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MY CHEERFUL HOLIDATE
SNOWFLAKES & HOLIDATES

LAST CHAPTER PRESS LLC


ANASTASIA AUSTIN
Copyright © 2022 by Anastasia Austin

Cover Design: Last Chapter Press LLC


Editing: Last Chapter Press LLC

Last Chapter Press LLC


8790 F St, Box 18c, Omaha NE 68106

All rights reserved.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and
incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely
coincidental.
This material may be protected by copyright.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.

Contact Last Chapter Press at info@lastchapterpress.com for permission.


L AST CHAPTER PRESS STEAMY
ROMANCE

We are Last Chapter Press, a new and upcoming, woman-owned,


romance publishing press.
Last Chapter Press strives to provide readers with a romance
story that they’ll love until the very last word of that last chapter…
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M Y C H E E R F U L H O L I D AT E I N F O

She left her high school sweetheart behind. He regrets


letting her go. When she shows up at his mountain lodge
ten years later, will they discover their second chance to
rekindle the magic?

Aimee
I’ve tried not to be a disappointment to my parents.
I went to college because that’s what they thought I should do. I
took a job I hated because my dad thought it was perfect for me.
Then, I got fired and I’m scared to tell my parents.
I just need one more night to find my courage and the snow is
coming down fast.
The only place to stay is my ex-boyfriend’s mountain lodge.
Killian Tucker isn’t the spindly teenager I remember. Now, he’s
broad, bearded, and accomplished so much.
Will escaping my parents’ judgement for one more night turn into
the second chance with Killian I always wished for or will it be a new
line on my list of disappointments?

Killian
Running a successful business might make it look like I have my life
together but I’m still missing an important piece of myself.
A snow storm brings that piece into my lodge. In the curvy shape of
my high school sweetheart, Aimee Burris.
She needs a place to sleep but I just rented out my last room.
When she agrees to stay with me, I do everything I can to remind
her why we should be together again.
But will it take more than Christmas cheer to convince her to stay
forever?
You won't want to miss out on these heartwarming, humorous,
instalove stories, perfect for celebrating the gift of love this holiday
season. Go on a date with your next book boyfriend. No cheating.
No cliffhangers. Always a happily ever after.
CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
CHAPTER 1

A imee
If I stand out here much longer, I’m going to freeze to death.
The snow falls at a steady pace now. Every thick flake that lands on
my face melts and runs down, under the collar of my coat, soaking
the neck of my favorite ugly Christmas sweater.
It seemed like the easiest thing in the world, get out of the car
and walk into the house. If only what waited for me on the other
side of the wreath-adorned door wasn’t my father’s disappointment
when I tell him I got fired.
Any other job, it wouldn’t be a big deal. He’d hug me and tell me
everything will be all right. There’s no way he’s going to hug me for
losing the job I wouldn’t have gotten without his help. My dad pulled
strings. Very short ones that I’ve probably broken permanently.
If only I’d told my dad “no” when he offered to make those calls.
I didn’t want the job. I’m a small-town girl, through and through.
After college, that’s where I wanted to find a job. Someplace like
home. Being project manager at the largest tech company on the
planet in one of the biggest cities was the furthest thing from home.
Failure was inevitable. I knew I’d never find my place there. Never
be happy.
A figure crosses the living room window, casting a shadow on the
sheer curtains drawn over it. My heart flutters in a panic against my
ribs. I climb back into the driver’s seat of my car careful not to slam
the door behind me. The rapid beat continues not knowing what the
hell I’m going to do.
My options are limited. It’s after 10 p.m. on Christmas Eve eve in
one of the smallest of small towns. I’d be lucky to find a hotel for
miles that isn’t booked solid.
I bring up the browser on my phone and search for other
options. There’s only one I’m aware of but I’m not prepared for that
encounter either. If there’s anything else, anything at all, I’ll take it.
But there isn’t anything else. The only place showing an opening
is just outside city limits. Up the mountain at the What Cheer Lodge.
The gorgeous mountain getaway owned and managed by Killian
Tucker, also known as the only man I’ve ever loved.
I groan and try to rub away the stress ache growing fast in my
stomach.
It’s not that Killian and I ended on bad terms. The decision to
break up was mutual. We got into different colleges, in different
states. Instead of risking a bad break-up later from the stress of a
long-distance relationship, we decided to break up before we left to
preserve our friendship. Not even our friendship survived the
distance.
We tried to stay in touch but after a year, then two, the phone
calls, then the texts, and finally the occasional comment on social
media stopped. After I graduated, I thought about trying to
reconnect with Killian but so much time had passed without a word
it just didn’t feel right. Sort of shallow and, I don’t know, he
deserves better than a “Long time, no see” sliding into his DMs from
an old girlfriend that ghosted him for no good reason.
Not no good reason. Well… not a great reason. I hadn’t done
anything with my life. I got the college degree, but I wasn’t happy
with what it could do for me. And I didn’t want Killian to find out
that we’d broken up for nothing because college didn’t do a damn
thing to better my life. Leaving him for it was the worst decision I
ever made. So, yeah. I’ve avoided him the last several years, afraid
of finding out he’s been doing just fine without me. Because I know
he is. He owns his own lodge, for crying out loud.
My car windows are completely frosted over now. I should just
go inside and face the crushing guilt sure to come with breaking my
dad’s heart.
Or I could avoid that pain for one more day and have a where-
are-they-now reunion with my high school sweetheart.
Where am I now, you ask? Well, Killian. I’m jobless, soon to be
homeless, and forever loveless. But it’s great seeing you again.
It just goes to show what scares me more, my dad’s judgment or
my ex-boyfriend’s ridicule, as I start up my car to head for the What
Cheer Lodge.
CHAPTER 2

K illian
“And a very Merry Christmas to you, too,” I tell the young couple
handing them the key to their room.
I’ve been on my feet all day, the overstuffed sofa in the lobby
next to the roaring fire in the rustic stone fireplace is calling my
name as I finish the daily audit. With only a couple of clicks left to
save my spreadsheet, the front door swings open. Cold air and a
flurry of snow waft in. My jaw drops when the one woman I never
thought I’d see again follows the sparkling flakes as though the
storm itself carried her here.
At first, I wonder if she’s just a figment of my imagination. A
manifestation of all the times I’ve dreamt of this very moment.
“Aimz,” I say and her head whips my way. Long wavy locks swish
over her shoulders under her knit hat. Her eyes are wide and
unblinking when she finds me. I’m guessing she didn’t expect me to
be here at this hour.
I shouldn’t have been. Normally, I wouldn’t be working the front
desk this late but I live here, in the cottage only a few paces from
the main lodge. The way the snow is coming down, I decided to
send my staff home early to be with their families, just in case it
doesn’t let up and so they won’t get stuck up here until after
Christmas.
I’ve always thought Christmas holds a special kind of magic. I
believe it even more watching the Christmas wish I’ve made many
times before walk my way. “Welcome to the What Cheer Lodge.”
“Killian. My God, it’s been way too long.” She drops her bags and
her eyes well with tears as I come around the front desk, gather her
in my arms lifting her feet off the floor.
Her body is soft and all of her curves fit against me so perfectly
that I never want to put her down. She even smells the same. Like
honey and apples.
I hesitate to put her back down, give her the room to run away
from me again but Christmas is on my side with the weather out
there growing more frightful by the minute. She’s not going
anywhere in this storm.
Which is why I have to ask her, “Why are you here and not at
your parent’s house?” She would have had to drive past their house
to get up the mountain.
Aimee chews the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit she never
could break.
“What happened?” I ask.
She takes a step back, out of my hold on her and I have to
refrain from pulling her back in. God, how I’ve missed holding her.
“It’s kind of a long story.”
“Give me the abridged version.”
“Basically, I’m running from my problems.”
“Maybe a little more detail than that. Come on.” I pick up her
bags and set them behind the desk, then guide her to the big, comfy
couch in the lobby. I offer her a seat on the couch, while I face her
sitting on the coffee table, my knees bracketing hers as I take her
hands and hold them in her lap. “Spill it.”
Aimee’s chest rises with a deep breath, and when she lets it out,
she confesses, “I got fired.”
“Oh, Aimz. I’m sorry. Is there anything I—”
She holds up a hand. “It’s fine. I didn’t want the job to begin
with. It’s a relief to be done with it.”
“Wait. Is this the job at that big tech company your dad got you
the interview for?”
“How did you know about that?” she asks, her voice pitching up
into dog whistle territory.
“Have you forgotten the power of small-town gossip?”
She side-eyes me. She knows I hate getting involved in that crap.
I tell her the truth, “Your mom let it slip when I ran into her a
few months back.”
Panic fills Aimee’s eyes. She asks with a tremor in her voice,
“What else did she tell you?”
“Nothing much. Though, she might have mentioned you haven’t
been on a date in years?” I make it a question because I can’t
believe it. What men wouldn’t throw themselves at this woman’s
feet?
Ten years… I’ve known this whole time but seeing her now closes
even the smallest gap where doubt might have wormed its way in
and now I know for an absolute fact, I never stopped loving her. I’m
a fool for letting her go. I have nothing but luck to thank that she’s
here now and still single. I will not let her get away from me again.
“Ugh. Mom.” Aimee blushes and I take that as confirmation of
her mom’s assessment.
“Yeah. She acted kind of smug about it. If you ask me, I think
she might still have a bit of a couple crush on us.”
Aimee blushes an even deeper shade of red and I wonder if
maybe she still has a bit of a crush on us too.
“Well…” Aimee says with a sigh. “If you know about the
interview, I imagine you can guess why I don’t want to see my dad
right now.”
“He loves you to pieces. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“You’re probably right but I’m just not ready to face him yet.
Which brings us back to why I’m here.” She flashes me a big toothy
smile and tilts her head toward the front desk.
“Yeah. About that. I’m all out of rooms. Rented the last one
seconds before you walked in.”
Her eyes go wide again before she shifts them to look out the big
bank of windows on either side of the fireplace overlooking the
slopes.
“How cruel do you think I am?” I tease her. “I’m not sending you
back out in this storm.”
“I’m not about to squat on your couch here. Not exactly the
experience you want to give your guests.” With one hand on her
chest, she gestures around the room with the other announcing in
an exaggerated commercial voice, “Come stay at the What Cheer
Lodge. Wake up to a hot breakfast and a hot mess passed out by
the fire.”
We both have a good laugh at that one. It’s good to see she
hasn’t lost her sarcastic sense of humor.
“I’m sure everyone would understand considering the
circumstances with the weather being what it is but I was actually
going to suggest you stay at my place.”
“Oh, I hate to be an inconvenience—”
“Nonsense. Besides, I won’t even be there tonight. I’m on the
clock until after breakfast. Possibly all day depending on how long it
is before the roads are cleared.”
Aimee does her signature cheek chew. But this is her only option.
“If you don’t think it’s too much trouble.”
“Not at all. Come on. I’ll walk you,” I say, pulling her to her feet
and grabbing her bags on our way out.

