened up. She was angry, and he wasn’t helping matters by laughing. Although he imagined he’d remember the sight of Ivy swinging a paint brush around in the air, jabbing it like a rapier, for the rest of his life.

“I’m guessing you’re talking about Tiffany?” he asked, once he’d managed to become serious again.

She nodded, just once, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. He held his hands up beseechingly.

“So I know what Tiffany made it seem like,” he said slowly, quietly. “The night of the party, right?” Ivy nodded again. “She and I are not a thing, no matter what she may think or hope for. We’ve gone on one date, and I haven’t been able to get rid of her since. I’m sorry she made you believe that I would be a cheater, but I promise, there’s nothing between us.”

She stared at him, consideringly for a moment, and then inspiration struck. He grinned in triumph. “Hey, you like Declan, right?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes, he’s just an ass who left my sister fifteen years ago without explanation and broke her heart, something I had to help her get over.”

Oh. That didn’t exactly go how he’d expected it to. Telling her that Declan would never be best friends with an asshole was not going to help his case.

Time to change tactics.

“Listen, I’m from up north – Coeur d’Alene, up in the panhandle. I moved here to become the extension agent, and I only knew Declan when I rolled into town. We’d been roommates for a year up at the U of I, and he was the one to suggest that I apply for the extension agent position when Mr. Snow retired.

“Anyway, the first day I was in town, I met Tiffany down at the diner. She was my waitress. She asked me to hang out with her at the rodeo, I agreed, and she’s been clinging tighter to me than ivy growing up a brick wall ever since.” He studied her face for a moment, which was open and listening, but she hadn’t made a decision. Not yet.

He drew in a deep breath. Here goes nothing. He hadn’t planned on bringing this up with Ivy, since it was hard to know how a girl would take news like this, but he only had one card left to play. It was time to play it and hope for the best. “Truthfully, I was thinking you might be up for helping me out with this. Declan mentioned that Tiffany and you didn’t exactly get along in high school.”

Ivy’s pinched face at that comment told him all he needed to know. “So,” he continued urgently, “if you go to the concert with me, she’s really going to be pissed. I figure, it’s great revenge, right?”

Ivy continued to study his face for a moment, and then a small smile broke out on her face, which quickly spread into a huge grin. “That, sir, is a terrific idea. I like how you think!” She laughed, leaning forward and popping a quick kiss on his cheek. “I need to go get changed and ready. I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared up the hallway to what he assumed was her bedroom. He stared down the dark corridor, rubbing his cheek idly, the skin burning where her lips had touched.

Well, he was right about one thing: A date with Ivy definitely wasn’t going to be boring.

She soon reappeared, the liberal sprinklings of paint gone. She’d put on a loose sweater that draped across her body, belted into place just below a very generous chest, with stretchy jeans disappearing into knee-high boots. He wished for a moment that he could get a better view of her ass, but decided, as he watched her swaying hips from behind as they headed to his truck, that it was probably for the best that he couldn’t. He needed to be decent for this trip to a church, no matter what his brain wanted.

They made their way to his diesel truck that he’d left running while inside. It was too cold to turn his truck on and off, plus he’d need it to stay warm long enough to get through the concert without freezing up. Just this quick jaunt from the front door to the truck had bitter cold seeping into his bones, and he heard a happy sigh of relief from her as he helped Ivy up into the warmth of the truck. Her dark blue jacket looked pretty thin, and she didn’t seem to own gloves, or at least wasn’t disposed to wearing them. It was too damn cold outside to not be wearing gloves, in his humble opinion.

She probably didn’t want to wear them because they weren’t fashionable, or some other inane reason.

Girls were so weird sometimes.

He kept that thought to himself, instead just heading towards the church that was only a couple of blocks away. Even before they pulled into the parking lot, he could hear the Christmas music spilling out of it, the warm light and stained glass windows drawing distorted, gorgeous designs on the ground. He pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine, the sudden silence after the loud rumble feeling almost deafening. “You ready?” he asked her.

She was wringing her hands together, looking as if she were debating between bolting for home or throwing up, but she nodded. Somewhere between home and here, she’d had time to think about their plan, and realized that it meant seeing Tiffany, which probably wasn’t her favorite activity in the world. Before he could offer to take her back home, though, she responded.

“I’m ready,” she said. Her voice wasn’t exactly steady, but he decided not to mention how unconvincing she sounded, and instead just helped her out of the truck. Once her feet were on the snowy ground, she looked up at him, her soft blue eyes large enough to drown in, and he grinned down at her, trying to project his confidence onto her.

“Let’s give ‘em a show,” he said softly in her ear, and then tucked her hand into his arm as they strolled towards the doors of the church. He felt her arm tremble in his, so he tucked it closer against his side.

He wondered if she’d fought him so hard on going to the concert because not-so-deep-down inside, she really didn’t want to go. Ivy had worked hard to wipe her feet clean of this town, and never come back. He’d asked her out because she was cute and fun and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her for four days and he needed some way of getting Tiffany off his back, but at no point had he thought about what she wanted or needed, which pretty much made him a Class A asshole.

He needed to apologize, but maybe not in the midst of a community concert. He’d apologize afterwards, while driving her home.

To be willing to face a town that had made her life miserable for years on end…

Despite her trembling, or maybe because of it, Austin couldn’t help but be impressed by her backbone. She was damn brave, whether or not she realized it.

They walked up the front steps and into the foyer of the church, the welcoming warmth of the building enveloping them like a fleece blanket next to a roaring fire. Her trembling only increased, though.

“We can go home,” he whispered into her ear, wanting to give her one last chance to make a run for the door. He couldn’t help but draw in her smell as he leaned close, letting it wash over him. Cinnamon and chocolate – she smelled like the best kind of dessert. How did she make her hair smell like chocolate?

Before he could blurt out that question though, which would’ve been horrifying, she responded, saving him from complete embarrassment. “I’m fine,” she whispered back. “Just don’t let go of my arm.”

That was something he was happy to oblige her on, and hugged it tighter against his side.

The concert was non-denominational – simply a community event that happened to be held in the Methodist Church – and so no pastor greeted them upon their entrance, although Austin saw a few farmers from around the valley that he’d worked with over the past two years in the audience. His gaze swept the chapel, looking for Tiffany or Ezzy, and finally he blew out a breath at the same time that Ivy relaxed.

They weren’t there. That meant that the purpose of the date was moot, of course – they could just turn around and go home.

But…he didn’t want to. He wanted to enjoy an evening out on the town with a beautiful woman, whether or not that date had a hidden reason for happening.

So instead of heading for the front doors like they really should have, he guided her towards a mostly empty bench where she settled against his side as he casually draped his arm across the back of the wooden pew. They fit together, her soft curves melding against his side.

He wasn’t quite sure what to think about that. None of this was what he’d planned, and yet…it felt right.

Before he could ponder that thought further, the music piping through the speakers dropped off, and a conductor strode up onto the front dais to the podium. After welcoming them out to the 57th Long Valley Bells Concert, the musicians began filing in from either side of the church, and up to rows of tables already marching in lines across the front of the chapel. Huge bells as big as watermelons down to tiny bells the size of his thumb all gleamed in the Christmas twinkle lights and candles occupying every space possible.

