Winter Gifts: Changing Seasons, #1

By Kelliea Ashley

Winter Gifts

Changing Seasons Book One

Word Count: 59,508

A blizzard, a hunky chef, and an accident-prone milkmaid, ingredients for a passionate fling, or a recipe for a blazing romance, hot enough for a lifetime of winters?

When Maxine Grant finds herself out in the freezing rain of a winter storm, an unlikely hero comes to her rescue. Brice Vanzetti is not only a moody Hunky chef, he’s the owner of a new black Lexus sporting a red scratch on the bumper. A red that perfectly matches Jilly, her beloved car. Maxine isn’t looking for a knight in shining armor, but is it too much to ask that he comes with a sense of humor along with the hot, hard body?

Brice already has a lot on his plate just keeping his restaurant running. He doesn’t have the time to deal with a woman who drives a rust bucket and doesn’t know when to come in out of the icy rain. She may have left a mark on his car, but Brice is determined she won’t put a dent in his resolve to remain a bachelor. No matter how sexy she looks when she’s mad!

Forced to seek shelter together in his house, more heats up than Brice’s hot chocolate! Stormed in with nowhere to go, Brice and Maxine can keep their differences between them, or give in to the sensual heat and accept the gifts winter has bestowed upon them.   

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kelliea Ashley
• Release date: May 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507085981

Kelliea Ashley

As an author I am truly astounded by the couples in my life. How two completely different individuals with differing backgrounds, beliefs, and motivations can somehow overcome it all to find the good in one another has to be the very definition of magic. I grew up with very little, but my Mother taught me to find happiness in the most obscure details of my life. She encouraged me to tell her stories and dream of a future where we had everything we needed. Out of our poverty I received a true love of writing that was nurtured throughout my schooling and became a hobby when I reached adulthood. My husband Joshua gave me the gentle push to get published and I owe him for seeing my dream of becoming an author come to reality. Never stop dreaming, reaching for more, or wanting a better life filled with love and magic. In my spare time I like to dabble in gardening and crafts, but honestly I love spending time with my husband and furbabies. I have two dogs, Sampson and Delilah, and a cat named Snowflake. Snowflake is my muse, so she has her own little bed positioned at the end of my desk. Thank you for choosing to read my work out of the numerous titles available to you. I hope you check out some of my other titles. Connect with Kelliea Twitter- @AshleyKelliea Amazon- https://www.amazon.com/Kelliea-Ashley/e/BOOFAE199C [e-mail]

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Kelliea Ashley

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Winter Gifts

Changing Seasons Book One

Copyright 2015 Kelliea Ashley

ISBN:

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

Dedications-

For Joyce L. Willmert, who raised me to believe in my dreams and gave me the stubborn determination to make them come true. Christmas time was her favorite holiday, so it is only fitting that Winter Gifts be dedicated in her honor and memory. I didn't know how lucky I was to have her as a mother until she left me far too soon. Love you, Mom.

––––––––

Special thanks to my Editor, Sally Mander, Cover Artist, Mina Carter, my publisher Justyn Perry and my family at the former Breathless Press. BP will forever be the publishing house where I learned to be an author and an editor. My dreams took flight at Breathless Press and I will never forget the wonderful people who still hold a place in my heart.

Chapter One

Maxine Grant loved driving down the main street of her small town during the holidays. All of the street lights were dressed with colorful wreaths and garland. Her bright smile dimmed as she pulled up to the Stay and Play daycare center where she worked. An expensive-looking Lexus was sitting in her spot, leaving just enough room for her to park between it and her boss's much older Caravan. She signaled as she backed into the space. Her touchy brakes and the slushy snow on the side of the street made her nervous as her car came to a stop mere inches from Alyssa's vehicle.

Okay, Jilly. We can do this, girl. She patted the steering wheel with confidence before shoving the shifter into drive. Her little car turned into the parking space just fine, but when she pushed her booted foot on the brakes there was very little pressure. No! Stop! Her body jerked against the seat belt as she heard a metallic crunch. A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach made her want to cry as she quickly put the car in reverse and backed up a foot.