A imee
My heart almost exploded when Killian wrapped his arms around
me. I loved how he held me like no time had passed. It would be
more believable if he were still the spindly-armed kid he was when I
left but he is most definitely not. Somewhere along the way, Killian
Tucker embraced the mountain and became the burly, bearded man
of every woman’s dreams. But especially mine. It’s a good thing I’ll
have his cottage to myself because I plan on imagining those seam-
popping arms around me again and those thick fingers of his doing
the work my hand will be doing later tonight.
“Make yourself at home,” Killian says as we shake off the snow
and cold just inside the door of his cottage. “The fridge is fully
stocked. I think I might even have some of those sweet pickles you
love so much.” After helping me out of my coat, he walks over to the
fridge.
“Bread and butter?” I ask.
He nods opening the refrigerator and pulling out the jar nearly
full of sliced pickles and the little mustard seeds floating near the
bottom.
“But you hate them,” I say, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Not anymore.”
“Who are you and what have you done with the real Killian?” I
ask lifting his arms and looking all around him.
He just chuckles at me. “What can I say? A lot of things have
changed in the last ten years.” When he puts the jar back in the
fridge, his chest meets mine. Even through his heavy parka, he’s
firm.
I should probably back up, but I don’t. I lift my chin to look him
in his stormy eyes and ask, “A lot of things but not everything,
right?”
He cranes down getting close enough our hot breath mingles. My
chest shudders struggling to find my next breath.
“Some things will never change,” he whispers.
There’s a moment, a long breathless moment when I think he
might make a move. Our eyes are locked, his tongue darts out to
wet his lips and I can’t help doing the same.
I wasn’t sure I wanted him to kiss me until he steps away from
me and says, “I should be getting back.”
That’s when I know I want nothing more than for Killian Tucker
to kiss me.
“Yeah, of course. I’m all set. Go,” I say but selfishly, I don’t mean
it. I’d rather he stay.
His hand is on the doorknob when he turns back. “I’m sorry for
the circumstances but I’m really glad you’re here.”
“So am I.”
Cold air wafts through the warm cottage when he opens the door
to trudge through the snow back to the lodge. Without him here to
distract me—wow, is he a good distraction—I finally take an honest
look around his place.
I always knew Killian had good taste but this place is impeccably
designed. It’s consistently rustic, down to every last detail. Even the
dish towels have a rustic charm with intentionally frayed edges.
Everything is a deep forest green and mahogany. Completely
masculine but so comforting and cozy. Most of all, clean.
As soon as I finish my surface-level tour of the little one-bedroom
cottage, I admit, I’m tempted to start digging. It’s been ten years. Is
it really so bad to want to find something that can tell me a little
about what he’s been up to all that time?
After a few minutes standing by his desk, tucked in the corner of
the living room, fighting with myself about opening that first drawer,
I overcome temptation and go back to the living room, plunk myself
down on the couch and take out my phone.
There’s a message from my mom.
Mom: Did you get someplace to stay before the snow got
too bad? Please reply. No matter how late. Just want to
know you’re safe.
Aimee: I’m safe and warm.
I wait for her answer though I’m sure she’s probably fallen asleep
by now.
To my surprise, a message comes through a few minutes later.
Mom: Oh good! I was about to send out a search party.
The storm is already slowing. If they get the roads cleared,
can we still expect you for dinner tomorrow night?
I groan wishing the storm would’ve lasted a little longer. Give me
a little more time before I have to face them. I consider telling her I
won’t be able to make it but if the storm doesn’t develop any further,
there’s no reason why I couldn’t.
Aimee: I’ll do my best.
Mom: Love you. Sleep tight.
I wish her goodnight and toss my phone on the coffee table
before my eyes drift to the door.
Killian won’t walk through it. He has to work all night. That
doesn’t stop me from wishing. I didn’t know what I’d feel when I
saw him again. I half expected embarrassment and shame but what
I really felt was the same way I always felt being with him. Love.
Safe. Home.
They say you can never go home again. It’s true. My parent’s
home hasn’t felt the same since I graduated and started living my
own life. There’s no feeling of home living in the city. I’ve gone so
long without feeling like I’m home, I wasn’t sure it was something
I’d ever feel again. Now I know I can feel it with Killian.
I’m almost glad I got fired. Maybe it’s what needed to happen to
give us the second chance we talked about before we went our
separate ways.
Or maybe this is just another thing that will go horribly wrong.
Groaning, I peel myself off the couch and go to the kitchen. I
should probably eat something. The last thing I ate was a roller grill
hot dog at a truck stop hours ago.
Taking Killian up on his offer, I grab a fork and the jar of bread
and butter pickles. I eat slice after slice while I peruse the rest of the
cabinets for something with a bit more substance but very little
effort needed to prepare. Until I open the cabinet stacked several
bottles deep with a number of different whiskeys.
“It may not fill my stomach but it’ll definitely keep me warm.” I
grab a bottle of Connemara peated Irish and a glass, then take my
seat on the couch again and pour myself a finger. The amber liquid
goes down smoothly. Smoky and sweet like butter cookies.
In no time, one drink turns into two, then three. I’m well and
truly buzzed but not so far gone that I don’t understand that I’m
using the alcohol to forget my troubles. Which is not like me, at all.
About the only time I have a drink is a beer or two at a baseball
game or my mom’s eggnog on Christmas Eve.
Oh, yeah. There’s something to look forward to tomorrow night.
And, hey, maybe it will help calm my nerves enough to give them
the bad news.
Is it a plan?
Not really. But it’s better than avoiding my parents until my dad
finds out from his buddy Garrett and they’re mad at me, not only for
getting fired but also for not telling them about it.
With a poor excuse for a plan but a plan nonetheless, I pour
myself another drink, and salute to no one before throwing it back
all in one gulp.
CHAPTER 3