As the chandeliers above dimmed, leaving the twinkling lights and flickering candles to provide most of the light, the musicians started out with a rousing rendition of Carol of the Bells, the notes echoing from the arched ceiling, swirling and surrounding them with the gorgeous sound. Ivy turned and grinned up at him, joy rolling off her in waves, and he snuggled her closer to his side. The fun of the moment was contagious, and he couldn’t help but revel in it.

Even though absolutely none of this evening was going to plan, Austin found himself on his feet, clapping enthusiastically as the musicians took bow after bow at the end of the concert. He couldn’t contain the grin that seemed permanently attached to his face. He looked down at Ivy, who was grinning back just as widely, and felt his heart thump a little harder than normal.

That felt…weird. All tingly and shit.

He put his arm around her and guided her towards the foyer of the church, joining the stream of people headed the same direction. He decided that he needed to watch what he ate for lunch. Those jalapeños were causing heartburn. He felt a little young to need to watch his diet, but obviously something had gone wrong between his fajitas at lunch and now.

Because it couldn’t be anything more than that.

CHAPTER 7

IVY

Ivy’s waist tingled where it was pressed up against Austin, as they followed the flow of the crowd back into the foyer. The bells choir had put out refreshments – coffee, hot cocoa, apple cider, and some homemade donuts – and following her nose, Ivy decided to head that direction instead of out the front doors. Those donuts looked way too delicious to pass up.

After she and Austin picked out cups of coffee and donuts, though, she quickly realized her mistake. More than a few members of the community were openly eyeing them, and the same question was written on every person’s face – was Ivy dating Austin? Had Ivy moved back to Long Valley? Had Ivy given up on her dream of becoming a famous artist and had slunk back home with her tail stuck between her legs?

She felt the burning desire to pull a chair over from the corner, stand on it, clear her throat, and announce to the world that she and Austin were not dating; they were simply attending the same concert in close proximity to each other.

Unless the story was being retold to Tiffany and Ezzy, in which case Austin was madly in love with her.

She thought back to leaning against his side as the music had swirled around them, his rock-hard muscular abs the perfect balance to her flabby, fat self, and decided that perhaps making such an announcement wouldn’t be a grand idea, mostly because she wasn’t sure she could make it sound convincing.

She’d enjoyed leaning against his side, dammit. She’d enjoyed having his arm around her shoulders as they’d sat there. It made her sound like she was in junior high all over again – excited about nothing but snuggling with a boy – but she couldn’t seem to help it.

He looked down at her, obviously noticing the same number of stares that she had, and said, “Ready to head out?” in a jovial-if-overly-loud tone of voice. He was trying to save her from embarrassment, which was…sweet.

Really sweet.

Unfortunately, he’d caught her mid-bite into the donut, jelly oozing out the sides, and so she couldn’t do anything more than just nod her agreement.

She really should stop eating jelly donuts. They were just so damn good.

A couple of older farmers in the area said their goodbyes to Austin on the way out of the church, but no one said anything to her. Hell, they might not have even recognized her. It’d been years since she’d been back in Long Valley.

Ugh. Who was she kidding? She was Ivy McLain, one of the two McLain girls in town, and her brilliant red hair, even more vibrant in color than Iris’, was not exactly easy to miss.

Ivy licked her fingers clean as they made their way back to the truck, trying to get the sticky sugary wonder that was Mrs. Frank’s homemade donuts off her fingers, when she heard Austin clearing his throat. She looked up and caught a strangled look of panic? Lust? flitting across his face before it was replaced by a smile. It was so fast, she wasn’t sure if she’d even seen it, or if she’d just imagined it. She studied his face for a moment longer and then decided that since the lighting wasn’t so great in the oversized parking lot, she was probably just seeing things.

After he helped her into the truck, he hurried around to his side, but instead of heading home, he started driving the streets of Sawyer.

“I thought you’d want to get out of there,” he said as way of explanation, as he turned down another street bedecked with Christmas lights. There went the house of her sixth grade crush. Oh, and there was her high school debate teacher’s house.

It was so weird being back in Sawyer. Every street was filled to the brim with…memories. She wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or bad, although she was heavily leaning in the direction of bad.

Memories of Sawyer were pretty much never good.

She realized she’d been silent too long. “Yeah,” she said quickly, trying to fill the hole created by her wandering mind. “I haven’t been home in a while, so I’m sure a couple of people were wondering what I was doing there.” Not only that, but what I was doing there with you.

She kept that thought to herself. If Austin hadn’t yet noticed that she wasn’t the most gorgeous girl in town, she wasn’t about to inform him of the need for glasses.

“So what do you do in California?” Austin asked.

Ivy felt a bit of panic lodge itself in her throat. Wait tables while pretending to be a successful artist. Somehow, she was pretty sure that wasn’t a great answer, so she swallowed it whole. “I went to the California College of the Arts, where I got my Bachelors of Fine Arts degree in Painting and Drawing,” she said with an overly cheerful grin. “Iris was always the one with the athletic talent, while I was the artistic one. Iris is lucky if she can pull off a stick-figure drawing, which is only fair. I have to beat her at something, right?”

At the genuine chuckle from Austin, Ivy felt her stomach unclench just a smidge. She’d spent her entire life trying to live up to Iris’ example, and had failed on every count. Not as tall, not as pretty, not as skinny, not as athletic, not as well loved by every person who met her…

Compared to her ultra-perfect sister, Ivy was pretty much a failure. Except when it came to art. It was a world where she’d always excelled.

Until she actually had to pay her rent with her work, at which point she was once again a failure.

She pushed that thought away. No reason to focus on that. Not tonight.

“When did you decide that you wanted to be an artist?” Austin asked as they turned down yet another wintry street. This one had a home where they’d gone all out, complete with a Nativity Scene made of blow-up dolls. Ivy bit back her grin at the sight. Somehow, Baby Jesus being represented by a blob of inflated plastic just didn’t fit her idea of the Christmas season, but she obviously had different views than the owner of 437 Oak Street.

“The first time I won a coloring contest. The Shop ’N Go holds one every year, and I won my division when I was a kindergartener. I won my division every year until I graduated from high school. It started out with a prize for a candy bar of my choice, and worked its way up until I got a $250 scholarship when I was a senior in high school. At the time, I really thought $250 was a ton of money and was going to get me somewhere. It wasn’t until I got to San Francisco and enrolled in my classes that I realized that it only barely covered one textbook.”

Austin looked at her and grinned. “I’m happy to hear that colleges are just as expensive in California as they are in North Idaho,” he said dryly. “I’d hate to hear I overpaid for my secondary education.”

They laughed together, the happiness rushing through her chest as she grinned back at him. Ever since high school, she’d hated cowboys. They were assholes who broke her heart and made fun of her to other students. They were also dumb hicks who couldn’t count unless they removed their boots and socks first.

But talking to Austin…he was this totally different creature from every other cowboy she’d ever met. He didn’t chew tobacco or say “ain’t” or…

Kiss girls under bleachers while his girlfriend stupidly waited for him to come sit next to her to watch a football game.

Her eyes searched his face. Well, maybe he did. Maybe he did all of those things, and she just hadn’t seen that side of him yet. It wasn’t like she’d spent years in his company or something. She was being awfully naïve, simply believing that he was a good guy who wouldn’t pull that kind of stunt because she wanted it to be true.

