Page 52 of Second Chance Christmas

“Sex,” he finished for her.

“Right.”

The easy smile gave him hope. Hope he could help her see how much she missed this place and him.

He gathered Ivy’s hands in his and pressed a kiss to the back of her gloves on both hands. Anything else and they would find out just how much tolerance they had to snow on their naked bodies.

“I’ll collect in due time, my lady.” He gave a somewhat graceful bow, or what he hoped looked graceful, that pulled a soft laugh from her lips and then took his leave. The sound of her laughter lifted his heart. No doubt in his mind this Christmas was the last they’d spend apart.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

She’d had sex with Aspen Kennedy.

Oh my God.

Bare.

And loved it.

Holy shit.

What had she been thinking?

She couldn’t dwell on that for long though she was tempted to reach beneath her pillow for her battery operated boyfriend to work out some of the tension he’d left her with.

Maybe later.

Instead, the second Ivy’s eyes sprang open the next morning—long before her alarm had the chance to chime—she shoved aside the dirty thoughts populating her mind and set to work. Wide-eyed, she flicked on the coffee maker, straightened her blazer and hiked up her mistletoe cotton bottoms as she pulled up a stool. All business north of the elastic belt line and all comfy at home otherwise. Including the jingle of her reindeer slipper, which she understood now given she’d met Rocco. And she couldn’t complain about the soft, warm feeling wrapped around her toes.

Beams of morning light broke through the thin fabric of the kitchen curtains. Another sip of go-go juice and she hit the green dial button. Not one to wait, she’d bumped up the time for the rescheduled conference call and hoped Mr. Langley would take her call.

After Aspen left yesterday, she spent the rest of the afternoon finishing the upstairs with the fresh paint and new curtains. Every inch of her body ached from the work and unexpected trip down memory lane. Not to mention other parts of her body.

She patted her hair to make sure nothing poked out. It would take two weeks to get all the droplets of bone-white paint out of her hair. Aspen had been right. It did look like tiny snowflakes. By the time midnight tolled on the grandfather clock, she had no desire to mess with it, opting for an epic swan dive between the covers.

But sleep eluded her. Again. All-night dreams of Aspen interrupted her sleep until she gave up and grabbed her planner.

On some level, she knew something had changed yesterday with Aspen. He’d surprised her with first the sex and then the ice skates and at first, she’d wanted to run far and fast. Yet she hadn’t.

The way he looked at her spurred her into a frenzy of action. Aspen belonged in the past like her ice skates, but thatsomethingthat had changed between them chiseled at her resolve even now.

Sure sex changed people, but neither of them committed to anything but a little momentary fun. A fling with the past.

She shook her head to clear the trail of thoughts her brain wanted to follow instead of where it needed to be and fast. Getting her next job. And out of Dixen.

Ivy pressed the phone to her ear and waited as Mr. Langley’s secretary patched her through to his office. “I’m surprised to hear from you so early, Ms. Winters.” Mr. Langley spoke with a hybrid accent that bordered between New England and Old-World England as though he grew up between the two. His aging vocals lent his words a roughened edge that could easily be confused with James Earl Jones.

When she met Mr. Langley in person two days prior, his tailored suit, round spectacles and posh office located in the Wall Street sector of New York City confirmed everything she envisioned from his voice. Old money. Except, he had more experience in trading and corporate dealings than acting according to the collection of Time and Forbes magazine covers that adorned his office wall. Like her brother Jon, this man lived for the thrill of a business deal and that was why Mr. Langley agreed to the venture of a small inn for his wife several years back, she’d learned.

Ivy recognized the spark in his eye the second they met. To her, it all seemed very tedious and overwhelming to be in control of so many other’s futures.

“I’m sorry for missing our call the day before yesterday, Mr. Langley. I was in a small accident. Thank you for agreeing to reschedule.”

“Yes, yes. Of course, my dear. Nothing too serious I hope,” Mr. Langley offered with the proper hint of worry. As the senior member of one of the richest families in New York, every reaction he had was probably measured like his suits. All customized to fit each situation.

“Not at all. Just a little scary. A friend was there to help. I’m fine and ready to work. If you are still interested, that is.” She pulled her planner over and flipped to the day after Christmas.

“Yes, yes. Of course. Mrs. Langley is already anticipating your arrival, dear. I know it is short notice but my wife is determined to have the best for our son and his soon-to-be bride this coming spring.”

---