A imee
A sliver of bright sunlight spills through a small crack in the
curtains of Killian’s bedroom. I barely remember falling asleep last
night. I certainly don’t remember coming to bed. I squint against the
light and the pounding headache as I look myself over. When did I
change into my pajamas?
As soon as my eyes adjust, I look around the room. Only the side
of the bed I’d been sleeping in is crumpled but on the bedside table
is a bottle of painkillers and a full glass of water.
“Oh, Killian,” I sigh with a smile.
He always could take better care of me than I could take care of
myself. It appears he hasn’t lost his touch.
Smiling through the hangover, I take the painkillers and down the
glass of water, thankful I didn’t get puke-drunk.
When I feel like I can make it across the room without too much
stumbling, I find my way to the bathroom across the hall. Again, I
find things laid out for me, my toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash,
the works.
It takes me longer than normal to put myself together. Somehow,
I manage to come out looking like a proper human being and not
the swamp monster I was when I first looked in the mirror. Not that
it will help me face my first level of shame for the day.
“Morning, sunshine,” Killian says, opening the oven as I walk into
the kitchen.
Oh my goodness is he a sexy sight? Looking like he walked out of
a lumberjack catalog. The beard, of course. But also the sleeves of
his flannel shirt rolled up to show off the corded muscles in his
forearms. And that ass, in those jeans, cuffed over his heavy work
boots. Chef’s kiss.
“Or should I say afternoon?” he asks.
“Oh, shit. Seriously?”
With a tray of freshly baked cookies in his oven-mitted hand, he
points to the clock on the stove with the other. It’s after two in the
afternoon.
“I’m so sorry. Did you even get any sleep? I totally monopolized
your bed,” I ask him.
“I took your place on the couch after I moved you into the
bedroom. However, I skipped the whiskey.” Killian winks, obviously
teasing.
There’s the hot blush of shame. Right on schedule. “I guess I
owe you a bottle, don’t I?”
“That or you could talk to me. Tell me why I found you passed
out with whiskey on your breath.”
“How do you know it was on my breath? Did you Sleeping Beauty
me? My prince,” I say, folding my hands and holding them next to
my cheek as I bat my eyelashes.
“Aimz. Don’t avoid the question.”
Dropping my hands with a huff, I answer, “I told you why. I got
fired. My dad’s going to be pissed.”
“There’s more to it than that. Spill it.”
All this time, Killian still knows me better than anyone. I want to
be mad at him for making me face this stuff. Reveal to him all the
things I’ve been hiding and why I’ve been hiding from him for so
long. It’s been years since anyone has given me this kind of tough
love but as I look at the gentleness and concern in his eyes, it’s what
I’ve been missing. That might be why I’ve floundered for so long.
Directionless in everything I do.
Knowing full well he’s not going to let this go until I tell him
everything, I take a deep breath. “It’s just another in a long line of
disappointments. Dad hated that I spent years floating from part-
time job to part-time job, wasting my degree. I didn’t have my own
apartment until I got the corporate position. He hated that I shared
rent with a couple of my college friends so I didn’t have to get a full-
time job. In his eyes, I’ve been wasting my potential.”
“You don’t think you have?”
“No? Yes? I don’t know. I guess, when I look back on it, I wish
I’d never gone to college. I wish…” I want to say, I wish we never
would’ve broken up.
If I hadn’t gone to college, maybe I could have gone with Killian.
We could have gotten a little apartment off campus. He could’ve
done the college thing while I tried to figure out what the hell I
wanted to do with my life. At this point, still not knowing what I
want to do with my life, I’m not sure that would’ve worked out so
well. What if he had gotten sick of me not having any direction, just
like my dad, and kicked me to the curb?
Maybe he wouldn’t have. There’s no judgment in his eyes now.
He gives me the softest smile that tells me he wishes things turned
out different too. It warms me better than any whiskey.
“You can’t go back,” Killian says, sweetly, handing me a
snowflake-shaped cookie with red and green sprinkles melting into
the dough. “So, you have to decide what you want to do going
forward.”
I huff a laugh through my nose. “If I haven’t figured that out by
now, almost thirty years old, I’m not sure I ever will.”
As I take a bite of the delicious Christmas cookie that melts on
my tongue, Killian throws his oven mitt on the counter. “Enough of
this moping about. It’s Christmas, damn it.” He turns around and
turns off the oven. “Get dressed. And make sure to bundle up.”
“Why? Where are we going? Can we even go anywhere? The
snow—.”
“They’re still working on the roads but we don’t need them.”
“Where are we going?” I ask again as he shoos me out of the
kitchen, and back to the bathroom.
“Ice skating.”
K illian
I wish I’d never gone to college.
Her words were both a knife in my heart and music to my ears. I
hate that she’s living with regret but I selfishly hope part of her
regrets breaking up as much as I do. I’d have been happy to take
her with me if that’s what she’d wanted. If she’d told me that she
didn’t want to go to college, I’d have insisted she come with me. But
like she said, she thought she had to go to college. She never
questioned it. It’s what we were supposed to do.
We can’t go back to change the past, that much is true, but we
can move forward. If I have my way, Aimee will move forward with
me.
Before I can spring my plans on her, she needs to talk to her
parents. Before she can do that, she needs cheering up. If she can
walk into her parents’ house with a smile on her face, maybe it will
help her dad see her situation in a different light. He’ll see it’s more
important that she’s happy than it is that she has the job he wanted
her to have.
“This is such a bad idea,” Aimee says teetering on her skates as
she takes to the ice.
I skate around her. Skating backwards, I take her hands and
squeeze. “I’ve got you.”
The snow stopped falling before dawn, and several of my
employees found their way to work even though I told them not to
chance it. One of them was my groundskeeper. He had the ice
cleared and prepped by the time the first of our guests finished
breakfast. That’s when I let my day manager take over the front
desk so I could get a couple of hours’ sleep. I had no idea I’d find
Aimee passed out on my couch next to a bottle of whiskey.
It was both the cutest and saddest thing I’d seen in a long time.
All I wanted to do was to fix all of her problems. I settled for making
her more comfortable.
Admittedly, it was difficult to cover her back up after taking her
clothes off. We’d taken each other’s virginity not long after we
started dating back in high school, so seeing her in her panties and
bra wasn’t anything new… I take that back. Her body has changed
as much as mine has in the last decade. She has a lot more curves
and a few tattoos in discreet places. There are, in fact, a lot of new
things to learn about my Aimee.
If I have my way, we’ll have all the time in the world to learn
everything about each other that we’ve missed.
“Whoa,” I say catching Aimee under her arms before she slips
and lands on her ass. She was doing so much better.
“Seriously, Killian. The last thing I need is a trip to the ER.” Aimee
wrinkles her brow and looks at me with wide eyes, full of worry.
“How about some hot cocoa?” I ask, leading her off the ice.
“Yes. That sounds much better.”
We sit on a bench beside the rink watching the other guests
circle the ice. Some fall. Some skate like old pros. But I notice that
all of them make Aimee smile.
“Admit it. You’re having fun,” I say.
“With you? Always.” A soft blush fills her already pink cheeks,
kissed by the cold.
And now all I can’t think about is how much I would love to
make those soft cheeks of hers red with my kisses.
“Killian?” Aimee whispers as my lips draw closer to hers.
“I won’t lie, Aimz. I want to kiss the hell out of you right now.”
It’s a good thing I’m wearing so many layers. Without them, she and
all my guests would see I want more than a kiss.
“Then why don’t you?”
My lips have only grazed hers when she jumps at the sound of
her phone ringing.
“Sorry,” she says taking the phone out of her coat pocket to
answer it.
“Hi, Mom,” Aimee says.
Her mom’s voice is muffled and hard to hear over the wind and
the crowd enjoying their time on the ice. I’m supposed to sit still and
quiet while she talks to her mom but just that soft brush of her lips
was enough to drive me crazy. Crave so much more of her. I sweep
her hair away from her neck and place light kisses on her soft skin.
Aimee’s face contorts as she presses her lips together, trying not
to react to me while listening to her mom.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to check the road conditions,” she says,
and that makes me pause. Aimee pouts when I lean back.
Is she trying to get out of Christmas Eve dinner? That’s not good.
I understand she’s worried about having to face her parents but she
shouldn’t miss out on Christmas with them because of it.
Wondering if she’d feel better not having to face them alone, I
whisper, “Ask if you can bring a guest.”
“Um… Hold on a sec, Mom.” Aimee mutes her phone. “What?”
“Ask your mom if it’s okay if I come.”
“You want to spend Christmas Eve with us?”
“My parents are on a boat in the tropics. So, my brothers didn’t
bother coming home. I’d love to spend Christmas with you and your
parents.” I want to tell her I’m ready to spend all of our Christmas’s
together but we’re not there yet. One thing at a time. I won’t force
her to shoulder more than one big life event right now.
“It might not be entirely cheerful,” she says.
“Maybe it won’t be so bad. If it is? Well… We’ll figure it out.”
Aimee smiles weakly but nods before unmuting her phone.
“Mom? Set an extra place at the table. I’m bringing a date.”
This time, I hear her Mom. She cheers so loudly Aimee has to
pull the phone away from her ear.
“A date, huh?” I ask, with a smirk, after Aimee ends the call.
“Yes. A date,” Aimee says then pulls me in by the front of my
coat to finish the kiss we started before her phone rang.
Her lips are hot and sugary sweet, still coated with the Christmas
cookie I gave her before we left the cottage.
Even though she started the kiss, she starts to pull away almost
immediately.
I’m not having any of it.
Quick as a wink, I wrap an arm around her back, holding her
plush waist in one hand and gripping the back of her neck with my
other hand, tangling my fingers in her long wavy locks. Our tongues
meet when she parts her lips and despite the cold, she melts into
me.
“We should get ready to go,” I say stopping the kiss before I
can’t. Before I drag her back to my cottage and keep her in bed all
night instead of taking her to her parent’s house for dinner.
“Do we have to?” Aimee asks and I wonder if maybe that’s her
plan.
“You’re not getting out of this. They need to hear the truth. From
you.”
Aimee huffs. “Fine.”
“Good girl. Now let's go have that cup of cocoa. Then you can
take that first step on your way forward.”
“With you by my side?” she asks but she doesn’t need to
question it.
“There’s no place I’d rather be.”
CHAPTER 4