What kind of proof did she have to back that belief up? The fact that he was adorable when he smiled?

That wasn’t proof. That was her hormones talking.

That was nothing but wishful thinking.

“So what kind of artwork do you do?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. “Paint? Sculpt? Draw?”

“Oil paints,” she said, “although I always sketch out what I’m going to do beforehand. I tend to paint abstract expressionism, which is all the rage down in Cali right now.”

And then he was asking her questions and she was answering, and she realized how much fun it was to talk about art with a novice, who didn’t have any preconceived notions about what was the best kind of art, or the most sophisticated kind of art. It was such a different way of looking at art from what she was used to, what between her art teachers at college and the art gallery owners she’d finally managed to make friends with, all of whom were focused on the latest trends, the biggest names.

Austin had an earthy way of looking at art that was…unpretentious. She started laughing at one point. “I bet you think that antlers are a perfectly valid decorating style, don’t you?” she asked in a half-accusatory tone of voice.

He grinned over at her. “Have you been peeking in my living room window while I was sleeping?” he demanded. “There’s a four-point right over my couch that all the guys down at Frank’s Feed are jealous of.”

She burst out laughing. “I bet they are…”

He pulled to a stop and Ivy blinked, realizing that he’d made his way to her home when she hadn’t been paying attention. He hurried around to the passenger side of the truck and helped her down, tucking her arm in his as they wound their way towards the dark front door. She shoved her other hand deep into her pocket, wishing for the hundredth time that she’d thought to bring her gloves with her from California. Not that they would be a lot of use in this weather, since they were more for show than function, but they would’ve done some good in this sub-zero weather she’d inexplicably found herself in.

They reached the front steps, lit only by a string of Christmas lights marching across the roofline of the house, and Ivy paused. Was he going to kiss her? Hug her? Tell her to have a good life and drive off into the night?

He pulled her against him and hugged her tight. “Goodnight, Ivy,” he said softly into her hair. “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”

And then he was gone, crunching his way back to his truck, and she was left alone on her parents’ front doorstep, staring after him, uncertain if she was happy or sad that he hadn’t taken a chance and kissed her.

It was probably for the best, but a part of her still wished for something more.

CHAPTER 8

AUSTIN

He climbed into his truck and settled back against the leather seat, staring out into the darkness, cut through by his headlights. Small flakes continued to drift down through the beams of light trying so valiantly to penetrate the night.

“Austin Bishop, you’re an idiot,” he said out loud. When he’d seen her lick her fingers clean of the sugar and jam from the donuts, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever breathe again. It had to be the most innocently erotic thing he’d ever seen in his life. He’d wanted to drive her around after that, if only to calm his libido down before dropping her off at home. He wasn’t sure if he could bring her to within spitting distance of her bed without seriously messing something up otherwise.

And sleeping with Ivy McLain would seriously mess something up. She was probably on her way back to California in the morning, or maybe even the day after that, but either way, it didn’t matter. He was staying here. Having her and then losing her would be worse than never having her at all.

It was fun to go on a date with her. It was a blast, actually. Her enthusiasm when it came to art, her intelligence, her beauty, her laugh…

She was a lethal combination, a drug he couldn’t let into his system. He’d tried loving a woman before. He’d loved her for years, and look at how that’d turned out.

No, it was best that he dropped Ivy off and drove away. Away from the temptation, away from her, away from a huge mistake.

Austin was many things, but a player wasn’t one of them. A one-night stand wasn’t his style.

He put his hand on the gear shift and pushed in the clutch, throwing his truck into reverse.

It was time to go home.

CHAPTER 9

IVY

Ivy settled down further into the couch with a groan, wrapping her hands around her mug of coffee. She was exhausted. Anyone who’d spent two days talking sense into Iris would be exhausted.

Her sister put the stubborn in McLain.

Huh. Okay, so that didn’t make much sense. She sighed and took another sip of her coffee. She obviously needed all the help she could get.

The good news was, after two days of beating on the thick skull that was Iris McLain’s head, Ivy and her mom had finally convinced her that it was best to tell Declan the truth. The whole truth. Even the part about how she didn’t think she could take care of kids. And the part where medical coding from home was slowly making her blind. Dr. Mor, the local optometrist, had told Iris to either stop coding, or get ready to use a cane and a seeing-eye dog for the rest of her life.

Yeah, all of it.

Ivy wasn’t always the biggest Declan fan – him leaving her sister for fifteen years without explanation, forcing Ivy to help clean up the mess he’d left behind didn’t exactly endear her to him – but…the night of Iris’ fall? He’d come to the hospital, petrified. Upset beyond anything she’d ever seen. Declan was normally the most mellow, laid-back human on the face of the planet. A peacemaker to the extreme. She’d heard through the grapevine that he’d gotten punched more than once when he’d thrown himself between his two warring brothers, stopping a fight with his face, and she had no problems at all believing that story.

On a normal day, he made Gandhi look like a warmonger.

That night at the hospital, though…

He’d been torn to pieces by what had happened, and by the fact that no one had told him anything. It’d been Iris’ call, of course – she’d been the one to insist that no one say a word to him. In fact, Ivy still didn’t know how he knew, other than the gossip chain that was Long Valley.

Seeing him in the hospital that night had told Ivy what she needed to know – that he truly did love Iris. Even if they were both too stubborn to admit it, those two were meant to be together.

So, after two days of arguing with Iris, Ivy had finally convinced her of that fact too, which was nothing short of a Christmas miracle, at least in Ivy’s eyes.

Speaking of Christmas…

She pulled her phone out and reread the form email from the airline that they’d sent her after she’d called to cancel her flight back to California. The employee had tried to talk to her at the time and warn her about fees and such, but Ivy had been so upset, she hadn’t paid much attention.

Any attention, really.

But now…

She scrolled down through the email, dread growing in her stomach. When she’d originally booked her flight up to Idaho, she’d skipped the trip insurance option because it was just one more fee that the airlines liked to tack onto flight prices, and she’d barely been able to afford the base ticket price.

In hindsight, not the most brilliant choice she’d ever made.

The cost of moving her return ticket to another date was almost as much as it would cost to simply buy another ticket. The dread becoming thicker by the moment, she flipped over to the airline app and began scrolling through one-way tickets from Boise to Sacramento going out in the next week.

Thousands. It would cost thousands of dollars.

She began entering in dates further and further away. After Christmas. After New Year’s. Finally, she hit dates in the second week of January that were more reasonable, comparatively speaking, of course.

By that point, though, she wouldn’t be able to afford even the cheaper ticket price. Her boss, Barry, had let her take the weekend off for her parents’ wedding anniversary, after she’d pinky sworn that she’d be back before the rush for the holidays really hit. She’d been booked solid on the calendar in the diner’s kitchen until after New Year’s.

When Iris had fallen and hurt herself again, she’d texted Barry and pleaded for another week, and he’d begrudgingly given it to her. As the restaurant manager, his focus was on fully staffing the diner for the holiday rush, not on her personal life. Or anyone’s personal life. He wasn’t exactly well-known for having a heart of gold.

But now…

She wouldn’t be able to fly back for a little over a month. Which meant no income that whole time. Which meant no job when she did return, because Barry absolutely wouldn’t forgive her for being gone that long. Which meant no apartment to return to, because how on earth would she pay January’s rent without a paycheck from December?