Max slowly got out to survey the damage. Her feet slipped on the snow as she stopped between the two vehicles. The damage to the elegant rear bumper of the Lexus was minimal. There was a slight scratch in the black paint with some red paint from her car mixed in. She reached out to touch the small scratch, but quickly pulled her hand back when she heard the low muttered curse of an angry male.

Lord love a woman driver! No man in their right mind does! The low throaty growl belonged to Brice Vanzetti, owner of the injured vehicle. Max felt a shiver of dread race down her spine as she turned to watch him cross the street toward her. Max didn't want to notice how intimidating he looked with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black leather jacket. The chilly winter breeze ruffled his short brown hair, and his gray eyes almost matched the ominous clouds above them. His mouth was firm with restrained violence as he stood next to her and stared down at the black and red streak decorating his brand new Lexus.

Who gave you a driver's license? His gray eyes narrowed with irritation as his lips pulled back in an angry sneer.

The State of New York. She bit her lip the second the quick response left her mouth. He looked over at her with a scowl. I'm sorry. My brakes didn't grab—

Big surprise, he huffed out between perfectly white clenched teeth.

What's that supposed to mean?

Have you seen the pile of scrap metal you drive around?

Don't insult Jilly. She's testy. She felt a jolt of adrenaline as his firm lips pulled into a half smile. It transformed his face into a handsome mask with the kind of mouth that just tempted a woman to taste him.

Of course you named the rust bucket. He rolled his shoulders to alleviate some tension as he bent down and ran a long finger over the scratch. It will need some new paint.

I have my insurance information. We don't need to call the police. I'll pay for the touch-up paint.

When I say paint, I mean it will need to be sanded and painted. Refinished properly; the entire bumper will need to be done. He eyed her vehicle, again. The red paint job was pinged in several places and the new scratch on her bumper seemed to blend in with all the rest. I'm betting you don't have the kind of cash to deal with it.

I have insurance. Her jaw hurt as her own teeth ground together. Her infamous temper was close to the surface as she clenched her fists to keep herself from letting him know he was insulting her. Look, we got off to a bad start. I'm Maxine Grant. She stuck her hand out to him with a forced, but friendly smile.

Do me a favor, Miss Grant. Don't park anywhere near my vehicle or my restaurant from now on. He ignored her hand and walked away from her to get into his car. She glared at him and his sleek, black vehicle as he pulled out onto the street and drove away.

Well, Happy Holidays to you too, Mr. Grumpy. Her boots crunched on the snow as she stepped onto the side walk and went into the Stay and Play. Alyssa Mason, owner of the daycare center, gave her a sympathetic look as she hung her jacket up and absorbed the heat.

I saw. How bad did you damage Hunky Chef's car? Alyssa's use of the nickname they'd playfully given Vanzetti made Max want to cringe. The man was a hunk, but his gruff personality and biting remarks definitely dented the small crush she'd had on the man.

A tiny red scratch on his bumper. She couldn't help cringing.

Oh...it was such a nice bumper, too. Alyssa fluttered her mascara-covered lashes, her blue eyes sparkling as she laughed at Max's shudder. How much is it going to cost you?

Nothing. He thinks I'm too poor to pay for a professional paint job. He actually called Jilly a rust bucket. The man is sexy as heck, but annoying as a fly in my butter.

He pushed your buttons in the wrong way. Alyssa grinned as she watched Max shove an agitated hand through her dark bangs.

He insulted me and Jilly. I put a teeny, tiny scratch in his paint. I could cover it with a dot of nail polish, but he carried on like it was the end of the world. I apologized, but do you think he'd accept it? Oh, no! Not that arrogant, rude, impossible male! Max growled through clenched teeth as her temper rose. Alyssa cleared her throat noisily, bringing Max back to her surroundings. The children were close enough to hear her, which mortified her. I'm sorry I'm ranting. Are we at nap time, yet?

Nope. Story time. They wanted you to read to them. I don't do the voices any justice, apparently. Alyssa shrugged and led the way into the main room. Seven children ages one to four years old looked up from playing.