A imee
“Maybe this isn’t such a great idea,” I say when Killian parks his
Jeep outside my parents’ house. “The roads weren’t great. We could
say we couldn’t make it tonight. Come by tomorrow.”
“All that will do is give you more time to come up with a new way
to avoid them. Let’s go in there. Rip the Band-Aid off, then you can
all move on.”
He’s right, but that doesn’t make the task any easier. To be fair, I
don’t think anything will make this easy. Even if I wait until my dad
finds out some other way, there will still be blowback for not telling
him myself.
“Alright, then. Let’s get this over with,” I say and climb out of the
vehicle. Snow crunches under my feet so loudly that I wince hoping
it won’t alert my parents to our arrival.
“Remember, whatever happens, I’m here for you, Aimz. I’ve got
you.” Killian cups my face in his gloved hand before leaning down
and kissing me so sweetly standing on the porch in the twinkling
Christmas lights wrapped around the supports and the wreath on the
door.
It just feels right. Familiar and fresh all at once. I can’t help
falling into it. So deeply I forget where I am and why I’m here until
my mom’s voice shrieks beside us, “I knew it. And it’s about time
too. I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to fake a
medical emergency or something to get you two in the same place
at the same time again.”
“All it took was a snowstorm and a little bit of Christmas magic,”
Killian says, embracing my mom.
And a lot of fear. Don’t forget about the fear.
“Come in. Come in. Dinner is on the table,” my mom says,
ushering us in. We kick off our shoes and hang our coats, then she
leads us into the dining room and announces, “Donald, look who’s
here.”
My dad is already sitting at the candlelit dinner table set with an
extremely elaborate meal for only four people. It’s the usual spread;
turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and pies.
So many pies. Pumpkin, apple, cherry, and pecan. As good as it all
looks with the pine garland weaving through the dishes running from
one end of the table to the other, my sights and stomach are set on
the large punch bowl full of my mom’s world-class eggnog.
Don’t mind if I do.
Trying not to look too obvious, I take slow but deliberate steps
toward the eggnog end of the table. It doesn’t prove to be too
difficult though. My parents are too busy gushing over Killian’s
presence and that my mom caught us kissing to pay any attention to
me.
They always loved Killian. It broke their hearts when I told them
we broke up. But they understood our reasons. I always guessed my
mom hoped we’d get back together someday but I didn’t think she’d
been thinking about it so much she was devising some devious plan
to make it happen.
While my dad drills Killian for all the details on how business at
the lodge is going and my mom raptly listens to every answer, I
savor every sip of from the mug with holly and ivy etched into the
glass.
On the upside, comforted by the familiar flavor like a hug from
the past, the night doesn’t seem so scary anymore.
“Well, we should probably start eating before everything gets
cold,” Mom says and when she takes her seat next to Dad, Killian
pulls out a chair for me across the table from them and then sits
beside me.
“How many cups of eggnog did you get down while I wasn’t
looking?” Killian whispers with a smile.
I’m not sure whether or not I whisper back, “Not nearly enough.”
Under the table, Killian squeezes my thigh in a reassuring way as
my dad carves and serves slices of turkey.
We’re not two bites into the meal before my dad turns to me and
asks, “So, Aimee. How’s work?”
Even though I knew the question was coming, I’d hoped it
wouldn’t be so soon. Panic thumps in my chest and settles as a hard
lump in my stomach.
“Um… Mom, did you do something different to the stuffing this
year? It’s positively divine.” My diversion won’t last but I try anyway.
Killian gives my thigh another squeeze and leans over to say in
my ear, “It’s gonna be okay. I’m right here.”
Before Mom can answer me, Dad continues, “How’s the new
office? Garrett told me they were planning to do some remodeling in
the fall.”
“I don’t know,” I say because the remodeling wasn’t quite
finished when HR called me into their offices two weeks ago to give
me the news.
Dad chuckles uneasily, taken off guard by my answer. “How do
you not know? They should have been done by now. Did they stick
you in one of the old offices? I could give Garrett a call—”
“No,” I practically shout. It startles my mom enough to make her
drop her fork. “Don’t call Garrett.”
“It’s no problem. Why don’t—”
“Because I don’t work there anymore,” I blurt out then promptly
bite my lips together.
The room falls into a dead silence. My dad sits back in his chair
with his hands folded over his stomach. “Explain, please.”
Killian takes my hand and holds it in his lap. I’m surprised at the
calm that comes over me as he caresses the back of my palm and
fingers. With him by my side, I find my courage and finally admit to
my dad, “They fired me.”
“They did what? I swear…” Dad moves to stand mumbling about
not caring that it’s Christmas Eve, he’s going to fix this.
“Dad, no. It wasn’t a wrongful termination or anything. Even if it
was, I don’t want the job back.”
He pauses with his hands planted flat on the table. “Aimee. This
isn’t an opportunity you give up on. One call—”
“Please, Dad.” I gesture asking him to sit back down.
Reluctantly, he does but with a concerned and confused wrinkle
set deeply on his brow.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I appreciate the trouble you went to to get me
the job. Really, I do. It just wasn’t a good fit.”
He harrumphs. “It was a perfect fit. Your qualifications checked
every box.”
“Except one.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I didn’t want it.”
Wow. I’ve thought about telling him that so many times but I
never thought I’d do it.
This time, I squeeze Killian’s hand. I couldn’t have done it
without his encouragement and support. Not without him by my
side.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Dad asks, his voice soft and far
more understanding than I expected.
It seems, yet again, Killian was right.
“You went to so much trouble setting up the interview. I didn’t
want to disappoint you. It was easier for me to be a little bit
miserable in a good-paying job than it was to let you down.”
“Aimee, sweetheart,” my mom says barely above a whisper with
her hand over her heart.
“All I and your mother want is for you to be happy.”
“But I was happy. I told you I was happy where I was. You didn’t
believe me.” Heat gathers on the back of my neck. I don’t want to
fight. What can I do if he won’t listen? How can I make him
understand?
“Floating from paycheck to paycheck? Living, shoulder to
shoulder, with two other people in a one-bedroom apartment? Barely
able to pay your bills on three part-time salaries? How could anyone
be happy living like that?” my dad asks like my lifestyle was a
nightmare.
“Yeah, we struggled but we had something far more valuable
than a big paycheck. Time. I had time to do what I wanted without
being too exhausted or stressed out after working ten or more hours
a day. Even on the weekends. Sure, the corporate money was good
but I wasn’t.”
“You said you had time to do what you wanted to do,” Mom says
when Dad remains stoic, still taking everything in. “What do you
want to do?”
“To be honest, I’m still not sure.” The inside of my cheek stings
as I chew too hard on it.
I stop and almost crack a smile when Killian wraps his arm
around my shoulder.
“You’re almost thirty,” my dad grumbles.
“I know.”
“If you don’t know what you want to do, what are you going to
do until you figure it out?” Mom asks.
“I don’t know. I can tell you, whatever I do, I know I want to live
in a small town. I miss the warmth and the community. The city was
so cold. Everyone distant and in their own heads. I hated it there.”
I’m on the edge of breaking down. Tears are coming, it’s just a
question of when they’ll finally spill over.
Before the first tear falls, Killian clears his throat. We all turn to
him. “You could always work at the lodge. The hours can be as
flexible as you need them to be. Plus, I can put in a good word for
you with the boss.” Killian’s smile threatens to melt me on the spot.
“I hear he’s a pretty nice guy.”
“Not a bad ice skater either,” I tease.
“An expert kisser,” he says against my cheek before pecking a
kiss on it.
“This is really what you want?” Dad asks, his words stern but
with a hint of a smile.
“I can’t tell you exactly what I want but I can tell you what I
don’t want. A corporate job in the city is not for me.”
“That’s enough of this serious talk. Besides, if this means we get
our little girl back in town, I’m all for it,” Mom says when Dad
doesn’t protest further.
“That I can agree with,” Dad says.
“Here, here,” Killian adds raising his mug of eggnog.
CHAPTER 5

K illian
After the heavy discussion at dinner, and a few mugs of eggnog
all around, the rest of the night goes off without a hitch. We
reminisce and catch up properly. By the end of the night, as Aimee
and I prepare to say goodbye and head back up the mountain, it’s
as though we’ve never missed spending a Christmas together.
“We’ll see you tomorrow. Both of you,” Judy insists hugging her
daughter, then me before sending us on our way.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Not this Christmas or any Christmas from now
on as far as I’m concerned.
“Thank you, Killian,” Aimee says with a sigh of relief when we’re
safe in the silence of the Jeep. “For everything. Don’t worry, I won’t
burden you too long at the lodge. I can pay for a room until a job in
town pops up.”
“Aimz. I was serious about you working at the lodge. There’s an
opening for an events coordinator if you’re interested. Or we can
find you something else.”
“An events coordinator?” She eyes me suspiciously. “Did you just
make that up?”
“A lot of inns and lodges put itineraries together for their guests.
I’ve never done it but I’ve had plenty of guests ask. One less thing
they have to worry about so they don’t wind up spending their
whole stay in their rooms. Think about it. You could still make good
use of your degree and experience as a project manager but in a
place you’d rather be. And if it turns out you don’t care for the job,
we can find you something else.”
Her eyes soften as they fill with tears. “Maybe you could start
doing little seasonal festivals or something. Oh, yes. I have so many
ideas. Events coordinator sounds perfect. Thank you.” Aimee throws
herself across the center console to throw her arms around my
shoulders.
Without a second thought about where we are or who might see
us, I pull her sideways into my lap. Squeezed between the steering
wheel and me, I get a good feel for all of her luscious curves. Her
upper body turned toward me, her breasts press against my chest
and her thick hip rubs deliciously on my hardening cock.
She looks at me through her lashes biting her bottom lip leaving
no question she feels it. She likes it.
“Take me home, Killian,” Aimee says moving her ass on my lap,
letting my length grind into her.
I cup her face in both of my hands, threading my fingers into her
hair as it falls as thick curtains around us when our mouths meet,
hot and desperate.
“I wasn’t just trying to get out of coming to my parents earlier. At
the ice rink. I wanted you then, as much as I want you now.” Her
words stoke the fire that was already blazing inside of me.
“Fuck. I’ve never stopped wanting you. The second you walked
into my lodge, you were mine because you always have been.”
“I’ve missed you, Killian.” She holds me tightly peppering kisses
on my cheek and neck.
My hand finds the hem of her ugly Christmas sweater, the one
with actual twinkling lights tangled in Rudolph’s antlers, and slips
underneath. My palm and fingers relish the softness of her skin and
the grip I get on her supple waist.
Aimee moans and buries her face in the crook of my neck when I
slide my hand up her ribs and under her bra to take as much of her
breast into my hand as I can and flick my thumb over the pebble-
hard peak.
“You do that much longer, I’m not sure I can wait until we get
back to your place,” she says, low and husky in my ear.
If this wasn’t our first time in so long, I’d test her on that. Drive
her mad teasing her nipples and wherever else I can get my hands
on her, then take her right here.
“Next time,” I tell her sliding her off my lap and kicking the Jeep
into gear.
It’s a long drive up the mountain. Aimee doesn’t let the mood
die, flipping open the fly of my jeans, and thrusting her hand into
my boxer briefs to stroke me. When I get too close to coming, I hold
her wrist to stop her but she fights against my grip. I settle for
slowing the pace until I pull the Jeep to a stop outside my cottage.
I open my door. When Aimee turns to get out the passenger side,
I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her out my side, scooping
her up to cradle her in my arms.
She locks her hands behind my neck.
“I’m too heavy. You’re going to slip and fall.” She winces holding
herself tightly against me as I wade through the snow to the house
without issue.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’ve got you.”
CHAPTER 6