She stared at her phone, no longer registering anything as the hot tears welled up and then began dripping down her face. Someday, her parents were going to catch onto the fact that their darling younger daughter was not, in fact, going back to California and had, in fact, moved herself right back into their house. They would want to know why. Which means she’d have to fess up to years of white lies and gray lies, and yes, some outright black lies.

Ivy was pretty sure she’d be willing to do almost anything to keep from having to do that, but what that “anything” consisted of, she couldn’t begin to guess. The easiest route would be to get a job as a waitress in Sawyer at Betty’s Diner, except:

a) Tiffany worked at that diner, which automatically made it a no-go; and

b) Even if Tiffany didn’t work there, her parents would surely notice if Ivy suddenly became a waitress at a local restaurant, and they’d want to know why. Surely their uber-successful, hasn’t-worked-at-a-restaurant-for-years daughter wouldn’t get a job over Christmas simply to pass the time.

Ivy was stuck in the worst pickle of her life, and she didn’t have a clue of how to get out of the mess she’d created.

The hot tears trailed ever faster down her face.

CHAPTER 10

AUSTIN

Austin’s hand hovered over his cell phone as he debated with himself. He should call Declan to find out how Iris was doing. It was what best friends did, right? And if the conversation just happened to drift toward Ivy, well, that would simply be a happy coincidence.

Nothing more than that.

He snatched the phone up and after unlocking it, tapped #1 in his favorites – the only phone number listed in his favorites, and what that said about him, he really didn’t want to think about just then – and listened to the phone ring.

Right as he thought it was going to voicemail, he heard Declan’s deep voice come through.

“Hey, Declan! Just calling to find out how Iris is doing.” Casual. So very casual. The only way he could be more casual was if he put on swim trunks and perched a pair of sunglasses on top of his head.

“Good, good. She’s back at home finally, and is spending a lot of her time resting up. That girl…” Austin could hear the half-laugh, half-groan come through loud and clear. “I’ve been thinking about buying her a donkey for Christmas. Just so she knows what it’s like to be around someone as stubborn as her.”

Austin laughed. That would really only work if Iris bought him a donkey in return. Truly, two people couldn’t be more perfectly suited for each other, at least when it came to the Stubborn Scale.

“Oh hey, before I forget: Iris has been bugging me to bug you. She wants you to attend the First Annual Miller/McLain Christmas Party. Since Ivy isn’t going back to San Francisco until after the holidays, Iris thought it would be fun to have a big get-together to celebrate. I knew with everything going on with your parents, you probably wouldn’t want to go back home for Christmas.”

Home. Austin wondered for a moment when North Idaho had stopped feeling like home for him. Was it when he’d first been told his parents were getting a divorce? Or maybe when Monica had mailed his engagement ring back to him so she could start dating Dane, the second richest guy in the county?

Somewhere in there.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’d be good. Christmas Day?”

“Yup. We’ll meet over at Stetson’s house. He has the biggest house in the family until Wyatt finishes his monstrosity. And anyway, it’s the Miller homestead, you know? But, Carmelita will be cooking, so I plan on wearing sweatpants so I can stuff as much down me as possible.”

Austin let out a roar of laughter. “Good plan. See you then.”

But after they hung up, Austin sat and stared at his phone, contemplative.

Ivy was still in town.

Why was Ivy still in town?

She had a studio and art galleries who would probably love to showcase her paintings over the holidays, not to mention a whole life back in California. He’d never expected her to still be here in Long Valley.

But since she was…

His mind ran through the possibilities. What was public, fun to do, and as Christmassy as it comes? After all, they still hadn’t seen Tiffany and Ezzy out in public. It was possible that they hadn’t gotten the message yet. It was only smart to go on one more date.

Just one more. Then he could give Ivy up.

CHAPTER 11

IVY

Ivy stood next to Austin, his arm wrapped around her as he belted out God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen with the rest of the caroling group. His singing voice was…awful.

Atrocious, really.

He looked down at her and shot her a huge grin. She grinned back, his happiness contagious, but still mentally making the note to wear earplugs the next time she went caroling with him.

Not that there’d be a next time, of course.

She pushed that thought away and glanced around the Sawyer Retirement Home, a goofy smile plastered on her face. She felt good. Damn good.

When they’d first arrived for the annual sing-in to the local residents, she’d spotted Tiffany and Ezzy in the crowd. She’d instinctually stiffened up, her heart racing even as the rest of her body froze in place. Sure, this was the whole point of going on a public date with Austin, but that didn’t make it any easier to see her high school tormentors.

But the look on Tiffany’s face when she’d glanced over, doing a double-take when she saw Austin’s arm wrapped around Ivy…

Well, that was almost as delicious as when Tiffany and Ezzy had marched towards the door, loudly discussing what a lame-ass idea it was to go caroling at a senior citizen’s center as a date.

Ivy’s grin grew even wider as she remembered their snotty comments. That’s right – she was on a date. With the cutest guy in four counties. Probably four states, actually.

This was a world she was rather happy to inhabit.

The caroling group segued into It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, and Ivy sang the lyrics lustily, snuggling into Austin’s side. It was coming upon a Christmas Eve soon, and she was thrilled that Austin would be at the First Annual Miller/McLain Christmas Party. Although they wouldn’t be there as each other’s date, of course – that implied a level of seriousness that just wasn’t there after only knowing each other for a couple of weeks – it was still going to be loads of fun.

After New Year’s would be when reality intruded, but she was happily ignoring that…that fiasco until then, thankyouverymuch. In fact, she was reaching epic levels of avoidance when it came to her financial situation, a talent she hadn’t realized she’d possessed until recently.

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear finished up, and Ivy looked towards the caroling director, waiting to hear the name of the next song to sing, when he instead announced that they were done and wished everyone a Merry Christmas. Ivy bit back a twinge of disappointment – she was really starting to enjoy herself. Now she had no excuse to snuggle into Austin’s side, which was really too bad.

After some clapping and rounds of hugs, the carolers headed for the door, and out into a great big world of white.

Flakes were falling gently from the sky, blanketing everything as far as the eye could see. To someone else, it might appear magical. To Ivy, it looked evil. Monstrous. This…this shit had been what had almost killed her sister. Not to mention that it was just miserable cold.

Why? Why would anyone ever choose to live in a place where it snowed on a regular basis?!

“Oh, wow,” Austin breathed, looking out at the white covering the world. “So pretty. You want to walk home? I can come back and get the truck, but I’d love to walk you home in this.”

Intentionally walk in snow…

Her mind ground to a halt. There was no part of this that made any sense whatsoever. He’d have to walk her home, then walk back, then drive home, all so he could spend more time outside in the cold and the snow?

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, doing a fantastic imitation of a goldfish, but nothing came out. He must’ve taken her silence as assent because he tucked her arm under his and took off down the street towards her parents’ home. She stumbled for a few steps and then caught up with him. He patted her hand reassuringly, no doubt thinking that she’d found a bit of ice or something under the snow.

“That sure was a lot of fun,” Austin said cheerfully, every breath creating a cloud around his head that slowly dissipated. The flakes continued to drift down, endlessly down, wrapping them in a world of silence and white. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“I really had a blast,” Ivy replied. Except for the part where you’re forcing me to walk home in a snowstorm. But she kept that thought to herself. The flakes swirled around them as they moved slowly down the street, and Ivy had the fleeting thought that it looked like Sawyer had been shoved under the dome of a snow globe, one where God kept shaking it to keep the snow coming.

