Page 73 of Second Chance Christmas

And the hardest, hottest body she couldn’t get enough of. But she kept that to herself.

Ivy nodded at Ms. Lucille’s words. “He does. He’ll make a good husband one day.”

“I agree. You guys will make the perfect team. It’s about time you guys got your second chance.”

That had her choking on the last bite of pie. “You sound so sure.”

“I saw that kiss in the gazebo. He’s not playing. From the look in her gaze and the way you kissed him back, you’re not fooling anyone, missy.”

That gave Ivy pause. “Am I crazy to think it’s possible, Ms. Lucille?”

“Anything is possible if you want it bad enough, dear. Sometimes it just takes knowing what youdon’twant to see what you really want. You need to remember, I knew you when you were youngsters. And I know real love when I see it.” She paused and patted Ivy’s hand before standing. “Enough of the mushy stuff. Let’s have some fun. It’s almost time for the ugly sweater contest and we need to get you in the running. Don’t want all that hard knitting time to go to waste. Plus, Santa has a hard-on for this kind of stuff.” Out came the sweater she desperately didn’t want to wear.

“Look, it even matches your red skirt and white blouse. Oh, honey, you missed a button.”

“What?” Ivy looked down. “Oh!”

Ms. Lucille’s eyes lit with mischief. “Nice sleigh ride?”

The heat that hit Ivy’s face had to be glowing bright red.

“Come, let’s see if that sweater of yours can beat mine and Charlie’s. We both can use a new set of frying pans. Those always come in handy for newly married couples.”

Ivy opened her mouth and then shut it when Ms. Lucille challenged her to say anything with her renowned stare honed from years of teaching.

She looped her arms through hers, Santa’s knitted hard-on on full display hanging down her chest. “Yes, ma’am. Lead the way.”

They made their way through the crowd and she slipped out of her coat and passed it to Mr. Murphy.

“Wish me luck.”

“Oh dear.” Ms. Lucille and Mrs. Murphy cringed in unison. “Yes, I think you have a real chance of winning this one.”

“Charming, I know,” she shrugged and stepped in line with the other contestants. Smiling faces looked back at her and the fun commenced.

Two hundred eyeballs looked on and she swore she could hear the seconds tick by and the tiny gasps. The mayor walked across the stage with his clipboard and took notes, taking extra time when he noticed Santa’s nipples also blinked. Ten minutes later she walked away with second place winner and a blender for her efforts. Ms. Lucille and Charles, on the other hand, made working as a duo look easy with their matching ugly sweaters.

As the cheers died down the flock of on-lookers migrated to the cookie contest a few feet over.

Silence fell over the crowd as the mayor ascended the stairs once again to perform the taste test that would determine if the Hardt and December feud would finally come to an end. Or if it would continue for another year. She predicted the latter, but she kept that to herself. If she mumbled even a word of her suspicions, Mr. December might need smelling salts with how the color had leached from his cheeks from worry.

From beside her Mrs. December made a sound of impatience and tugged Ivy’s hand into her own for support. “I think if this goes on for another year I might up and move to Florida. At least there I won’t have to worry about baking. It would be too hot!”

Ivy laughed lightly and wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulders for support as they watched Dixen’s mayor take the first bite of Hardt’s then the second of Mr. December’s cookies.

Yep, she could tell by the way he equally rolled his eyes.

Mrs. December didn’t find the mayor’s expression at all funny. If she had known it would be so nerve-wracking Ivy would have offered to bring some of her eggnog and wine.

“TIE!” A commotion of cheers, whoops and boos rang out through the throng of people to the shocked expressions of Hardt and December.

“Called it!” Aspen hollered from beside her and confirmed her exact thoughts.

“Yep. I think everyone but the Decembers and Hardts saw that coming.”

“I think the mayor knows his answer before he even takes a bite.”

“True. He’s probably keeping the cookie feud going so he can get reelected each year. You know, so in the hopes of one day finally picking a favorite.”

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