Chapter 6 Ivy
IVY
The bakery was alive with the warmth of a busy morning.
The bell above the door jingled constantly, signaling the endless stream of customers.
The scent of baked bread and buttery scones filled the cozy space, mixing with the sweet, sharp aroma of cinnamon and sugar from the morning’s batch of pastries.
Regulars chatted at the tables, laughing and sharing stories over steaming cups of coffee and flaky pastries.
It was the kind of morning that Ivy loved—a blur of movement and familiar faces, a sense of community that made the bakery feel more like a home than a business.
Her hands worked quickly, sliding steaming coffee mugs across the counter, exchanging warm smiles with customers as she moved back and forth between the register and ovens.
But even with the flurry of activity, Ivy’s mind wasn’t fully on the bakery today.
Every now and then, her gaze drifted to the corner of the room where Celeste sat, nursing her own mug of coffee.
Celeste, in her perfectly tailored suit, looked like she had wandered into the wrong world entirely.
Her polished appearance seemed at odds with the rustic charm of the bakery—the exposed brick walls, the wooden beams overhead, and the handmade ceramic mugs lining the shelves.
Ivy couldn’t help but feel amused and intrigued by the contrast. Celeste stood out, yet at the same time, in her own way, she fit in.
There was something about the way she sat, quietly observing the morning rush, that made her seem oddly at home here, even if she didn’t quite belong.
Ivy shook her head slightly as she wiped down the counter.
Celeste had been spending more time at the bakery lately, showing up early in the mornings before her meetings or swinging by in the afternoons when things were quieter.
It had become part of their unspoken routine—Celeste arriving just after the morning rush, her eyes scanning the space until they found Ivy.
Sometimes they talked; other times she just sat there, watching the rhythm of Ivy’s day unfold.
But today, Ivy couldn’t shake the nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface.
The more time she spent with Celeste, the more complicated her feelings became.
Celeste was a force of nature—confident, successful, and maddeningly attractive.
But there was also something vulnerable beneath her polished exterior, something that made Ivy want to get closer, even though her mind screamed at her to keep her distance.
The problem was that Ivy didn’t know if she could trust her.
She couldn’t forget the reason Celeste had come to Hollyridge in the first place—to tear down her beloved bakery to build a resort.
Ivy’s bakery was small, but it was hers, and she couldn’t let her feelings for Celeste blind her to the reality of the situation.
What if all this was just temporary? What if Celeste was still planning to tear down everything Ivy had built?
As Ivy handed a steaming mug of coffee to Mrs. Gilmore, who was prattling on about the Christmas festival, she stole a glance at Celeste. This woman—this maddeningly beautiful woman—was turning her world upside down.
And she didn’t know what to do about it.
The Christmas festival was in full swing by the time Ivy made her way through the crowded town square.
Lights twinkled from every corner, casting a warm glow over the snow-covered streets.
People bundled in scarves and hats milled about, sipping hot cocoa, laughing, and admiring the stalls selling homemade crafts and festive treats.
Ivy could hear the faint sound of Christmas carols in the distance, the familiar melodies blending with the happy chatter of the crowd.
Ellie was skipping ahead, her face flushed with excitement as she pointed out the decorations and tugged Ivy toward the booth where they sold her favorite homemade peppermint fudge. Ivy followed, a smile tugging at her lips despite the turmoil in her heart.
She spotted Celeste standing by one of the booths deep in conversation with the mayor.
Even in the chaos of the festival, Celeste looked composed, her long, tailored coat and scarf making her stand out in the crowd.
But when their eyes met, Celeste smiled—a real, genuine smile that sent a flutter through Ivy’s chest.
For a moment, Ivy considered turning around and walking away.
It’d be easier to avoid Celeste tonight, to lose herself in the holiday cheer and pretend her feelings weren’t as complicated as they actually were.
But before she could make her escape, Celeste was beside her, her hand brushing lightly against Ivy’s arm as she spoke.
“Enjoying the festival?” Celeste’s voice was soft, but it carried over the noise of the crowd, grounding Ivy in the moment.