It was almost a pretty snow, if such a thing could be true, because of how gently it drifted down.

Pretty snow…

Had they slipped alcohol into the hot cocoa they were serving at the retirement home? Ivy couldn’t remember ever thinking that snow was pretty.

Maybe she was under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug. Maybe she was about to die. Maybe aliens had taken over her body and she didn’t even—

“When are you going back to California?” Austin asked, yanking her out of her thoughts and back into the present. He tucked her arm closer to his side. She shoved her other hand into her coat pocket, wishing again that she had gloves. Or something warmer than what amounted to a fall jacket when it came to Idaho weather. It was her winter jacket in the Bay area, but that didn’t mean much up here in the mountains. She tried to hide her teeth-chattering by sheer dint of will.

“Oh, af-f-ter the new year,” she got out, clamping her jaw down as hard as she could to stop the chattering from starting.

She thought she sounded…breezy. Casual. As if that thought didn’t haunt her every moment of every day.

Which was exactly what she was aiming for, of course.

The truthful answer was more like Never, because I can’t afford to, but she was still hoping for that Christmas miracle – some way to get out of this predicament she’d found herself in. It hadn’t happened yet, but hey, Christmas was still four days away. She was holding out hope. She’d watched It’s a Wonderful Life every year growing up. She totally believed in Christmas miracles.

“I’m staying here until then to spend time with my family. I so rarely get to make it up from California, what with the studio and all; it’s fun to spend time with them when I can.”

She squinted one eye upward, waiting for the lightning strike to hit. She’d heard of snow lightning. It was a thing. Especially when someone was lying their ever-lovin’ ass off like she was.

Nothing.

Apparently, God was busy tonight. Not a huge surprise, considering the biggest holiday of the year was coming up.

Maybe that was as much of a Christmas miracle as she’d get this year.

“Where are your gloves?” he asked, taking the hand he’d tucked under his arm and blowing warm air on it. She quickly pulled her other hand out of her pocket so he could blow on both of them at the same time. She felt prickles of pleasure-pain in her fingers at the warmth.

“I was only supposed to be up here for a few days,” she said with a shrug as he tucked both hands under his arm. It was a little awkward to walk that way, but heavenly warmth was spreading through her fingers again, so she wasn’t about to complain. “I packed light, not thinking I’d be here through multiple snowstorms. Plus, my gloves that I have back at home aren’t exactly made for this kind of weather anyway.”

Mainly, because California didn’t have this kind of weather. She thought longingly back to the mid-60s in San Francisco, even in the depths of December, and bit back a groan. She missed real human weather so very much. No one should ever intentionally live in this…

This winter wonderland.

Okay, fine, so it was pretty. It didn’t mean she had to like it.

“I imagine you don’t have any ski resorts in San Francisco?” Austin asked with a gentle laugh.

“Not too many,” Ivy agreed dryly.

She spotted her parents’ house through the white haze. Almost there. She was surprised to feel a little sadness at the thought. She’d actually enjoyed walking home in the snow with Austin, something she would’ve bet body parts on never happening.

Not that she didn’t enjoy walking with Austin, of course. It was this damn awful beautiful white freezing cold shit coming down from the sky that she could do without.

“Thank you for going caroling with me,” Austin said after a slight pause. He smiled down at her, joy in his eyes, a few white flakes caught on his eyelashes. He blinked, and they were gone. “I know you’re here because of your sister, but…I can’t help but be glad for it anyway.” They drew to a stop on her parents’ front door step, the porch light casting a weak golden glow in the evening darkness. He paused, looking at her and she looked at him and the world swirled around them and she couldn’t breathe, oh her heart…

He leaned down and placed his lips on hers, softly, questioningly. Did she want this?

Yes, yes she did.

She slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He groaned, pushing his gloved hands into her damp hair and tilting her head to the side for better access. Oh, oh…

His lips were soft and yet demanding as he pulled her to him. His tongue slipped out and ran along the seam of her lips, seeking entrance, and she moaned as she opened her mouth to him. Her heart was beating so hard, she was sure the neighbors would call the police for the noise disturbance, and her mind went blank as she drank in his presence, and then…

And then he pulled away and without a word, headed back out into the snowstorm, down the street, disappearing into the swirling white.

Ivy stared after him, a hand pressed to her lips, surprise thrumming through her. She hadn’t expected that kiss, she hadn’t expected him to leave abruptly, but most of all, she hadn’t expected to want to continue.

A part of her knew that this was a bad idea. They could never work out. Living in different states tended to put a damper on things, but it was more than that. He was a cowboy who worked with local farmers to help them make long-term decisions about what crops to plant and what rotation schedule to follow.

Those weren’t talents that were exactly in high demand in the Bay area.

And she couldn’t move here. To live back among the people who’d tried so hard to make her life miserable. To live in a world where snow was a regular occurrence six months out of the year. To live where pine trees grew as far as the eye could see, and art for the sake of art wasn’t even on anyone’s radar.

But despite all of this, she couldn’t help the joy running through her as she slipped inside her parents’ house and down the hallway to her bedroom. Snuggling up underneath the hot pink comforter that had seemed so awesome when she was a sophomore in high school, she stared up at the ceiling, a loopy grin on her face, playing and replaying the kiss in her mind.

Maybe a Christmas miracle would happen here, too. Maybe she shouldn’t give up on it quite yet.

She wrapped the hope for a Christmas miracle around her, snuggled in deep, and drifted off to sleep, a peaceful world of snow continuing to fall gently on the world outside.

CHAPTER 12

AUSTIN

He picked up the newest thriller by Mark Dawson and stared unseeingly at the pages, then put it down. He automatically went to pick it back up, when his hand froze over the paperback. It was no use. He’d been trying to read that rather short paragraph for the last – he looked at his phone – thirty-two minutes, and still had no idea what it said.

Or what the name of the book was.

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. This was ridiculous. He loved to read. He loved thrillers. He loved Mark Dawson. Austin had long ago taught himself how to entertain himself while alone, because otherwise, he would’ve gone stark raving mad years ago.

After growing up with Monica practically attached to his hip from their freshman year forward, it’d actually been something he had to consciously teach himself how to do. It was okay to be by himself. It was okay to spend evenings in, with only a book to keep him company.

But today, he couldn’t concentrate. Not when he was about to go spend the afternoon at Stetson’s house.

Not when he was about to spend the afternoon with Ivy McLain at Stetson’s house. Because as fun as Stetson was, he was not the reason that Austin was having a hard time concentrating.

His eyes flicked towards the ready stack of presents by the front door. He’d bought bottles of wine and boxes of chocolates for everyone, except Ivy. She deserved something more, something special. He’d spent days searching for exactly that, until he’d found the perfect present.

This wasn’t a date, of course. You didn’t go on a date with a girl, her sister, her parents, and three Miller brothers, wives and girlfriends in tow. Especially not a Christmas Day date. That implied a level of seriousness in their relationship that just wasn’t there.

Couldn’t be there.

After the holidays, Ivy was going back to California; back to her life in the relative warmth of San Francisco. There, people appreciated her talents, and rewarded her for them. After all, how many people were able to make it financially as a painter? She’d never talked money with him, of course – it wasn’t his place to pry – but to be able to keep an art studio and an apartment and live full-time in the Bay area without any outside job meant she was really tearing up the local art scene.

