Page 16 of The First Spark

So, while I adore the concept of happily ever after, more often than not, my all-encompassing view of the L word keeps me sidelined.

I’m not interested in doing something halfway. I want it all—the passion, the excitement, the earth-shattering love.

That’s a big part of the reason I’m single.

Men ask me out all the time, but if he doesn’t awaken something inside me, he’s not worth the bother.

An added issue is most men my age fall into two categories: either they have already walked the marriage path and have no interest in pursuing it again, or they’re like Asher Hammond—content to bed a different woman every night of the week.

So, instead of snuggling up to a handsome man tonight, I’ll focus on making Christmas dreams come true for Sparkwood. One More Page has a prime spot on Main Street, and the locals love browsing the holiday window displays.

Browsing often turns to buying, and my quarterly receipts prove that the residents of Sparkwood need One More Page in their lives.

All except for the men at Black Lotus. But to be fair, I’m riding on the assumption they even know how to read.

Look, it has zero to do with their appearance or their sexual prowess.

I don’t discriminate based on the amount of ink on someone’s skin or the number of lovers they take. Your body—do what you want with it. I do, however, harbor an intense dislike for assholes and Asher Hammond holds the crown in that category.

I scrub my face, grunting as I force the memory of Asher holding me out of my mind. He’s likely on his second round with Lydia by now, or maybe his third, depending on how much wooing she requires.

Either way, he doesn’t deserve another thought.

Time to focus on the task at hand.

I remove the fall-themed items currently decorating the window and schlep them to the top of the basement stairs.

I love that there is storage space under the shop, even if I am sharing said area with Black Lotus Tattoo. It’s an oddset-up, but according to the building’s owner, Kiki, it’s standard in this area.

The basement access lies through a nondescript door at the end of a jointly shared hallway. Beyond that area, Black Lotus and One More Page are totally separate, with our own meters and internet access.

I can only imagine if we had to share that, too.

A quick glimpse through the windows of Black Lotus reveals the darkened interior, which is yet another bonus. If their shop is closed, there is zero chance of a run-in with any of the employees.

Trust me, one interaction per day with Asher ismorethan enough.

To be fair, Braden and Zane seem lovely, although I rarely see them. When I do, they smile and wave before going about their business.

Asher Hammond is the exception to the rule.

I hate when people dislike me, especially when I have done nothing to deserve said treatment.

But there isn’t a chance in hell I’ll let Asher insult me and get away with it, even if he did carry my ass off that suicide mission of a ladder earlier.

And Mina would love for me to mend fences with the resident tattoo god, even if getting to know his brother better is her ulterior motive.

Not happening, lovely.

Flipping on the light, I carry the boxes downstairs. By the third trip, I’ve broken a sweat and am seriously reconsidering my plans for Christmas window dressing. On a positive note, I won’t need the gym tonight.

My front window stands bare with a last load of decorready to return to hibernation. I perch the pumpkins on top of the box and tuck the last scarecrow under my arm. Then, with the grace of a drunken elk, I fumble down the stairs.

When a stray pumpkin slips from my grasp and rolls across the dimly lit basement, I decide to throw in the towel.

That’s enough for tonight.

I’ll awaken Santa from his slumber in the morning.

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