Who wants to read about the frog prince? Max was bombarded by little ones who all wanted her to read different books. She pushed the frustration of her bad day to the back of her emotional closet and set about making seven kids' imaginations grow.

Sitting cross-legged in the designated reading corner, Max waited until all seven children were seated in a circle upon the padded mats. When everyone was settled and quiet she opened the Frog Prince and began to read. She stopped mid-sentence as little Olivia's tiny hand flew up.

Yes, Olivia? The little girl was only two-and-a-half-years old and already full of more questions than some of the older children.

My mommy told me not to kiss frogs. They're dirty! She scrunched her adorable little face up, making the other kids giggle and start giving their loud opinions on frogs.

Your mommy is right, Olivia. But the frog in this story is very special. He's one-of-a-kind special. Max tried not to laugh as her eyes met Alyssa's comical look.

So, how do we know if a frog's special? We have to kiss them all! Sally grinned as she made kissing noises towards one of the boys. Mica squealed as he got up and sought protection by sitting close to Max. Sally was going to give her parents a run for their money.

That is not a good idea, Sally. Some frogs can make you sick. Max smiled as Mica hugged her arm when Sally rapidly blinked her lashes at him.

Max, if we can't kiss the frogs, then how do we get a prince? Olivia tilted her head, her expression full of serious concern.

Well, you certainly don't scratch his rear...fender. Alyssa laughed as Max sent her a warning look.

Olivia, when you are all grown up a prince, who deserves you, will find you. So, until then let's leave the poor frogs alone. She grinned up at Alyssa, tempted to stick her tongue out at her.

Max had just finished the story when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. The Stay and Play was her second job, she was the owner and caretaker of her family's farm. A call from home meant trouble.

The joys of owning a small family dairy farm included broken equipment, sick animals, low milk prices, and the necessity of holding down a second job to pay the bills. Now, the Massey Ferguson didn't want to start. Her cousin Daniel needed her to pick up some parts from Joe's Garage on her way home. Max sighed as she decided Jilly could use a brake job as well.

Time for a nap, kiddies! She met Alyssa's nod of agreement and set about getting the kids to their designated mats. Once every child was curled on their mats with blankets and their pillows, Max sank down at the craft table beside Alyssa.

I can't wait to get home and curl up with a glass of wine and a good book. Alyssa sighed as she watched the kids. No one was sleeping, but at least they were quiet for a bit.

Rub it in. I have two loads of manure, broken water pipes, and a night of fixing the tractor ahead of me.

This hasn't been a good day for you, huh? Alyssa gave her hand a sympathetic pat.

Nope. The highlight being when I scratched Brice Vanzetti's pretty fender. The humiliation hadn't fully left her, yet. What must he think of her?

Yup. He had a really nice fender, too. Alyssa's blue eyes twinkled with mischief. Max found herself smiling back at her.

Yeah, well I tagged it. It's mine, now. She shook her head, blushing uncontrollably as Alyssa's brows rose in surprise.

Point taken, my friend. I think nap time is a waste of effort. No one is sleeping and Mica just took Ben's blanket and is hitting him with it. Alyssa huffed out a frustrated breath. Max couldn't help smiling as she shrugged a shoulder.

And you once said you wanted three kids when you grew up.

I was so wrong. Alyssa smiled. If this falls through, I'm expecting a job as a milkmaid, you know.

"Yeah, then you'll be outnumbered by even bigger kids who really don't listen to you."

Chapter Two

Max was exhausted when she finally pulled into the farm's driveway. She hated being so late getting home. It usually meant a late milking with irritated animals and less time for sleep. It couldn't be helped, though. She'd had Bill Armstrong, a mechanic at Joe's Garage, take a look at Jilly's brakes after work. Bill added brake fluid, as he chided her on ignoring her gauges. Two men doubting her feminine wits in one day was enough for Max. She sighed in defeat as her brakes worked perfectly on the way home.