Which she should. She had talent in spades. She’d finally shown him her painting of the Goldfork Mountains that she was working on while up here, and although it had looked amazing to him, she’d been muttering something about how it wasn’t quite right. He figured that was just her perfectionism showing itself, because he couldn’t see how she could make it any more stunning, but he wasn’t about to argue the point with her.

Going back to California…that’d been her appeal from the beginning, of course. She was leaving, and he didn’t have to worry about her wanting something more from him. She wouldn’t want more, she’d help him get rid of Tiffany in a way that just words couldn’t seem to do, and then he could go on with his life. This was why he’d wanted to go on a date with her from day one.

But the last week had been…magical. They went caroling again, sledding out at Stetson’s place, and spent a couple of evenings watching old sappy Christmas movies. He started to realize that the more time he spent around Ivy, the more he wanted to spend around Ivy.

Which was dangerous, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and glanced at the deer clock on the wall, the antlers pointing to 12:40. It was time to get going. He hated being late.

Especially being late when it came to seeing Ivy.

He gathered the mountain of gifts into his arms and hooked his foot on the door, pulling it shut behind him. It was time to celebrate Christmas.

CHAPTER 13

IVY

Abby leaned over to Ivy with a huge grin on her face. “Sooooo…” she said, drawing the word out with relish, “tell us all.”

Ivy looked around the group of women, who were all staring right back at her with their own cheese-eating grins on their faces. There was Abby of course, who’d recently married Wyatt (their wedding being where Iris had reunited with Declan), and then there was Jennifer, Stetson’s new wife, their even newer baby asleep on her shoulder, and last but certainly not least, Iris herself. They’d all managed to find the guy they were supposed to be with, while Ivy…

Well, she was just play-acting with Austin. It was embarrassing to admit, even if only to herself, that it was all for show. Who pretended to date a guy to get revenge on their high school nemesis? What did that say about her?

Of course, there was the fact that neither Tiffany nor Ezzy would’ve ever spotted them during their Christmas movie marathon three days ago, so that made the efficacy of their “show” somewhat questionable, but Ivy studiously ignored that fact.

The girls were all still staring at her. Ivy gulped.

“He seems like a real sweetie,” Abby said, sensing her discomfort at being on the receiving end of so much interest, and trying to gently guide her towards safer ground. “He’s not from around here, right?”

Ivy smiled, feeling relief course through her at having something simple and straightforward to discuss with them. Something that didn’t include love or relationship. “No, he came from up north – up in the panhandle. He took over the extension office when Mr. Snow retired.”

Austin had been at that job for two years now, but that didn’t keep everyone in Long Valley from considering him to be the “new guy.” He’d probably be the “new guy” right up until the day he retired.

Jennifer nodded sagely. “Stets has been saying that Austin’s been a real help in getting a new crop rotation figured out. Do you think you two will continue to date even after you go back to—oh hello!”

Everyone turned to look, even Ivy, even as she was inwardly begging God that it was not, in fact, Austin behind her.

It was.

She met his gaze.

He sent her his own cheese-eating grin. He knew they’d been talking about him.

She sent him a weak smile in return. She’d been caught.

She was pretty sure her hair and face were exactly the same color. Damn fair skin, anyway.

His grin grew to Cheshire proportions.

She glared at him.

He burst out laughing.

She glared harder.

“Oh, the magic of the Miller homestead,” Carmelita said in her thick Hispanic accent as she came bustling into the living room with another plate of Christmas cookies. These appeared to be sugar cookies with frosting, at least according to Ivy’s super-sensitive-cookie-finding nose. “Every Christmas, someone falls in love here in this house. It is Mr. and Mrs. Miller, watching over us, God bless their souls.” She made the sign of the cross over her ample chest as she placed the cookies on the coffee table – they were sugar cookies indeed – scooting it a half inch to the right, and then straightening up. Sending Ivy a guileless grin, she sashayed back into the kitchen, leaving behind a roomful of laughing females.

It was Austin’s turn to look like he’d swallowed a frog.

It rather served him right, in Ivy’s not-so-humble opinion.

“Let me drool over your adorable baby,” Ivy said in an obvious bid to change the subject, holding her arms out for Flint. She was quite sure she’d never seen such a picture-perfect baby in all her life, and anyway, Jennifer owed her for embarrassing her in front of Austin.

She felt, rather than saw, Austin move away. He was probably going to head out into the barn to hang out with the guys until mealtime. Jennifer handed Flint over along with a burp cloth, and Ivy began patting and rocking him as she looked around, realizing Juan was absent, too. He was the ten-year-old soon-to-be-adopted son of Wyatt and Abby, and as the only kid in the family other than Flint, it was probably hard for him to figure out where he should hang out.

Well, the barn was a good choice. The guys would pretend to work on a tractor or combine or something, but everyone knew they were just out there to hide from Carmelita bossing them around to set up more tables or chairs.

She snuggled Flint closer to her. He felt wonderful in her arms; a bundle of squishy love. She smiled over at Jennifer, happy to have a baby to love on. “He’s so beautiful,” she cooed.

Flint gurgled. Jennifer beamed. Iris grinned.

Ivy narrowed her eyes at that one. No, no, no. She was not baby hungry. She could read Iris’ expression from a mile away, and she did not appreciate the direction her sister’s thoughts had taken.

Ivy simply thought that Flint was cute. That just meant she had eyeballs in her head, nothing more.

At Ivy’s glare, Iris smothered her grin and, with a teasing glint in her eye that didn’t bode well for Ivy, turned to their mom. She was carrying in a bowl of punch from the kitchen to deliver to the buffet table. Carmelita had declared that their mom could help her in the kitchen, but hadn’t let anyone else in thus far.

Ivy’s nose twitched again. Stuffing. There was definitely stuffing in the turkey.

“Mom, don’t you think that Ivy is just about the cutest mother you ever did see?” Iris asked in an overly sweet, syrupy voice.

She was such a sister sometimes.

Their mom looked up from the punch-bowl arranging and sent Iris a warning glance. “Now dear, I think that Ivy will make a splendid mother, if and when she ever chooses to have children.”

In other words, she knew Iris was trying to make Ivy blush, and even though she’d succeeded – damn her Irish roots – Ivy had won the war. Mom had sided with her. She stuck her tongue out at Iris. Iris laughed.

Ivy rolled her eyes…and then laughed too.

It was good to be home. Even if it meant that she was stuck there indefinitely, in that moment, Ivy wasn’t sure she’d trade it for the world. She’d missed her family and being teased and beautiful baby boys while she’d been hiding out in California, trying to pretend that she loved abstract expressionism.

She stopped short, her head snapping up. Abby noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye and looked over. “You okay?” she asked.

Ivy nodded and sent her an overly bright smile. “Yes, yes, of course,” she said, a bit too loudly. Abby cocked her head to the side, obviously not buying it. Ivy ignored that and continued to bounce Flint as she thought through that again.

Trying to pretend that she loved abstract art? She didn’t pretend to love it. It was her life. She’d focused on it ever since she’d moved to San Francisco and had first started taking courses at the California College of the Arts. Her art teachers had rhapsodized about the flow and curves and beauty, and as Ivy had sat in class, staring at the paintings being projected up on the wall, she’d fallen in love with the style right along with them.

