Chapter Twenty-Seven
“In the book of love, friends write the most beautiful chapters.”
Unknown
Jack
“Are you all right?” I whispered in Ivy’s ear, trying to sneak a glance at what she was mixing into her hot chocolate.
She huddled in the corner of the kitchen, hiding her ingredients under kitchen towels.
The smells of chocolate, peppermint, salted caramel, and what I swore was bubble gum wafted in the air.
I wasn’t looking forward to taste-testing bubble gum–flavored cocoa.
Alongside the aromas were the sounds of Christmas carols, minor swearing, and Jaquelyn reminding everyone for the third time to keep their language G-rated and that this was a friendly competition.
No one got that memo. Along with the snowman-building and gingerbread mansion contests, this was the most cutthroat competition I’d ever witnessed, with people trying to sabotage drinks or hide ingredients. Not to mention the smack talk.
I hadn’t known Ivy’s family took their cocoa so seriously. It shouldn’t have surprised me after a week with them. In many ways, though, I was beginning to love the chaos of a big family. The matching sweaters were even growing on me. A little.
Ivy nudged me away, determined for me not to see what she was already dubbing her masterpiece.
She’d been acting off since we got home from shopping and locked me out of her room, saying she needed to wrap some last-minute gifts for me.
That sent me into a low-level panic. How many gifts were you supposed to buy your girlfriend for Christmas?
Apparently, more than one. So, tomorrow morning Ivy’s inbox would be flooded with gift cards to all her favorite stores.
And . . . maybe a little, or big, something else. But I wasn’t sure how she—or her family—would feel about it.
“I’m fine.” She did her best to hide the slight tremor in her voice. “Quit trying to cheat.”
Hmm. Something was definitely off.
“Darlin’, I don’t need to cheat. I already have this in the bag,” I responded, choosing not to press her further, though the lilt in her voice said she was definitely worried.
I knew it bummed her out that Callan hadn’t been sighted yet and that Tae Cho wasn’t responding to Paige’s calls, emails, and texts, and probably subpoenas to appear in court.
It disappointed me too, but I was more worried about how Ivy was taking it, and I was doing my best to focus on us and our first Christmas together—my first real Christmas ever.
All I had to say was Callan’s PR manager better not have screwed us over. If he’d lied to Tori, there would be hell to pay. At least the paparazzi had gotten their fair share of lighthearted and cozy photos of Ivy and me together today. Hopefully, it was enough for now to keep the studio happy.
I wrapped my arms around her from behind, resisting the urge to pull her flush against me and do and say things that were not G-rated. Instead, I settled for letting my fingers brush under her sweater and rest on her warm abdomen. All covertly, of course.
“What’s wrong, Ivy?” I said low in her ear.
She did her best to hide her gasp from my intimate touch. For a moment, she melted against me.
Ivy cleared her throat, her hands resting on top of mine, pressing my skin against hers.
“Jack,” she stuttered. “Behave.”
“I am—it’s you,” I teased while I enjoyed the feel of her raised skin. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
She let out a heavy breath. “I’m just nervous about one of the gifts I got you. I don’t know if you’ll like it.”
That was interesting. We were in the same boat. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”
Ivy turned around and buried her head in my chest.
“I don’t know. I might have overstepped my bounds.”
Confused, I ran my fingers through her hair, trying to comfort her. “Did you get me a full-body wax or a colonoscopy?” I laughed, thinking of funny things I considered out of bounds. What did she think was out of bounds?
“No, those would be ridiculous,” she giggled.
“So what is it? Did you name a sloth after me? You know how much I dislike them.”
Something about their faces just wasn’t right. While some people found them cute, I found them oddly disturbing, like a science experiment gone wrong.
“No,” she giggled again. “And I’m not going to tell you. That’s not how Christmas presents work.”
“Hey, you two, are you dancing over there?” Drew called out.
Ivy, regrettably and reluctantly, pulled away from me.
“We’re just having a moment,” Ivy sighed, still unsettled.
“Well, have one when you’re alone. There are kids around,” Drew teased.
I guessed I would have to talk to Ivy later about what was bothering her. I had a feeling it was more than her present for me. Ivy was a thoughtful gift-giver, so I wasn’t sure where this angst was coming from. Unless she, like me, was worried about drinking that bubble gum cocoa later.
“You know, speaking of dancing,” Jaquelyn sang while stirring her hot chocolate in what looked like a mini cauldron. “I ran into Eden at the grocery store this morning.”
Shane’s head immediately popped up.