“It’s beautiful,” Ivy replied, her voice catching slightly. “Ellie loves it.”
They fell in step together, weaving through the throng of people.
The air was crisp and cold, but the warmth from Celeste’s presence made Ivy’s cheeks flush.
They didn’t talk much, just walked, soaking in the atmosphere, their shoulders occasionally brushing against each other in the crowded streets.
As they passed one of the larger trees decorated with twinkling lights and ribbons, Ivy noticed something hanging above them—mistletoe. A small, green sprig tied with a red bow dangling innocently between them.
She stopped, her heart pounding in her chest.
Celeste followed her gaze, her eyes softening as she realized what Ivy had seen. There was a brief moment of hesitation, a pause where they both stood still, caught in the festive magic of the evening.
Then, without a word, Celeste stepped closer, her hand finding Ivy’s. She lifted her gaze, meeting Ivy’s eyes with a quiet intensity that made the rest of the world blur into the background.
Ivy’s breath hitched as Celeste’s thumb brushed across her knuckles, a simple touch that sent warmth spreading through her body. She felt herself swaying closer, her heart racing as the space between them disappeared.
When their lips met, it wasn’t a hesitant kiss like before.
This one was filled with all the pent-up emotion, the longing that had been building between them for weeks.
It was soft but urgent, a silent conversation in the cold December air, speaking all the words neither of them had been able to say.
Ivy’s fingers tightened around Celeste’s hand as she deepened the kiss, her free hand tangling in Celeste’s hair, pulling her closer. She could taste the hint of coffee on Celeste’s lips, could feel the way Celeste’s breath hitched as their bodies pressed together under the mistletoe.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting on each other as they tried to steady themselves. Ivy’s heart was pounding, her mind racing with the intensity of what had just happened.
“Ivy…” Celeste’s voice was barely a whisper, her fingers still entwined with Ivy’s. “I…”
But Ivy didn’t need her to finish the sentence. She could see it in her eyes—the same vulnerability, the same need that she herself felt. She knew, in that moment, that she wasn’t the only one caught in this confusing whirlwind of emotions.
Whatever this was between them, Ivy now knew it was real.
“Come with me,” Ivy said softly, her voice filled with a quiet determination. “Let’s get Ellie and get out of here.”
Once alone inside, Ivy shut the door softly, feeling the familiar, comforting warmth of her home surrounding them.
They moved quietly through the hallway, passing by Ellie’s room where she could hear soft snores through the door, and then stepped into Ivy’s bedroom, closing the door to leave the rest of the world behind.
In here, the stillness was thick, intimate, wrapping around them like a shared secret.
Moonlight streamed in through the window, casting a gentle silver light that seemed to soften everything it touched, including Celeste.
Ivy took a steadying breath, her pulse quickening as her eyes locked with Celeste’s.
It was hard to believe that the woman standing before her was the same one who had only recently walked into her bakery with a gaze as icy as winter.
Now, though, there was nothing cold about Celeste.
Her dark eyes held Ivy’s with a warmth and vulnerability Ivy hadn’t seen before.
Celeste reached out first, her hand finding Ivy’s, and their fingers laced together with a soft familiar that sent a pleasant shiver up Ivy’s spine. The unspoken feelings they’d held back until now seemed to hover in the air, heavy with promise.
Celeste’s voice, low and steady, broke the silence. “Ivy,” she whispered, her voice reverent. “You mean so much to me. Being with you—this—feels like something I should’ve found a long time ago.”
Ivy’s heart surged at her words, and she stepped closer, squeezing Celeste’s hand. “I don’t want to keep pretending that this doesn’t feel right. I’m done holding back.”
The weight of the tension over the last week melted as Celeste wrapped her arms around Ivy, pulling her into a slow, gentle kiss. This wasn’t like their quick, stolen kiss under the mistletoe; it was deeper, passionate, filled with the kind of longing that neither of them had dared voice until now.
Ivy pulled back slightly, resting her forehead against Celeste’s as they caught their breath. She could feel her heart beating wildly, echoing in the stillness of the room.
“You don’t have to go. Stay with me tonight,” she murmured, her voice filled with quiet intensity.