Chapter 9
9
IVY
“So, I couldn’t help but notice the lack of Christmas decorations around here,” I poke.
Niko carries on behind the bar, pouring a mixture of liquids into a blender. I hear crinkling wrappers before seeing him start to plop red and white candies on top of the ice.
We’re still the only people in the bar, but he doesn’t look concerned about the lack of business. I’m more curious than worried. I didn’t know that a bit of snow and wind kept people locked up in their homes around here. Back home, short of a blackout snowstorm, everyone’s up for a drink with a friend.
“I wanted you to help me with ’em,” he answers bluntly.
My heart warms. “You have some hidden away somewhere, then?”
Darting his eyes up from his concoction, he snaps the lid on the blender. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the Scrooge comments. Who told you I was a grumpy fucker who hates Christmas?”
“No one told me that, exactly. Just that you were a bit . . . Scroogey , per se. But I’m going to guess and say that you’ve been pretty closed off with everyone. Am I right?”
“Maybe.”
“Exactly. So, you can’t be grouchy about it.”
Instead of replying, he keeps his eyes on me and starts the blender. I laugh at his obvious attempt to cut the conversation and lean my elbow on the bar, gazing at him with an ease that I feel deep in my chest.
Gosh, is it ever easy with him. Even with the heaviness of our earlier conversation and the daunting aspects of our future, I’m settled. More content than I’ve been in years.
I expected to be terrified of what’s to come, but despite my lingering nerves, that’s not the case. Maybe that’s why we’re always told to wait for the right person. From where I’m sitting right now, Niko looks like the one .
When the blender abruptly stops, he’s pouring the red slush into an identical cup to the one he had for me earlier. I lean forward on the bar stool and try to remember if I saw him put any liquor in it this time.
“It’s a mocktail, Ivy,” he says, settling my curiosity. “Still need you to try the drink before the party.”
“You didn’t have to make me another drink. Gosh, I already know it tastes amazing.”
He places the cup on the bar in front of me before adding a matching red straw. “Just try it.”
“Fine, fine.”
I pull it a bit closer and then take a sip. It’s the same consistency as a normal daiquiri but is minty instead of fruity. The mild burn of peppermint grows when I take another drink and moan, immediately taking another.
It’s not until I suck in through the straw and get nothing but air that I realize I’ve finished the entire thing. I lean back and dab the corner of my lips with my thumb, only slightly embarrassed.
“Good?” he asks, humour lining his tone.
“I told you it would be.”
No longer behind the bar, he comes to my side and taps my chin, bringing my eyes up to meet his.
“Still need to hear you say it, angel.”
I grin. “It’s incredible. Maybe even the best drink I’ve ever had. It’s like peppermint hot chocolate in slushy form.”
He smooths his knuckles along my jaw, nodding. “I’ll make it for you every day, then.”
“Every day might be a bit excessive.”
“The baby likes it.”
“Let’s give it a few minutes to settle before deciding that,” I tease.
Niko leans a hand against the bar and ducks his head to bring us closer together with his height. “There are a couple of bins of decorations in the basement. I haven’t gone through them in a while.”
“I’d be honoured to go through them with you and then decorate this place. It’s really not giving Christmas in here.”
“We can’t have that,” he grunts.
“No, we can’t. Especially not so close to the holidays. I want everyone to come in here and be smacked across the face with holiday cheer,” I gush.
He offers me a hand, and I smile while taking it. Once I’ve slid off the stool, Niko surprises me by sweeping me off my feet in one strong lift.
“Niko!” I kick my sock-clad feet in the air and link my hands behind his neck. “I’m pregnant, not broken.”
“Just let me carry you.”
My exhale is dramatic. “Fine. If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Is this going to be a common occurrence? Or are you having a weird burst of chivalry right now?”
His chest vibrates against my side, but unlike in the kitchen, he doesn’t laugh audibly.
“I’d carry you everywhere always if you let me. I don’t see that happenin’, though.”
“Because I’m just so independent?”
“You are independent. But I was thinkin’ more stubborn.”
I gasp. “Stubborn? You don’t know me well enough to make that conclusion.”
“Don’t I? You were around me quite often before. Just ’cause you weren’t always talkin’ to me doesn’t mean that I wasn’t payin’ attention.”
“Give me an example, then, Mr. Know It All.”
“Okay, smartass. What about you hatin’ beer but always sufferin’ with it when you’d have me over for dinner? Why didn’t you tell my son to get you somethin’ else to drink?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” I say.
A smug smirk. “Because you’re too stubborn to admit that you don’t like somethin’ that you’ve already gone along with lovin’ for so long. And how about when you refused to do a gift exchange last Christmas because you wanted to buy gifts for everyone and not just one person? It would have been a helluva lot easier to shop for a gift without havin’ to know the person I was buyin’ for, but no, Ivy wanted to buy for everyone. I wasn’t going to tell you no, so I spent weeks plannin’ your gift.”
I’m burning up from the inside out, both from embarrassment and the shock of learning just how much attention this man was paying to me and the things I did. It was a year ago that I was stress cooking a Christmas turkey for Travis’s father in our cramped apartment, but I remember every moment of that evening.