A imee
Killian Tucker has all of me. My mind, my body, and my heart.
Just inside the door, we rip off our coats and kick off our shoes.
Killian takes my hand and I follow him around the kitchen island to
the short hallway to his bedroom.
Next to his bed, he keeps his eyes locked on mine until my head
disappears as he pulls my sweater over my head. That’s when I
realize I wore the least sexy thing I own. I guess if the man still
finds me desirable in this stupid sweater, he has to be the one.
After tossing the sweater aside, Killian flattens his hand on my
chest, over my heart then drags it down pressing his fingers into my
cleavage.
“Quite a bit more of those than there used to be, huh?” I say,
giggling.
“They’re fucking gorgeous.” Killian’s mouth replaces his hand, his
tongue dipping between my breasts as his hand flicks open the latch
on my bra. The rough scrubbing of his beard on my skin only
heightens the sensation when the lacy fabric falls away and he
moves to lap and suck a mouthful of my left breast while his hand
massages the right.
My breath shudders in my chest. “Hot damn, you’re good at
that.”
“If you like that…” he says pushing my leggings and panties
down to my ankles. I steady myself on his broad, muscular
shoulders to step out of my last shreds of clothing. I imagine he
earned those muscles from chopping a lot of wood for the cast iron
stove in the corner of his living room.
On his way to stand before me again, Killian plants kiss after kiss
up my leg. On his knees, his whole face sinks into my belly with one
long, wet, open-mouthed kiss.
On his feet and leaning over me, he kisses each breast before
following my cleavage up to my neck to kiss me hard and fully on
the mouth. It’s the deepest, hottest kiss we’ve shared, so far. One of
those never-ending kisses. The kind you lose yourself in. Where time
and reality disappear.
“How do you want it, baby? Slow and easy or fast and hard?”
Killian asks shedding his flannel.
I slide my hands under his tight, white T-shirt. My fingers trip
over the hard ridges of his abs before setting on the broad planes of
his pecs dusted with hair. He’s too tall for me to lift the shirt any
further, so he bends to let me pull it off of him. When he stands at
his full height again, I’m so distracted by his masculine beauty, I
forget that he asked me a question.
Then he prompts me, “I need your answer, baby,” and I
remember.
“Both,” I say bringing a lusty smirk to his lips.
“I can do that.” He guides me until the back of my knees hit the
bed forcing me to sit.
With his lips on mine, Killian lays me back before sinking to his
knees beside the bed nestling himself between my legs. His beard
tickles the inside of my thigh with every kiss he places on my skin.
“Fuck, you feel nice. All I want to do is squeeze and bite and feel
every inch of your thick body in my hands and mouth.” He licks and
bites the sensitive flesh of my thigh beside my mound and sucks on
the skin while his tongue dances around the taut surface he’s drawn
into his mouth.
I can’t breathe, let alone speak. All that comes out is a strangled
squeak when he finally lets go with a pop. Where his mouth was is a
dark bruise that mirrors the rose tattoo on my other thigh.
“You’ve always been mine, but now it’s official.” He smooths his
thumb over the swollen mark before leaning down and giving it a
soothing kiss. “You’re mine. Say it, baby.”
My pussy clenches when he moves and his breath heats my skin
as he hovers his mouth over my center.
My body quivers anticipating the moment he tastes me, I
practically shout at him, “I’m yours, Killian. I’m all yours.”
The words have barely left my lips before his tongue swipes
through my slit and excites my clit. He licks me with long lavish
strokes of his wide flattened tongue until I’m insane with lust.
“Fuck, I’m close,” I yelp as my hand finds the back of his head. I
hold him against me—not that I have to, he’s not fighting my grip in
the slightest—writhing and bucking my hips.
Killian just hums his satisfaction working me over until the tight
ball of energy in my core sparks and explodes.
“You taste so fucking sweet, baby.” Killian licks me again as my
body quakes in the aftershock of my orgasm. “Sugar cookies and
Irish cream.”
He hums lapping at my wet pussy. My body is limp and sated
except when he finds my clit and it sends a jolt up my spine. But I
could go again. I relax into every circle of his tongue.
“Please, Aimz, baby, I want to live the rest of my life getting
drunk on the taste of you.” He devours me again, hooking his arms
under my legs to grip my hips. I don’t want to get away from him
but I couldn’t if I tried. Once again, I ride his face until my body
bursts with another earth-shattering orgasm.
I’m still recovering, when Killian kisses the peak of my sex one
last time before standing.
My God, he is glorious. The mountain truly has been good to
him.
As much as I like the hard lines and bulging muscles of his upper
body, there’s another bulge I want to get a better look at below the
waist.
His jeans are still open from the ride up the mountain. All I have
to do when I sit up and take the waist of them and his boxer briefs
in my hands is pull and his hard, heavy length bounces free.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I wrap my hand around his shaft
and take the broad tip of his cock between my lips. He tastes good
too. Dark and earthy. As manly as he smells, like smoke and fresh
snow.
“Fuck, you’re good at that.” Killian moans and palms the back of
my head. I let him guide me further down his length until he hits the
back of my throat. “Not like this,” he says, then growls pulling me off
his cock and pushing me back on the bed again. “Do we need to
have the contraception talk?”
“I’m good if you are,” I say, knowing I have all of my bases
covered so it’s okay if he doesn’t.
“Thank fuck because I want to feel you. All of you.”
Killian nudges my legs further apart to make room for himself
between them. Gripping his length, he swipes his tip through my lips
before slipping into me one thick inch at a time. Buried until our hips
meet, Killian covers me with his big, burly body as he rolls his hips
slipping in and out of me at a deliciously slow pace that lets me feel
every bit of him. His lips brush my shoulder and he whispers my
name on my skin.
Again and again, before confessing, “I’ve missed you so fucking
much. I never should have let you go. It should have been us. This
should have been us. Always.”
“Yes. God, yes. We’re meant for each other. Aren’t we?”
“Damn right, we are,” he says and pushes himself up to thrust a
little harder. A little deeper.
Just when I think he can’t go any deeper, he hooks the back of
my knee into the crook of his arm spreading me wider and plunging
so deep I whimper at the pleasure.
“Oh, yes. Killian, yes. Please.”
“Is this when I go fast and hard?”
“Yes. Please,” I say more desperately, and he just flashes that
ornery smirk of his before torturing me with even slower thrusts
than before. To make things worse—better. Oh, God so much better
—he licks the thumb of his free hand and rubs my clit with it.
“If I go fast now, I’m going to come too soon. No way I’m
coming before I feel that tight pussy of yours strangle my cock.”
“Oh, yes,” I scream and arch my back.
He may want to keep it slow but I can’t stop my hips from rolling
faster and faster with every circle of his thumb.
“That’s a good girl. Own that cock.”
His dirty words are the end of me. When I fall over the edge and
lose my rhythm, Killian takes over. He rides out my orgasm, riding
me hard and fast until I’m a dizzy, sated mess beneath him when he
fills me up then falls beside me on the bed.
Panting and slick with sweat, I curl into Killian’s side. He wraps
his arms around me holding me so tightly, I’m not sure he ever plans
on letting me go.
Wanting to send the message right back, I throw a leg over him
and say, “Don’t worry, Killian. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours,
remember?”
In true mountain man form, Killian kisses the top of my head and
simply growls, “Mine.”
CHAPTER 7