She parked Jilly beside her half-sister's big white Blazer. A hair stylist with her own shop in town named Rebecca's Styles, she was doing all right on her own. Becky's life was simple and easy, no spreading cow manure in the dark fields with frozen fingers and toes for her. Nope, Becky left the farm at eighteen and never looked back. Seeing Becky's vehicle in the driveway was a little disconcerting. Becky's late night visits were always a bad omen. Yep, this day was just getting better and better.

Sure enough, Becky was sitting at the long dining room table with Helen Grant, Max's step-mother. Helen was saying something under her breath when Max entered the room.

Hi.

Maxine, you're home late. Dan is already out at the barn. He's started chores, but I'm sure he'd be glad of the help to get done early, Helen suggested.

I've got to change, first. Becky, you're here late. Is everything all right?

I can't come visit my mother whenever I want? Becky raised dark brows over startling blue eyes the color of sapphires. Her long blonde hair was streaked with highlights and pulled back into an elegant braid. Max's father had called Becky his china doll when he was alive. She'd been treated as such since she was born.

Max felt like a work horse standing next to her sister. Comparatively, Max was three inches taller, twenty pounds heavier, curvy and wide hipped. Her dark brown hair was wild and wavy and she was forced to have bangs to cover her wide forehead. Her eyes were almost as dark as her hair. She took after her Native American mother and was anything but a china doll. Often times she felt like the sturdy stand the china doll stood on.

Don't be ridiculous. I was just wondering why you're visiting this late when you hate driving in the dark.

I was bored. Corey won't be home for a couple hours, so I came to have dinner here with you guys. I am still welcome here, right?

Don't be ridiculous, Becky. Helen gave her daughter a look before turning back to Max. Maxine, why don't you go change, dear? Dinner will be ready when you get in. Dress warm, it's really blowing out there. Helen nodded her graying head toward the window.

Max hated milking in the cold. Her fingers froze and her body sweated through her thick shirt as she milked the cows as fast as she could while making sure they were completely milked out. The constant dunking of her hands in the wash water to cleanse their udders cracked the skin on her knuckles. Her grandfather used to say the colder the better! The cattle liked it cold. Of course they did! They had leather jackets and four stomachs creating massive amounts of body heat.

Gramps spent his entire life taking care of his girls, even after her father took over the farm. Now, they were both gone, but their girls were still there. She owed it to them to pick up where they left off. Sure, there were times when she wished she didn't have to go out in the freezing cold at four in the morning, but it was worth it. The cows always greeted her and, as Gramp's scratchy voice reminded her, they gave back the love she gave them.

There was a system she and her cousin stuck to in order to get everything done in the shortest time possible. Dan fed the cattle silage with the feed cart and cleaned the gutters after she was done milking. He scraped up and bedded the cattle with shredded hay while she cleaned and sanitized the milking equipment. Once finished, they stood at the bulk tank for several minutes catching up on things that needed to be done the following day. Max liked her cousin, adored his two daughters, and considered his wife, Piper, her friend.

Tired, cold, and exhausted, Max went into the mud room and changed out of her barn boots, socks, and pants. In her T-shirt and thermal pants she went into the small shower room. Her body's aches and pains eased as the hot water ran over her. She dressed in a tank top and pajama bottoms, brushed and braided her long brown hair, and went into the house. The kitchen smelled like fried chicken. In the dining room the two women were sitting at the table already eating.

There she is. Sorry we didn't wait for you, Maxine. Becky has to go home soon. How was the milking? Helen asked as she moved the food dishes closer to Max.

Cold, but milk weights are up with Bernadette being able to go into the tank.  Bernie was a third-year cow whose milk had to be dumped for ten days while she was being treated for milk fever. Penicillin was a farmer's enemy. Dinner smells good. Max filled her plate and poured herself a glass of juice. She was always starving when she came in from working in the cold barn.

Maxine, you'd be a lot slimmer if you didn't smother your food with salt and butter. Becky eyed the pile of food on Max's plate as she barely picked at her tiny amount of food.

Leave Max alone. She works hard enough to lose the extra calories. Helen offered Max a supportive smile. Max