Much better than being a landscape artist, anyway. Painting a couple of mountains was easy. Abstract art was hard. You had to put your heart and soul into it, not just replicate what was in front of you.

Which was strange, now that she thought about it, because she sure was struggling with her painting of the Goldfork Mountains, which wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a keep-busy project. She’d been sketching the view that day that Austin had run into her out in the woods, and had started painting it after her dad had found her oils up in the attic.

But no matter how much she worked on the painting, it was never quite right. Maybe it was the sky. She’d painted it as a sunset, so maybe she needed to add some more ora—

“Ivy!” her mother practically shouted.

Okay, did shout.

Ivy jerked her head up. “What?” she asked, dazed.

“It’s time for dinner, and Jennifer would probably like her baby back now.”

Ivy looked down at Flint, nestled against her shoulder, fast asleep, and then up to Jennifer, who was holding her arms out for him, a smile dancing on her lips. Ivy flushed red again – being a redhead just wasn’t all it was cracked up to be – and quickly held Flint up to her.

“I’d marry him if I were you,” Jennifer whispered in her ear as she scooped Flint up, then pulled back and winked at her. “If he makes you that oblivious to the world…” She let the sentence trail off and headed to the table.

Ivy looked over at the table. Whoops. Everyone was there, and they were all waiting for her to move her ass over to it.

The thing was, she hadn’t been lost in her thoughts, thinking about Austin. She’d been thinking about paintings, which was only right. The art world was where she belonged.

Not Long Valley.

After a scrumptious dinner that left Ivy feeling overstuffed and very, very happy, the whole family moved into the living room, with couples sitting everywhere they could shoehorn themselves into, and Juan sitting on the floor, gingerly holding a sleeping Flint. Ivy grinned at the scene, loving it. He already seemed to be fitting into the family, even if he didn’t seem to be quite sure of what to do with a sleeping eight month old.

He hadn’t said much that day, at least that Ivy had heard, but when he looked at Abby and Wyatt, he had stars in his eyes.

Ivy looked to her left; her whole body was squished up against the side of Austin, who was smiling down at her. He was obviously very happy with the seating arrangement. She couldn’t pretend she minded it, no matter what her brain kept warning her to think. She’d worry about their relationship and painting styles and nagging feelings over unfinished landscape paintings later.

Right now was Christmas.

Declan busied himself, distributing the presents spilling out from under the tree, and the sound of tearing paper filled the air, along with shouts of glee and thank-yous. Ivy looked around, her smile slowly fading as the truth she’d been avoiding bonked her over the head again. No matter what she’d been telling herself to focus on, the painful truth was in front of her: She hadn’t provided a single present under that tree.

She’d wanted to. Oh, how she’d wanted to. But she couldn’t get back home; she couldn’t pay her rent; she couldn’t even buy herself a pair of gloves to make it through this damn winter.

She could only hope no one noticed the lack of presents from her. She would simply die if someone brought it up, she was sure of it.

“Here you go,” Austin said softly in her ear, placing a long, thin box in her hands. A simple gold ribbon was wrapped around the middle, providing the only wrapping for the present.

Ivy stared down at it in shock. What on earth was it? She looked up at Austin and he smiled back, close enough that she could clearly see the brown flecks in his otherwise-brilliant green eyes.

Did he have…love in his eyes? It couldn’t be love. He couldn’t love her. She was imagining things.

She looked back down at the box, the rest of the world falling away. Tugging at the gold ribbon, she lifted the lid and—

“Oh!” she gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Inside of the box lay a pair of leather gloves, nestled in tightly. She gently pulled them out, running her hands over the buttery soft leather. “Oh Austin,” she said, her throat tight with emotion. They were beautiful, so damn beautiful.

“They reminded me of you,” he said softly. “Classic, simple, soft, and beautiful.” He shrugged, looking embarrassed that he’d waxed so poetic. “Well anyway, since you’ve been stuck up here without your gloves for so long, I thought you’d like ‘em.”

She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. “Like them?” she pushed out. She felt her eyes tearing up a little and she blinked rapidly, trying to will the tears away. “I love them.”

She pulled them on, the cashmere lining soft and smooth against her skin. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. She was pretty sure she’d never felt anything as sinfully soft as these gloves. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Thank you,” she whispered. She leaned up and planted a quick kiss on his lips, which rapidly turned into…something more. The whooping and hollering finally broke through the haze surrounding her and she pulled back, her face afire once more.

This time, though, Austin’s face matched hers. Which was only fair.

As she showed off the gloves to Iris, who ooh’d and ahh’d over them, she heard Carmelita sniffle, “It is so good to have my boys under the same roof this year. Mr. and Mrs. Miller would be so happy, bless their souls.” Ivy shot Iris a questioning look, and Iris sent back an answering one – I’ll tell you later.

Sometimes, it was nice to have a sister.

Sometimes.

Declan passed Iris her present, pulling Iris’ attention away, and Ivy watched with morbid curiosity. Was he going to propose to her right here in front of everyone? The box looked a little large, but Ivy wouldn’t put it past Declan to give Iris a rock the size of a baseball, just so everyone knew she was his. After his stunt fifteen years ago, Ivy hadn’t thought she’d ever forgive him, but now? She couldn’t ignore the love on his face. Yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in the past, but it was time to move on. Iris had, and Ivy needed to trust her sister’s judgment.

Not to mention that Declan only had eyes for her. They followed Iris’ every movement as she opened the box and then gasped with pleasure. “Thank you!” she exclaimed, pulling some colored, cut stones out of the box.

“I bought these stones from the same company that Great-Grandpa Miller worked for when he first moved to Long Valley in the 1800s,” Declan said proudly as Iris ooh’d and ahh’d over each one. “We’re not called the Gem State for nothin’, you know. I thought you could use them in the canes when you carve them.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Iris said, throwing her arms around him and kissing him with joy.

And kissing, and kissing, and kissing.

Ivy couldn’t stop laughing. After having been on the other end of this scene just minutes before, it was rather delightful to see her sister fall into the same trap.

Finally, they pulled apart and Iris collapsed against Declan’s chest, her face a brilliant red. Ivy grinned in delight.

Yes, revenge was sweet.

Next to her, Austin was laughing. “So you’ve finally figured out how to kiss a girl, eh?” he said to Declan.

“Ohhhh…this sounds like a story I want to hear,” Ivy piped up.

Her mom said, “Yes please!” while her dad tried to shush her.

But Austin wouldn’t be stopped. He was on a roll and was going to have some fun at his best friend’s expense.

“So there we were, on a double date up at the University of Idaho. Declan here is paired up with some really cute girl, but he doesn’t seem to be into her much. Probably because she doesn’t have red hair and blue eyes.” He winked at Iris, who flushed red again. “At the end of the night, we’re dropping off our dates, and this girl goes up on her tippy toes for a kiss. Declan here dodges her and pecks her on the cheek instead. Mumbles something about how he won’t kiss a girl in public, even though it was pitch-dark outside and no one could’ve seen ‘em!”

As the laughter roared, Ivy looked over at Juan, who looked half-thrilled to be included in such adult talk, and simultaneously embarrassed to death. According to Abby, he would be eleven soon, which meant he was about to discover that girls were really, really cool.

