1
Hot Chocolate and Mellows
Ivy
The windshield wipers swept back and forth yet still couldn’t keep up with the snow coming down. Our little town of Highland Falls looked like a snow globe come to life. I took a deep breath as I worked to relax my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Saying a silent prayer of thanks for the four-wheel drive on my Jeep, I glanced in the rearview mirror.
Addie.
My four-, almost five-year-old was staring out at the swirling flakes with naked joy clear on her face. Maybe I needed to take more cues from her. I chastised myself for not seeing the beauty in what Mother Nature had seen fit to send us today.
“Whatcha thinking, babe?” I called back to her, smothering a yawn as I did so.
“Beautiful, Momma. So beautiful.”
That’s my girl.She recognized beauty. I prayed to the goddess that would always be the case.
I turned my focus back to the road. Who would have predicted a freak snowstorm in early November in Illinois? Thankfully, owning my bookstore in the downtown area of our town allowed me the freedom to close up shop when Addie’s preschool dismissed early because of the storm. I’d rushed out to pick Addie up but gone back to get everything officially shut down for the day. Now I was kicking myself for the lost time when I could have gone home with relatively clear streets. I was just praying that I could get us both home before it got much worse or before I dissolved into a puddle of exhaustion.
“Ads? What are you thinking we should have for snack today?” I called back.
“Oooohhhhh, Momma. Hot chocolate and mellows, ’kay?” she sang to me.
Sounded perfect.
The road showed no tire tracks, just a blanket of powdery white. It had been coming down for a few hours, and I’d hazard a guess we had three inches so far. Not as much as a January storm might bring, but for the first storm of the year, it was nothing to dismiss. Judging by the empty streets, the folks of Highland had decided it was a good afternoon to hibernate at home. Not far now, only a few blocks to go.
I turned onto Main, and my tires locked, sliding us around the corner and right up onto the curb. Son of a biscuit. My heart was hammering out a new rhythm as I looked back at Addie. She was grinning.
“Momma, what was that?” she asked with wide eyes. Well, at least she seemed to be having fun.
Deep breaths. I closed my eyes and focused on centering myself in peace and stillness, just like in my daily yoga practice. When I trusted myself to be calm, I called back. “Wasn’t that fun, baby? Like a ride, right? Momma has to check it out, okay?”
“’Kay, Momma.”
I wrapped a scarf around my neck, my mind already racing ahead to how in Hades I’d get us out of this one. I pulled on my gloves and then started at a knock at my window. The handsome face outside spiked my heart right back up to dangerous levels.
Jake Spencer.
When Addie and I moved to Highland Falls last spring, Jake Spencer was one of the first guys I met. To be fair, the first time we “met,” he wasn’t aware of me. I’d been practicing yoga on the screened-in porch of our home in the early hours before Addie woke up, and Jake had run by with his dog. And no shirt. Dang. First, my eyes found the adorable chocolate Lab. Even with the gloriousness that is, unfortunately, Jake Spencer, I will always check out a dog first. Upon setting my sights on said dog, I noted that the pup’s leash was wrapped around their owner’s waist. When my eyes traveled there, I saw an honest-to-goodness in-the-fleshVof muscles.
You know those two lines of muscles in the lower ab region? I thought they were fictional, but here was real-life proof. The sweat rolling down his abs pulled my eyes up his chest, and I literally fell out of tree pose. The gratitude I felt for his headphones knows no bounds. I would have been mortified if he’d seen me. That memory was still vibrant even seven months later. So you can imagine my excitement when I ran into him at the brewery he ran with Cole Sullivan called the Homestead shortly after I opened my bookstore. Unfortunately, it was then that I learned, while beautiful, he was a bit of an ass. And quite possibly a misogynist. So that’s that.
Since then, for whatever reason, the two of us seemed incapable of being in the same space and not needling each other. I knew I was just as guilty as he was. I’d meditated on the struggle repeatedly. I’d never had someone bring out my desire to berightlike Jake did. It just wasn’t in my nature. I’d find the peace within, pledge to be civil the next time I saw him, and then immediately resort to childish name-calling or teasing within minutes of being in his presence. At this point, I was willing to give up and just say that it was what it was. We didn’t need to be friends.
Even if I did want to run my tongue along his abs. Just a little bit.
“Ivy, open up, for Christ’s sake,” he said as he pounded on my door.
“Who’s that, Momma?” my girl piped up from the back.
“Sully’s friend, baby. I’m going to see if he can help us.” I would be civil to this man in front of her. Part of being a parent was acting like a grown-up. I’d figure out how to do that if it killed me.
“Scoot back,” I called as I pushed my door open and slid out. My feet disappeared into the snow. Dang. I was grateful I was in some boots today.
Jake scanned me up and down before using his hand to gesture from my head to my toes, then back. “What is this?”
I looked down at myself, then back at Jake. “What do you mean?”