The pride I felt when Niko took the first bite of dinner that I’d slaved all day over and told me how good of a job I had done. How relieved I was when he opened his gift and kept it clutched close all night. It was only a cheap lighter with his initials burned along the side, but after forcing Travis to tell me something about his father and learning that he loved cigars, I thought it was a safe enough gift.
Travis got me a pair of thick socks with sharks on them, and Niko . . . he got me a pair of fleece-lined leggings and heated gloves after hearing me complain once about being cold while brushing off my car in the mornings. I only noticed the tiny box he’d hidden in the left glove once he’d gone home that night.
There was a charm in the box for my bracelet. A ball of yarn with two hooks, one in each side.
Pulling my hand from Niko’s neck, I jingle the bracelet around my wrist and blink past the burn in my eyes.
“I always thought that Travis had told you to get this,” I whisper.
His jaw pulses. “He didn’t tell me a fuckin’ thing to get you. I wasn’t sure if I was goin’ to give it to you, but when you opened his gift, I knew you needed it. Fuckin’ socks. Pathetic.”
“The charm was my favourite gift last year.”
“Shouldn’t have been.”
“I like that it was. Especially now,” I admit, pinching the charm.
“What about your parents? They must have gotten you somethin’ nice.”
“They did. But nothing as thoughtful. Usually, they fill a giant basket with yarn and designs and magazines, along with a few gift cards for my favourite restaurants. I’m grateful for the gifts, but I just really appreciated yours. It was everything I needed at the time, you know?”
“Yeah, angel. I know.”
“I feel bad that all I got you was a lighter.”
He turns down the hallway and kicks open the door leading to a dark staircase. With a yank on the string hanging from the ceiling, light floods the space.
Even as we start down the stairs, he keeps me in his arms, no sign of setting me on my feet anytime soon.
“It’s in my pocket right now,” he says.
“The lighter? No way.”
“I take it with me everywhere.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Maybe. Doesn’t mean I didn’t love your gift.”
I loop my arm back around his neck and rest my cheek against his chest, inhaling his scent. My nausea hasn’t returned since before I ate, meaning things are looking up. His cologne doesn’t bother me, and neither have the eggs or the fancy drink he made me.
“I’ll get you something better this year,” I swear.
He palms my knee and shifts it as we turn a sharp corner and reach the open area beneath the stairs where stacks of bins rest against the wall.
“I’ve already got my gift from you,” he declares, staring down at me with intense brown eyes.
“That’s right! How could I forget about the sweater?”
I wiggle in his hold, and with a huff, he lets me down onto my feet. The small radio on the shelf beside a dusty bookcase catches my attention, and I start fiddling with the knobs before Niko can get to them.
Static screams before I find the local station that’s playing Christmas music. “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” floats through the mildew-infested basement, and I start rocking side to side with the beat.
“Do you dance, Niko?” I ask teasingly, offering him my hands.
The big man scowls, hands gripping his hips. “No. And be careful. It’s dangerous down here.”
“Will you dance with me anyway? Just for this one song.”
Jutting my lip, I bat my lashes and wiggle my fingers. The song is already half-over, but as I swing my hips and grin up at him, I know I’d be content with only a few seconds of dancing with him.
I beam when he sets his large hands in mine and tugs me against his chest. With confident movements, he has a hand holding my waist and the other interlocking our fingers before leading us in a quick dance. My laugh is loud as I follow his steps and let him twirl me around the room. He’s careful to keep me from the low dips in the ceiling and the stacks of bins, and I let my mind go empty as my trust in him grows.
I know he won’t let anything happen to me.
The song comes to an end, but he doesn’t release me. Another one starts, and he pulls me close. I don’t have to look up to know that he’s smiling at me again. There’s a knowing feeling deep in my soul that tells me he’s enjoying himself as much as I am.
The radio broadcaster interrupts the music. “That was ‘Jingle Bell Rock.’ We’ll be back with more music in a few minutes, but for now, I hope everyone is bundled up with a fire roaring and those they love close by. The projected snowfall over the next twenty-four hours has risen to twenty inches with blizzard winds of fifty kilometres per hour. It’s advised that everyone stay home until further notice. Road closures have started to take effect in the following counties . . .”
My mouth pops open as I lean away from Niko’s chest and stare up at him. “You heard that, too, right?”
“Yes.”
I blink once, and he’s moving, on high alert. We abandon the bins of decorations, and I chase after him when he starts up the stairs. My pulse quickens the higher up the staircase we get until, finally, we’re in front of the door.
Niko pulls the small red curtain from the window in the door. His inhale is sharp enough to cut.
The street is hidden behind a wall of white. The wind howls, and thick snowflakes blow in the air. It’s cold enough that I can feel the nip of it sneaking through the crack below the door.
“We’re not going anywhere anytime soon, are we?” I ask softly.
Niko lifts a hand to the back of my neck, holding it there. “No, angel. I’m afraid we’re stuck here for a while.”