Holiday Crush (The Elmwood Stories #3) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: The Elmwood Stories Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
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“That shirt was the bomb,” I said, stepping around an empty box.

“I bet my mom still has mine.” Ivan looped his arm in mine and sighed. “Gah, they look so pretty. Which do you like better? The black or the evergreen?”

Good question.

We’d positioned the trees side by side, the traditional tree was taller than the black one, both were adorned with hundreds of blinking white lights, dozens of red and silver ornaments, and faux holly branches. They looked tasteful and sophisticated, whimsical without trying too hard. Like Ivan.

“I can’t decide. Somehow, they look good together,” I mused aloud, sitting on the chaise end of the sofa.

Ivan curled up beside me, tangling his legs through mine like a pretzel, “Silent Night” playing softly in the background. “They do. Thanks for helping. You’ve decorated your heart out for the holidays this season. Snowflakes at the coffee shop, garland and wreaths on Main Street, and now…this. Congrats on escaping Scrooge-dom.”

“You know, I was perfectly content with my Scrooge-dom,” I huffed without heat.

“Oh, admit it, this is better, isn’t it?”

Yes, it was.

But it wasn’t the trees or the constant barrage of festivities in town that made this holiday seem better and full of unspoken promise. It was Ivan.

I studied his profile in the flicker of lights—his long eyelashes, straight nose, and strong jaw. He was pretty in the way unexpected things were…like red appliances and funky-colored Christmas trees. He was beautiful from the inside out.

And fuck, there went my heart again—thumping so hard against my ribs, I was sure Ivan could hear it. My palms went clammy too, and my mouth was bone dry. I’d never felt this way before, but I didn’t need a doctor to tell me what was wrong. I was falling for this guy.

Shit, I was…fucked.

I didn’t have time for feelings. I didn’t have my life together and I wasn’t ready to settle down. I didn’t know where I’d be next month, let alone next year. I had nothing to offer this man. Nothing.

But he looked so pretty in the twinkling lights and his smile was a moonbeam, and his body was so warm next to mine. Everything I wanted was here…right here with him.

Yeah, I was totally fucked.

10

IVAN

It was snowing. Real flakes of beautiful icy wonder drifting lazily from the late afternoon sky and covering Main Street. I peered out the shop window, admiring the thin blanket of white on the florist’s awning and on the hood of the Jeep parked out front. We’d had a few flurries over the past couple of weeks, but nothing stuck for long. This snow wasn’t going anywhere soon. It looked like we’d get a true winter wonderland holiday after all.

I zipped my jacket, wrapped my scarf around my neck, and picked up the two to-go cups on the counter. “Later, Mazie. Thank you for closing. You’re a doll, and I appreciate everything you do.”

“Thanks,” Mazie replied, a smile tugging the corner of her mouth.

“Happy holidays, good tidings and—”

“Out. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ive.”

I nudged the door open with my shoulder, shivering at the first blast of Arctic wind.

With only three days left till Christmas, I should have been exhausted, but this was my season. My time to shine!

I lived for holiday movie marathons, shopping in crowded cinnamon-scented stores, and wrapping gifts with Rudolph and Frosty the Snowman anthems in the background. The closer the calendar moved to the twenty-fifth, the easier it had always been for me to block any and all unwanted noise. This year, nothing negative could possibly penetrate my happy space. My family was healthy, my business was thriving, and I had a very sexy, super amazing man in my life.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a few legit worries too.

Running the coffee shop with one employee wasn’t easy, and neither was this constant low-grade concern about Stacy. She’d seemed distant and preoccupied during my recent visits. I figured she was restless and nervous about the baby, but I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something she wasn’t telling me. It didn’t make sense, though. We talked about everything and business-wise, we were totally transparent.

For example, when I caved and hired one of Mazie’s friends mid-December to help with the holiday rush, Stacy was all for it. When I reported that I spoke to Penny almost daily about our ideas to pair some of Henderson’s famous baked goods with our teas and coffees, Stacy seemed relieved. But in both instances, she changed the topic immediately and honestly, I wasn’t sure what to think about that.

I chose to believe she was content to be out of the loop to concentrate on the baby, and I wanted to give her space to do that—and hopefully avoid another “we should sell” tangent. This distance was weird, though. If she hadn’t shut me down, I’d have shared that Court was the one who’d encouraged me not to leave the partnership conversation with his parents for after the holidays.



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