As handsome as he was, Ivy was pretty sure Abby and Wyatt would have to fend off said girls with a baseball bat.

“Well,” Declan drawled as soon as the laughter finally let up, “you aren’t the public – you’re family!”

Everyone burst out laughing again, but this time, Ivy was the one mortified. Did this mean that Declan was planning on proposing to Iris? And did he think Austin would propose to her?

It was way too soon in their relationship to be talking about marriage. Ivy gulped hard. Maybe Declan knew something she didn’t. Maybe Austin was getting a lot more serious about her than she’d realized.

She chanced a glance up at him and saw him grinning and laughing as he and Declan exchanged friendly insults. No, it’d been a joke. Nothing more.

Which she was happy about.

Very happy.

CHAPTER 14

AUSTIN

Austin looked down at his wobbling knees and back up at Ivy. “You think this is a good idea, huh?” he said doubtfully.

It really didn’t seem like it to him.

She skated in circles around him, her laughter spilling out. “C’mon, just push forward a little. It’s actually easier to stay upright if you’re moving. Like a bike, except—”

“Except here, I have thin metal blades between me and death?” he interrupted.

Ivy let out a huge laugh at that one, her cheeks a rosy red color, her eyes sparkling in the dim winter lighting. She was brightening up this dark and dreary winter day just by being her. He wondered if she realized what a gift that was.

“Yeah, death,” she said dryly when she finally calmed down enough to speak. “Do you want me to ask the front staff how many have died while ice skating this past year?”

“No, no, I’m willing to participate in this death-defying stunt,” he said airily, as if bestowing a great gift upon her. “But only if you’ll take my hand and help me.”

She skated a little closer, and then flipped around and started skating backwards. “You want me to hold your hand?” she said teasingly. “Don’t boys have cooties? I’m pretty sure I learned that somewhere.”

He pushed forward a little, his ankles shaking almost as much as his knees. He was missing Bob just then. Horses were easy. Ice skating was scary. He didn’t care how Ivy made it look; he knew the truth.

“Hold on,” he said, puffing as he tried to keep up with her, “I thought you said you didn’t have an athletic bone in your body! Were you sandbagging me, so I’d agree to go ice skating with you?”

Her laughter tinkled out again. “I guess I didn’t consider ice skating to be athletic,” she admitted with a shrug as she did a quick twirl in front of him. “It’s balls that get me. They fly at me and smack me in the face and break my glasses and they’re just horrible little objects.”

“Glasses?” he asked between pants. They were almost to the other side of the rink, where he could grab onto the railing and rest for a minute. Whoever said that ice skating wasn’t a sport – ahem, Ivy – was obviously in better shape than he was. His thighs were burning from the strain of trying to keep upright. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Contacts now. But yup, glasses and braces all through junior high and part of high school. Would you believe they had me in braces for four years? My tormentors weren’t especially bright, and so they stuck with nicknames like ‘Metal Mouth’ and ‘Four Eyes.’ Heaven forbid they strain themselves in the creativity department…”

She shot him a brilliant smile, showing off her gorgeous and very straight white teeth. He had a hard time imagining anyone teasing her based on her appearance. She was so damn beautiful. His eyes drifted down her body, which she was showcasing to perfection with a drapy sweater thingy that clung to her generous curves.

Damn beautiful.

They’d made it! He grabbed onto the railing that encircled the ice skating rink and stood still for a moment, happy to be upright and stable.

She skated up to him and then stopped abruptly, spraying him with ice shavings. “You know what movie we should watch tonight?” she asked rhetorically as she skated back and forth next to him, waiting not-so-patiently for him to recuperate. “The Cutting Edge.”

He furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure I’ve—”

She held out her hands for him, and he took them, placing his trust in her to keep him upright.

“I’m not sure I’ve heard of it,” he finished as she began skating backwards, pulling him forward like a small child on training wheels. She was wearing his Christmas present today, and he had to admit, she did it with style. She made those gloves look good.

She made everything look good.

Skating with a soft-on was probably not helping matters.

“Never…” she stuttered, staring at him with horror as she easily navigated them around the curve of the rink and into the straightaway. “Well! I know what we’re doing tonight. Never watched The Cutting Edge,” she muttered under her breath with disgust. “What did you do during the 90s? Live under a rock?”

Pretty much.

But he wasn’t about to say that out loud.

They did a few more laps around the skating rink, enjoying it all to themselves except a father-son pair off to the side who were busy trying to keep each other upright. Both of them seemed to be able to ice skate as well as Austin…which was to say, not at all.

They needed an Ivy.

The world was better with Ivys around.

His heart twisted at that thought, because he knew he’d be losing her soon. She’d be returning to California after New Year’s, which was just five more days.

Thankfully, one of the benefits of being an extension agent was that not too many farmers and ranchers were planning next year’s crop and animal rotation between Christmas and New Year’s. This meant that Austin could take the week off without anyone caring a bit. He’d normally take the week to catch up on paperwork – that’s what he did last year, anyway – but he was losing Ivy soon. He’d much rather spend the week with her. Paperwork would always be there.

Ivy would not.

His heart twisted again.

“You okay?” Ivy asked, breaking into his thoughts.

“Oh yeah, of course!” he said brightly, and then realized that he sounded overly dramatic. Like he was trying too hard.

Which he was, but he wasn’t supposed to sound like it.

“You looked like you swallowed a live frog,” Ivy said, smiling as always, but her eyes revealed her worry. They were scanning his face, just like his were scanning hers.

“A live frog, eh?” he asked jovially. Dammit, he was not doing a good job of playing it cool here.

“You know, like…ribbit?” She made the sound of a croaking frog.

A sick, malnourished frog.

He mock-glared at her. “That is not what a frog sounds like,” he informed her. “It needs more gusto, more from the gut.” He pulled his hands away unthinkingly to gesture at his stomach, which meant no more Ivy holding him up.

His arms started pinwheeling and his forward momentum carried him right into Ivy. They were crashing into each other and then dropping to the ice. He threw himself underneath her, trying to save her from taking the brunt of the fall, which meant she hit his lungs instead. The air whooshed out of him as the world went a little black around the edges, and he kept blinking, trying to bring the world back into focus and she was staring down at him, her mouth moving but nothing coming out.

Finally, her voice started to filter in. “If you don’t talk to me in the next six seconds, I’m going to drag you to the ER,” Ivy yelled at the top of her lungs.

Right next to his head.

He looked up at her and tried to focus on her face, swimming around in front of him. “I can hear you,” he said, a lopsided grin stretching across his lips.

“You can…” she sputtered. “First Iris and now you – I don’t think I could handle someone else with a brain injury!”

He pulled her down on top of him, snuggling her against him. “I think you should kiss me all better,” he said as he felt himself harden against the curves of her body. She glared down at him, indecisive about her response. She wanted to yell at him more – it was written all over her face – but she was also beginning to see the humor in the situation.

“You sure are needy,” she breathed as she inched closer, the wanting to kiss him part apparently winning out.

Thank God.

“You’re the one who promised me that this wasn’t a death-defying feat,” he reminded her, their lips just a hair-breadths apart. “I think a kiss to make me all better isn’t so much to ask.”

“Mmmm…” she murmured, her eyes drifting shut. “I like how you think.”