“I told her she and Sophie should stop by. I always loved watching you two dance together.” Jaquelyn smiled at Shane.
“Mom,” Shane gritted through his teeth, pressing his palms flat against the table.
Poppy looked horrified at first. “You dance, Dad? Like, what kind of dancing?”
Shane looked as if he didn’t know what to say.
Jaquelyn was happy to help him out. “Your father is an excellent swing dancer. Award winning, even.”
Sophie’s countenance immediately changed, like she’d finally connected the dots, and this was the best news ever to her. “You used to dance with Sophie’s mom?”
“He sure did,” Jaquelyn said, as if she’d been waiting her entire life to expose that tidbit.
“It was a long time ago.” Shane groaned, obviously uncomfortable.
“Oh, my gosh. I’m going to call Sophie.” She dashed out of the kitchen, breaking the speed of light.
Shane stood there dumbfounded, shaking his head at his mom.
It didn’t faze Jaquelyn one iota. “Don’t look at me like that. It was bound to come out, and it’s silly you’ve never told her.”
“You know I have my reasons, Mom.”
“I have my reasons too.” Jaquelyn winked.
Shane just shook his head.
“Ooh, this is good,” Ivy whispered in my ear.
“Why?” I whispered back.
“My mother is going to play matchmaker.”
Poor Shane was all I could think.
“Five more minutes,” Bradford announced, obviously trying to move things along after Jaquelyn’s little surprise. “And then we judge. Make sure you put an even amount of your hot chocolate in the lidded hot cups provided to you.”
I kissed Ivy’s cheek. “Excuse me. I need to go pour the winning hot chocolate into my cups.”
Ivy scrunched her beautiful nose. “You’ll be drinking those words soon enough. You’re going to cry tears of joy when you taste what can only be considered chocolate heaven.”
She sounded more like herself. Maybe she really was just nervous about the gift.
“Oh, don’t you worry, darlin’, the only tears in my eyes will be from laughing when you lose.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out while Ivy formulated what I was sure was going to be a snarky comeback. She excelled at them.
“It’s Tori. I better get this.”
Please don’t let this be another PR nightmare. It was Christmas Eve afternoon. You would think people would be too busy celebrating to make trouble or complain. Except . . . Sienna. Damn her.
Ivy’s face turned the brightest shade of red. And if I wasn’t mistaken, she was trembling.
“Um, yeah. You should get that. Like right now.” She leaned against the counter and wrapped her arms around her stomach like she might be sick. She’d probably come to the same conclusion as me—Sienna was at it again.
I felt awful leaving Ivy, but we needed to know what the thorn in our side had done now.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t cheat and pour my hot chocolate into your cups,” I teased, trying to add some levity to the situation.
It did nothing to help Ivy feel better. If anything, she went from red to pale green.
“Go, go.” She waved me away.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said before hustling off, hoping I wasn’t lying.
As soon as I walked out of the kitchen, I answered the phone.
“Hey, Tori.” I braced myself for the bad news.
“Hey there, yourself.” She sounded almost chipper.
Tori was never chipper. She was either sarcastic, stressed, or savage.
Perplexed, I stopped near the stairs and leaned against the banister. “Are you trying to deliver the bad news with a side of holiday cheer?”
“Who says I have bad news?”
“I can’t imagine why you would call me on Christmas Eve unless it was bad. Unless . . . someone died, and you’re thrilled about it.”
“Oh, if only. I have a list of who I would love to see in the obits, but a girl can dream.”
Sometimes she scared me, but this was what made her the best PR manager around.
“That said, I do have good news. News that Sienna is probably dying over, which is almost as good as seeing her name in the obits. Although you already know what I’m talking about.
I just wanted to let you know that Ivy is incredible, and the love letter to you that she posted is genius and it’s already going viral.
And the comments are ah-mazing. Keep up the good work, you two. ”
I was even more perplexed than I had been a moment ago. “Tori, what letter?”
She paused. “You don’t know?”
“I have zero idea what you’re talking about.”
“All I have to say is, wow. Ivy’s a keeper, Jack. If you hurt her, I’ll torture you myself. Go online and see for yourself. I’d start with her Instagram page. And, Jack, Merry Christmas.” She hung up, not letting me get in another word.
I fumbled with my phone, trying to open Instagram. It was rare for me to go on social media or post anything myself. I had people for that. As I tried to find the damn app and log in, I smiled. Ivy’s behavior made much more sense now. I couldn’t wait to read her love letter.