K illian
Between the stress, the eggnog, and the acrobatic sex, it wasn’t
long, after we got cleaned up, before Aimee had again wrapped her
naked body around me like a koala in a tree. And I drifted to sleep
with the rhythmic beat of her heart against my ribs and her sweet
breath on my neck as she gently snored. We wake up Christmas
morning having barely moved.
“We should get ready to go,” I whisper against her crown when
she begins to stir.
“Do we have to?” She nuzzles her cold nose and lips on my chest
kissing me slowly and purposefully.
My dick is hard already, how could it not be with a goddess in my
bed? The kisses spur my dick on, twitching with each kiss she places
lower and lower on my stomach.
It pains me to stop her but we made a promise. And it’s
Christmas.
“As much as I want your mouth on my cock, there isn’t time.”
Aimee whines and juts out her bottom lip in an over-exaggerated
pout. “Fine,” she says and climbs out of bed. “But I got dibs on the
first shower.” When I start to follow her out of the bedroom, she
looks back. “You do know what dibs means, right?”
“Oh, sorry. I thought you wanted some of this,” I tease her
gesturing to all of me in a playfully arrogant way that makes her
giggle.
“You said there wasn’t time,” she throws back in an equally
playful tone shaking her voluminous ass as she saunters away.
“I never said there wasn’t time for a quickie in the shower,” I say
catching up to her.
“You’re such a brat, Killian.” Aimee squeals when I smack her ass
and chase her across the hall into the bathroom.
It’s at that moment, seeing her so happy after seeing her so sad
when she first arrived, that I can’t wait another day to officially
make Aimee Burris mine.
CHAPTER 8

A imee
Our quickie took a little too long, when we finished getting ready
my phone was awash with text messages and missed calls from my
mom wondering where we were. I text her back with an apology
and to let her know that we’re on our way.
It’s a typical Christmas morning. Full of music, gift exchanges—
Mom even had one for Killian. The paper is a little worn and the
ribbon crumpled, which made me wonder how long she’d been
expecting him to spend a Christmas with us again—and so many
cinnamon rolls the sugar high I get makes the time fly by. Before I
know it, it’s late afternoon and, though I’m still technically jobless
and homeless, I’m not without love and that makes me the happiest
I’ve been in years.
“Thank you,” I tell Killian after my mom trotted off to the kitchen
to cook something even though there’s a slew of leftovers from last
night and my dad disappeared to his study for a nap, I’m sure, even
though he said he had work to do.
“For what?”
We had been snuggling on the couch. watching the Christmas
tree spin in the corner, but I sit up so I can look him in the eyes.
Leave no room for him to wonder if I mean it when I answer,
“Everything.” I sigh leaning into Killian’s hand as he palms my
cheek and threads his fingers into my hair. “For being you. I always
could count on you to cheer me up whenever I made a mess of
things. Oh, Killian, I really made a mess of things when I broke up
with you.”
There. I finally said it. It hurts but it’s also a relief.
“That’s not on you. I could’ve fought you on it. I should have.
These last ten years are all on me.” His eyes searching mine, Killian
pets my cheekbone with his thumb and it’s obvious he wants to say
something else but he doesn’t. Instead, he lunges, crushing his lips
to mine.
Finally, when he breaks away, he says, “I haven’t said it yet.
Fuck, how have I not said it yet? I love you, Aimee. I never stopped
loving you. You’re my everything. After everything we’ve done this
weekend, I know my life is incomplete without you in it.”
My eyes begin to well with tears and it’s hard to swallow listening
to his confession because… “I feel the same way, Killian. I love you
too. So very much. I hate that we’ve wasted so much time we could
have been together. I love you.”
Killian smiles, holding my face in both of his big, callused hands
now, our foreheads pressed together. “I’ve lived with the regret of
letting you go for far too long. So long, I worried when we saw each
other again, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I
meant it, Aimz. You’re mine. I won’t let you go again. Hell, I’ll hunt
you down if ever try to get away from me.”
A tear streaks my cheek and he swipes it away with his thumb.
“You won’t have to,” I tell him. “I meant what I said too. I’m not
going anywhere.”
“Good.” Killian’s breath shudders as he sighs deeply like he’s
nervous. It’s clear why as soon as he drops to one knee in front of
me. With a length of ribbon I watched him fiddle with for over an
hour and I see now he’s fashioned it into a ring, he asks, “Amy
Renee Burris, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I say immediately as I throw myself at him with such force
he falls back and we both tumble to the floor.
“You sure you don’t want to think about it?” he jokes, poking my
ribs, making me squirm. I’d hoped he’d forgotten all my ticklish
spots but I’m kind of glad that he hasn’t.
“No isn’t an option. There’s no way I’m not letting you get away
from me either.”
Holding a fistful of my hair behind my head, Killian pulls my
mouth down on his. Our breath and tongues tangle. He must forget
that we’re in my parents’ living room because he rolls us over,
putting me on my back and holding me down with my wrists pinned
beside my head.
“It’s getting awful late,” he says with a crooked smile because we
both know it’s not. We haven’t even had dinner yet. “About time we
head home.”
“Shouldn’t we tell my parents the news?”
“It can wait until you have a proper ring.”
“I like this one,” I pout wiggling the fingers of my left hand. The
ribbon slides around my ring finger. “Anyway, aren’t you the one who
told me not to tell them things before they find out from someone
else?”
“Alright then. We’ll stay for dinner and give them the news but as
soon as you finish your dessert, I’m taking you home to have mine.”
He pumps his eyebrows and licks his lips suggestively.
I gladly agree holding my hand up for him to shake it and say,
“Deal.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
6 servings
2 cans (3¾ or 4 ounces each) Maine sardines
8 slices white bread
1½ tablespoons butter or margarine
¼ cup chopped green pepper
¾ cup shredded sharp natural Cheddar cheese
3 eggs
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon dry mustard
Pepper, as desired
2 cups milk
Paprika
Drain sardines and cut into thirds.
Remove crusts from bread, spread with butter or margarine, and
cut bread into ½-inch cubes. Place half the bread cubes in a well-
greased 12- by 8- by 2-inch baking dish. Cover with sardines, green
pepper, and half the cheese. Top with remaining bread cubes and
cheese.
Beat eggs, salt, mustard, and pepper. Add milk and mix well. Pour
over bread and sprinkle with paprika.
Bake at 350° F. (moderate oven) 45 to 50 minutes, or until firm in
the center. Remove from oven and let stand 5 minutes before
serving.
Menu suggestion
Serve with green peas, a relish plate, and orange bavarian cream.

Eggs, cheese, dry beans


Main dishes made with eggs, cheese, or dry beans are
economical choices for family meals.

Cooking eggs
For best eating quality, eggs should be cooked with low to
moderate heat, for just the right amount of time. If cooking
temperature is too high or the egg is cooked too long, the white
becomes tough and the yolk mealy.

Caution on Use of Cracked or Soiled Eggs


Cracked or soiled eggs may contain bacteria that can produce
food poisoning. For your protection, use cracked or soiled eggs only
when they are thoroughly cooked or when the foods in which they
are an ingredient are thoroughly cooked.
In this publication, a warning note is given with each recipe in
which cracked or soiled eggs should not be used.

Scrambled eggs
Break eggs into a bowl. Add milk as follows: For creamy
scrambled eggs, add 1 tablespoon milk for each ego; for dry
scrambled eggs, add ½ tablespoon milk for each egg. For a product
with uniform yellow color, beat mixture enough to blend yolks and
whites thoroughly. If you prefer scrambled eggs with flecks of yellow
and white, beat only slightly. Season with salt and pepper.
Pour the mixture into a heated frypan in which a little fat has been
melted. Cook slowly, stirring occasionally to let the uncooked portion
flow to the bottom. Cook until the mixture is set, but still moist.
Or, if preferred, use a double boiler. Melt a little fat in the top part,
pour in the egg mixture, place over simmering water in the bottom of
the boiler, and cook as above.
Note: Use only clean, sound-shelled eggs in this recipe.
Variation
Before cooking the mixture, add herbs, chopped onion, shredded
cheese, or small pieces of cooked bacon or ham.
Eggs cooked in shell
Put eggs in a pan; cover them completely with cold water.
For soft-cooked eggs, heat water slowly to simmering. Cover pan
and remove from heat. Let stand 3 to 5 minutes; allow the longer
time for a larger number of eggs or for a firmer consistency.
Note: Use only clean, sound-shelled eggs in this recipe.
For hard-cooked eggs, bring water to simmering and simmer 20 to
25 minutes. Do not let the water boil. Serve the eggs hot or plunge
them at once into cold running water and leave until cold.
Note: The green discoloration that sometimes appears between
the white and the yolk of a hard-cooked egg results from a chemical
reaction, which is harmless. To help prevent this discoloration, cook
eggs at low temperature, avoid overcooking, and cool promptly.

Fried eggs
Heat a small amount of fat in a frypan. Bacon or ham drippings
may be used for flavor. Break eggs, one at a time, into a saucer, and
slip them into the fat. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Cook over low
heat, basting with the fat, until whites are firm.
Or, if you prefer eggs with less fat, use this “fry-poach” method.
Melt a little fat in a frypan over low heat—just enough to grease the
bottom. Add eggs one at a time, pour in 2 or 3 tablespoons of water,
cover pan tightly, and steam until eggs are done. Season before
serving.
Note: Use only clean, sound-shelled eggs in this recipe.

French toast
6 servings
4 eggs, beaten
⅔ cup milk
¼ teaspoon salt
12 slices white bread
2 tablespoons fat or oil
Combine eggs, milk, and salt. Dip each side of bread in egg
mixture.
Brown on both sides in fat on a hot griddle—3 to 4 minutes on
each side. Serve immediately.
Note: Use only clean, sound-shelled eggs in this recipe.
Variation
Add ½ teaspoon cinnamon or nutmeg to egg mixture before
dipping bread.

