Page 3 of Irresistible

“Think it’ll snow before December?” I ask.

“It sure doesn’t feel like it,” says my mom. “I heard someone say on TV the other day that we’re supposed to get a super snowy Christmas, though.”

“I’d love that,” I say. “Well, as long as it’s not too snowy to shut down the airports.”

“Or the roads,” my mom says. She checks the time. “Speaking of which, Rob and Denise should be here soon. Did I mention that Rob’s friend is joining us, too?”

“Friend?” I ask, concentrating on slicing another potato.

“Austin Hayes,” she says.

I stop cutting.Austin. I haven’t seen him since…well, forever ago. He and my brother have been best friends their whole lives, and when I was growing up, Austin was always over at our house.

I had a serious crush on him back then.

The severity of my crush went away as soon as Austin graduated high school and wasn’t around our house any longer. And even though my brother and him run a business now and I hear Austin’s name being thrown around whenever my brother talks business, it’s been easy enough to tune out my brother’s mentions of him. They’re just words, after all.

But seeing Austin in person again…the very thought of it fills my stomach with butterflies.

“Don’t his parents live up here?” I ask, confused why my brother would invite Austin to our house for the holiday.

“I think Rob said Austin’s folks are out of the country for a few weeks,” my mom says, filling a pot with water.

“Oh,” I say. “Gotcha.”

“Actually, that reminds me,” says my mom. “I still need to wash the sheets for the guest bedroom. I’ll be right back. If the water comes to a boil you can throw those potatoes in, okay?”

I nod. As my mom steps out of the kitchen, I go back to slicing potatoes.Austin. Staying the night in the guest room. For multiple nights, possibly.

This shouldn’t be making me so nervous.

And yet it is.

The thing is…my little childhood crush on him wasn’t just a crush. It was intense. I’d practically feel my knees buckle whenever I was around him. I mean, the crush was pretty innocent, because I was so young. But I also literally remember thinking to myself,Austin and I are going to get married someday. I just know it.

I remind myself that things are different now. I’m twenty-one, no longer a ridiculous little kid. I have control over my feelings. In fact, I might not even feelanythingtoward Austin when I see him again. We’ve surely both changed a lot.

Still, there’s this little pestering thought in the back of my head. Because the way I felt about Austin when I was young? Well, I’ve never felt that way about anybody else since. All the crushes I’ve have had paled in comparison.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the thoughts, and look down at the potatoes I’ve been mindlessly chopping.

I’vewayover-chopped them. They’re in haphazard, tiny pieces on the cutting board.

Mom is still upstairs getting the guest room ready when the water comes to a boil. I dump the potatoes in, grab a timer, and walk over to the bottom of the stairs.

“How long do the potatoes boil for, Mom?” I call up.

“Set a timer for ten minutes,” she calls back. “I’ll be down soon.”

“Okay,” I call back. I set the timer and head back into the kitchen to see what else I can keep myself distracted with. There’s a couple bags of cranberries out on the counter, so I cut the packages open and rinse them off, then grab a bag of sugar from an upper shelf.

I’ve just measured the right amount of sugar into a pot for the cranberry sauce when the doorbell rings.

Instantly, nerves tingle all over my body.

“Can you get that, honey?” my mom calls from upstairs.

“Yep,” I call back. I head toward the front door. As I approach, I hear a little voice say, “Mama, look at the pumpkin!”