Plain or french omelet


6 servings
6 eggs
¾ teaspoon salt
Pepper, as desired
6 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons butter or margarine
Beat eggs until yolks and whites are well mixed.
Add salt, pepper, and milk.
Melt the fat in a large frypan and pour in the egg mixture.
Cook over moderate heat. As the omelet cooks, lift edges toward
center and tip pan so that the uncooked mixture flows under the
cooked portion. Continue cooking until bottom is light brown.
Fold one half of the omelet over the other half and serve at once.
Note: Use only clean, sound-shelled eggs in this recipe.
Variations
Spread tart jelly or browned mushrooms on half the omelet just
before folding.
Sprinkle top of the omelet with shredded cheese, your favorite
herbs, or bits of crisp bacon or ham.

Poached eggs
Break eggs into a saucer or custard cup, one at a time, then slip
them into gently boiling, salted water—enough water to cover the
eggs in a shallow pan.
Reheat water to simmering, take pan from heat, cover. Let stand 5
minutes, or until eggs are of desired firmness. Remove eggs from
water and sprinkle with salt and pepper.
Note: Use only clean, sound-shelled eggs in this recipe.

Poached eggs supreme


6 servings
1 can (10½ ounces) condensed Cheddar cheese soup
2 tablespoons chopped green pepper
¼ cup process sharp Cheddar cheese spread
6 slices toast
6 eggs
Combine soup and green pepper; heat. Spread cheese on toast.
Poach eggs until firm (p. 38). Place eggs on toast and cover with hot
soup mixture. Serve immediately.
Note: Use only clean, sound-shelled eggs in this recipe.
Menu suggestion
Serve with green beans, fruit salad, and oatmeal cookies.

Deviled eggs
6 servings
6 eggs
¼ cup mayonnaise
1 teaspoon prepared mustard
½ teaspoon vinegar
¼ teaspoon salt
White pepper, as desired
Paprika
Hard-cook eggs as directed on page 37. Cool eggs under cold
running water 5 to 10 minutes. Peel shells from eggs. Cut eggs in
half lengthwise. Mash yolks with remaining ingredients except
paprika until mixture is smooth. Fill whites with this mixture; sprinkle
with paprika.
Variation
Ham-deviled eggs.—Omit salt. Add 1 can (2¼ ounces) deviled
ham to yolk mixture.

Baked eggs in hash nests


6 servings
1 can (1 pound, 8 ounces) corned beef hash
6 eggs
2 tablespoons fine dry breadcrumbs, if desired
Salt and pepper, as desired
1 tablespoon butter or margarine
Spread hash evenly in a 10½- by 7- by 2-inch baking pan. Form
six depressions by pressing the bottom of a ½-cup measure into the
hash.
Break an egg into each depression. Sprinkle each egg with
breadcrumbs, if desired. Sprinkle with salt and pepper; dot with fat.
Bake at 325° F. (slow oven) 20 to 25 minutes, or until eggs are as
firm as desired.
Note: Use only clean, sound-shelled eggs in this recipe.
Menu suggestion
Serve with mixed vegetables, lettuce wedges, and brownies.

Cooking cheese
Cheese, like eggs, should be cooked at low temperatures and
never overcooked.
Melt cheese over simmering water, or add it to a hot mixture. Add
cheese to a sauce after the sauce is cooked and heat only long
enough to melt the cheese. Add cheese to an omelet just before
folding.
Bake casseroles containing cheese at low to moderate
temperatures. To keep cheese toppings from toughening or
hardening, cover the cheese with crumbs or add cheese just a few
minutes before the casserole comes out of the oven.
Cheese blends more readily with other ingredients and melts more
quickly if you shred or dice it first.

Spanish rice with cheese


6 servings
3 slices bacon
1 small onion, finely chopped
¼ cup chopped green pepper
¼ cup chopped celery
1 cup water
½ teaspoon salt
¾ cup packaged precooked rice
2 cups cooked or canned tomatoes
1 teaspoon sugar
¼ teaspoon worcestershire sauce
1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese
Fry bacon in a heavy 2-quart saucepan. Drain bacon on paper. In
1 tablespoon bacon drippings, lightly brown onion, green pepper,
and celery.
Add water and salt; bring to a boil. Stir in rice, tomatoes, sugar,
and worcestershire sauce. Simmer until rice is just tender, stirring
occasionally.
Crumble bacon and stir into rice mixture. Sprinkle cheese over top.
Cover and continue cooking over very low heat until cheese is
melted, about 5 minutes.
Menu suggestion
Serve with kale, fruit salad, and ice cream.

Pizza
2 pizzas, 14 inches in diameter
1 yeast roll recipe (p. 59)
4 cups shredded cheese (Mozzarella, Muenster, Colby, or process
Swiss or Cheddar)
2 cans (8 ounces each) Spanish-style tomato sauce
½ teaspoon oregano
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
Preheat oven with oven regulator set at broil; leave oven door
closed.
Prepare roll dough as directed in recipe, but do not allow to rise.
Divide dough into two equal portions; form each into a ball. On a
floured surface, roll out each ball of dough into a 14-inch circle.
Place on lightly greased pizza pans or baking sheets, turning up
edges of dough slightly to form rim.
Sprinkle each pizza with 2 cups shredded cheese. Combine
tomato sauce and oregano; spread half the mixture over each pizza.
Sprinkle half the Parmesan cheese over each pizza.
Place pizzas in preheated oven and turn oven regulator to 525° F.
(extremely hot). Bake 20 to 25 minutes, or until crust is crisp.
Note: Any of toppings below may be added before Parmesan
cheese. Amounts are for 1 pizza:
1 can (8 ounces) sliced mushrooms, drained
¾ pound ground beef, browned and drained
¼ pound pepperoni, thinly sliced
¾ pound fresh pork sausage, browned and drained
Menu suggestion
Serve with mixed vegetable salad and fruit for dessert.

Macaroni with cheese sauce


6 servings
¼ cup butter or margarine
¼ cup flour
½ teaspoon salt
2 cups milk
½ teaspoon mustard
1½ cups cut-up processed Cheddar cheese
3 cups cooked macaroni
Melt fat and mix in flour and salt. Add milk slowly, stirring
constantly, until sauce starts to boil. Lower heat and cook 3 minutes,
or until thick.
Add mustard and cheese. Stir over low heat until cheese softens.
Mix in cooked macaroni and heat through.
Menu suggestion
Serve with broiled tomatoes, asparagus, lettuce, and apple crisp.

Baked cheese fondue


6 servings
12 slices white bread
¾ pound process Cheddar cheese, thinly sliced
3 eggs, beaten
3 cups milk
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
Sage, as desired
1 tablespoon butter or margarine
Grease an 8- by 12- by 2-inch baking dish. Trim crusts from bread.
Lay 6 slices in dish; cover with cheese. Top with remaining bread.
Combine eggs and milk. Add seasonings and pour over bread. Dot
with fat.
Bake at 350° F. (moderate oven) 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until set.
Variation
Place a layer of ¾ cup ground cooked ham on top of cheese
before topping with bread.
Menu suggestion
Serve with peas, coleslaw, and apple pie.

Cooking dry beans


Dry beans need soaking before cooking. Use 2½ cups water for 1
cup of blackeye beans (blackeye peas, cowpeas), Great Northern
beans, and lima beans. Use 3 cups water for 1 cup of kidney beans,
pea (navy) beans, and pinto beans.
To soak them quickly, boil beans 2 minutes, remove from heat,
and let stand 1 hour. Or if you prefer, boil beans 2 minutes and let
them stand overnight.
Cook the beans in the soaking water. Add 1 teaspoon salt for 1
cup of beans; boil gently for the time given below. One cup of
uncooked beans yields about 2½ cups cooked beans.
Kind of beans Approximate cooking time (hours)
Blackeye (blackeye peas, cowpeas). ½
Great Northern 1 to 1½
Kidney 2
Lima 1
Pea (navy) 1½ to 2
Pinto 2

Dry beans will cook more quickly if you add baking soda to the
water before soaking. If tap water is of medium hardness, adding ⅛
teaspoon soda to the water for each cup of dry beans reduces
cooking time about one-fourth. Measure soda exactly; too much
soda affects flavor and nutritive value of beans.
To reduce foaming when cooking dry beans, add 1 tablespoon
meat drippings or other fat to the cooking water for each cup of
beans.
Cooked dry beans may be seasoned and eaten without further
cooking, or they may be baked, or combined with other foods.
If acid ingredients like tomatoes, catsup, or vinegar are included in
the recipe, add them after the beans are tender. Acids prevent
softening of the beans.

Boston baked beans


6 servings
2 cups dry navy beans
6 cups (1½ quarts) water
¼ pound salt pork, cut in chunks or slices
1½ teaspoons salt
¼ cup brown sugar, packed
1 teaspoon dry mustard
2 teaspoons chopped onion
½ cup dark molasses
Boil beans in water 2 minutes. Soak 1 hour, or overnight if
preferred.
Add salt pork and salt to beans and simmer until beans are tender,
about 1½ hours. Drain; save ½ cup liquid. Place beans in a 3-quart
casserole.
Combine bean cooking liquid, brown sugar, mustard, onion, and
molasses. Pour over beans. Bake uncovered at 350° F. (moderate
oven) 1 hour, or until beans are lightly browned on top and of desired
consistency.
Menu suggestion
Serve with frankfurters or cold cuts, coleslaw, and baked apples.
Vegetables
Knowing how to prepare vegetables to retain their nutritive value
and appetite appeal is a test of any good cook. To help you improve
your skill with vegetables, here are some cooking tips—
• Boil vegetables in as little water as possible; losses in vitamins
and minerals will be less, the less water you use. Serve the cooking
liquids with your vegetables, or make them into sauces, gravies, or
soups.
• Cook vegetables until just tender, and serve them immediately;
they will taste better and retain more nutrients.
• Trim leafy vegetables like lettuce and cabbage sparingly. Use the
dark outer leaves—they are especially rich in nutrients. Remove
woody midribs from kale leaves—there is little nutritive loss and the
kale cooks more uniformly.

Fresh vegetables
Preparing for cooking
Wash vegetables thoroughly. Use plenty of water for leafy greens;
wash several times, lifting vegetables from the water.
Remove bruised, wilted, or tough parts; trim sparingly.
Soak fresh brussels sprouts and broccoli in cold salt water (2
teaspoons salt for each quart of water) 30 to 60 minutes to remove
any insects.
Cooking times
In using the Boiling Guide for Fresh Vegetables on the following
page, remember that vegetables may require shorter or longer
cooking time than given, the exact time depending on quality and
variety of vegetable. The altitude at which you live will also affect
cooking times; you can shorten the time by cutting, slicing, dicing, or
coarsely shredding vegetables.

Boiling fresh vegetables


Bring salted water to a boil. One-half to 1 cup water usually is
enough for 6 servings of young, tender vegetables. Older root
vegetables that need longer cooking may require water to cover.
Spinach and other greens need only the water clinging to their
leaves from washing if cooked over low heat in a pan with a tight-
fitting lid. Tomatoes can be cooked in their own juice.
Add vegetable. Cover, and quickly bring water back to a boil.
Reduce heat and cook gently until vegetable is just tender. Start
timing after water returns to boiling.

Frozen and canned vegetables


Frozen.—Cook frozen vegetables according to package directions.
For uniform cooking, thaw leafy vegetables just enough to separate
the leaves before you put them in boiling water. Partly thaw corn on
the cob before cooking it. If necessary, separate pieces of frozen
vegetables with a fork during cooking.
Canned.—Commercially canned vegetables need reheating only.
If liquid is not served with the vegetable, save it for other uses. (See
Ways to Use Leftovers, p. 75.)
Unless you are absolutely sure home-canned vegetables have
been processed correctly, bring them to a rolling boil. Then cover
and boil for at least 10 minutes. Boil spinach and corn 20 minutes. If
food looks spoiled, foams, or has an off-odor during heating, destroy
it.

Serving boiled vegetables


Hot, seasoned.—Any vegetable or a combination of two or more.
Before cooking, add a pinch of an herb, such as marjoram or
thyme. Or after cooking, season with butter, margarine, or drippings
—or with salad oil and lemon juice, horseradish, or garlic. Or sprinkle
cooked vegetables with herb vinegar or crumbled bacon.
Mashed.—Potatoes, sweetpotatoes, turnips, rutabagas, kohlrabi,
carrots, winter squash.
Drain and mash cooked vegetable. Add hot milk or cream to
moisten if needed. Season with salt, pepper, and butter or
margarine. Beat until fluffy.
Creamed.—Peas, carrots, celery, cabbage, asparagus, broccoli,
potatoes, snap beans, onions, lima beans, cauliflower, spinach.
For 6 servings, combine 3 cups drained cooked vegetable with 1½
cups medium white sauce (p. 57); heat. You may prefer thin white
sauce with potatoes or lima beans.
For quick creamed vegetables, pour 1 can (10½ ounces) undiluted
condensed soup—Cheddar cheese or cream of celery or mushroom
—over 3 cups drained cooked vegetable; heat.

BOILING GUIDE FOR FRESH VEGETABLES


Vegetable Boiling time (minutes)
Asparagus:
Whole 10 to 20
Tips 5 to 15
Beans:
Lima 25 to 30
Snap, 1-inch pieces 12 to 16
Beets:
Young, whole 30 to 45
Older, whole 45 to 90
Sliced or diced 15 to 25
Beet greens, young
5 to 15
Broccoli, heavy stalks, split 10 to 15
Brussels sprouts 15 to 20
Cabbage:
Shredded 3 to 10
Quartered 10 to 15
Carrots:
Young, whole 15 to 20
Older, whole 20 to 30
Sliced or diced 10 to 20
Cauliflower:
Separated 8 to 15
Whole 15 to 25
Celery, cut up 15 to 18
Chard 10 to 20
Collards 10 to 20
Corn, on cob 5 to 15
Kale 10 to 15
Okra 10 to 15
Onions 15 to 30
Parsnips:
Whole 20 to 40
Quartered 8 to 15
Peas 12 to 16
Potatoes:
Whole, medium size 25 to 40
Quartered 20 to 25
Diced 10 to 15
Rutabagas, pared, cut up 20 to 30
Spinach 3 to 10
Squash:
Summer, sliced 8 to 15
Winter, cut up 15 to 20
Sweetpotatoes, whole 35 to 55
Tomatoes, cut up 7 to 15
Turnips:
Cut up 10 to 20
Whole 20 to 30
Turnip greens 10 to 30

Chilled, in salads.—Chill cooked vegetables and marinate them in


sweet french or italian dressing. See recipes on page 53.
With a sauce.—Suggestions for vegetable and sauce
combinations follow. Sauce recipes begin on page 57.
• Asparagus—mock hollandaise sauce, lemon-butter sauce, egg
sauce.
• Green beans—quick mushroom or celery sauce.
• Broccoli—sour cream sauce, lemon-butter sauce, mock
hollandaise sauce.
• Cauliflower—lemon-butter sauce, cheese sauce.
• Peas—onion sauce, quick mushroom or celery sauce.
• Potatoes—sour cream sauce, cheese sauce.
• Spinach—lemon-butter sauce, mock hollandaise sauce, egg
sauce.
• Sweetpotatoes—honey-orange sauce.

Panned vegetables
Panning is a good way to cook cabbage, carrots, or corn.
For 6 servings, use 1½ quarts finely shredded cabbage or 1 quart
cut corn or thinly sliced carrots.
Heat 1½ to 2 tablespoons butter, margarine, meat drippings, or oil
in a heavy pan over moderate heat. Add vegetable and sprinkle with
½ teaspoon salt. Add 3 tablespoons water (6 tablespoons for corn)
and cover pan tightly to hold in steam.
Cook over low heat until vegetable is tender; stir occasionally to
prevent sticking. Cabbage will require 6 to 8 minutes, carrots about
10 minutes, and corn 15 to 18 minutes.
Variation
Add finely chopped onion or onion juice before cooking. Or add
bits of crumbled crisp bacon or diced ham to cooked vegetable.

Spinach souffle
6 servings
1 package (10 ounces) frozen chopped spinach
1 tablespoon finely chopped onion
¼ cup fat or oil
⅓ cup flour
1½ cups milk
1½ teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
4 eggs, separated
½ teaspoon cream of tartar
Cook spinach as directed on package, but omit salt. Drain.
Lightly brown onion in fat in a heavy 1-quart saucepan. Blend in
flour. Slowly stir in milk. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Reduce
heat and cook 1 minute more, stirring constantly. Add salt, pepper,
and spinach.
Beat egg yolks slightly; stir in a little of hot mixture. Then stir egg
yolks into remaining hot mixture and cook 1 minute more. Cool
slightly.
Add cream of tartar to egg whites and beat until stiff but not dry.
Fold in spinach mixture. Pour into a greased 2-quart casserole. Set
casserole in a pan of hot water.
Bake at 350° F. (moderate oven) about 1¼ hours. Souffle is done
when a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

Broiled tomatoes
6 servings
3 large or 6 small ripe tomatoes
Salt and pepper, as desired
2 teaspoons butter or margarine
2 tablespoons fine dry breadcrumbs
Wash tomatoes; cut off stem ends. Cut large tomatoes in 1-inch
slices; cut small tomatoes in half crosswise.
Place cut side up on broiler rack. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
Dot each slice with fat and sprinkle with breadcrumbs.
Broil until tomatoes are soft and crumbs lightly browned, 5 to 7
minutes.

Sweetpotatoes in orange shells


6 servings
3 oranges
1 can (1 pound) sweetpotatoes, undrained
2 tablespoons butter or margarine, melted
3 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
½ teaspoon salt
¼ cup flaked coconut
6 miniature marshmallows
Squeeze oranges; save juice.
Remove membranes from orange shells.
Mash sweetpotatoes. Blend in 3 tablespoons orange juice, fat,
brown sugar, and salt. Stir in coconut.
Spoon sweetpotato mixture into the orange shells. Place in a
shallow baking pan.
Bake at 350° F. (moderate oven) for 20 to 30 minutes, or until
lightly browned on top.
Top with marshmallows and bake about 5 minutes longer to melt
and brown marshmallows.

Hungarian cabbage
6 servings
2 slices bacon
2 quarts coarsely shredded cabbage (about 1 pound)
¾ teaspoon salt
Pepper, as desired
2 tablespoons vinegar
2 tablespoons water
Fry bacon until crisp; remove from pan. Add remaining ingredients
to fat in pan.
Cover tightly and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, for 20
to 25 minutes. Cabbage should be tender but crisp.
Crumble bacon over top before serving.

Stewed okra and tomatoes


6 servings
1 small onion, chopped
2 tablespoons fat or oil
1 package (10 ounces) frozen okra
1 can (1 pound) tomatoes
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon pepper

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