Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Do I still think men and women can be friends? Absolutely. But . . . sometimes it’s good to leave the door open to more.”
Ivy Wells
Ivy
I snuggled against Jack on the couch. He’d just snuck down from my room since my parents were still uncomfortable with us sharing a bunk bed. So weird, but we would play by their rules. Besides, they hadn’t said anything about the couch.
I actually loved sleeping on the couch on Christmas Eve, although it was already technically Christmas morning.
It was well past midnight. My siblings and parents had just gone to bed after putting together bikes and a dollhouse and filling the stockings.
It was quite the sight to behold, with the Christmas tree twinkling and all the stockings hung carefully, overflowing with gifts.
A low fire burned in the fireplace while Christmas carols quietly played on my phone. In a word, it was magical.
And after this past week, I needed the quiet time with Jack.
Seriously, what a week it had been. If anyone would have told me it would end this way, I would have never believed them.
Who would have ever thought I would take on Sienna, the paparazzi, and really the whole world?
And admitting I was in love with my best friend definitely hadn’t been on my bingo card this Christmas.
But I was glad it had snuck on there and that I got to figuratively call out BINGO! And was I ever the winner.
Jack pulled me closer, his scruff brushing my cheek, warm and scratchy, reminding me just how lucky I was.
“I still can’t believe Zach won the hot chocolate contest,” he murmured.
I grinned. “Five-year-olds are creative. That Nutella and a splash of hazelnut creamer was genius.”
“I’m still trying to rinse the bubble gum one out of my mouth.” He gave a mock shudder. “I heard Graham only entered it as a joke.”
“Figures.” I pressed my back against his chest. “Drew and Kira really have their hands full with those two.”
We let a comfortable silence settle between us as we breathed in and out together in the glow of Christmas. Our first Christmas together.
Jack brushed some of my hair back. “Ivy, I keep thinking about what you did for me today. I can’t thank you enough.”
I still couldn’t believe I’d done it. I was afraid it would go wrong, but so far, the response had been amazing.
The best part being that Tae Cho had issued a public apology.
It came short of admitting Sienna had paid him to take the picture, but he had at least admitted that the photo was misleading.
And that it was inappropriate for Jack to be kissed without his consent.
Sienna had yet to say a thing. That was a Christmas present in and of itself. It meant she knew she’d lost control of the narrative.
“Oh, I think you thanked me plenty earlier.” I shivered just remembering all the ways he’d said, Thank you.
Whoa.
All I could say was: Merry Christmas to me.
“I plan on saying thank you some more later,” he murmured.
Oh, sweet jingle bells.
“I’m totally on board with that,” I stuttered out, already melting.
Jack kissed my cheek. “First, I want to talk about my past.”
I stilled. “I’d like that. If you want to. I don’t want to force you.”
“Ivy, I want to. I want you to know everything about Jack.”
I turned to face him, smiling. “I do like that guy.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “That guy likes you.”
“I kind of had a feeling.”
Jack drew in a few slow breaths, his gaze drifting over the Christmas tree and all the twinkling lights.
“I remember being five,” he said quietly, “and staying up all night waiting for Santa. Wondering why he’d never come to my house before—if you could even call it a house. We didn’t have a tree. Not even one decoration.”
He paused, his voice dipping deeper, more vulnerable.
“But I laid one of my holey socks on the windowsill anyway. Just . . . praying. Hoping he’d come. That maybe, this year, I’d get something.”
My throat tightened, vision blurring. I could see him—this small boy clinging to hope in the face of so much nothing. Still believing in magic. It was tragically beautiful. The hope of a child.
I slid my hand over his heart. My words caught in my chest—not that I could say anything to make it better. I knew Jack wouldn’t want my sympathy. So, I offered him my presence and touch.
“Obviously, he didn’t come that year—or any year. So, I made myself believe that the holidays were just a joke and I didn’t need them anyway. But then you came into my life. And I knew I needed you.”
I smiled, a tear leaking out and traveling down my cheek.
“But you were all goodness, and you loved the holidays. And I . . . well . . . let’s say I wasn’t as good as you. I’ve done things, Ivy, that I’m not proud of. Things to survive. Graham and Kaden have nothing on me at their age.”
“Jack, you were a kid in terrible circumstances. I would never judge that.”
“Even if you knew I shoplifted and had a juvenile record?”
“I love a bad boy,” I teased before sincerely saying, “Look what you’ve made of your life. That’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
“It still eats at me,” Jack admitted.
“What can we do to make that better?”
“This helps.” He tightened his arms around me.
“Done. What else?”
“Maybe just being able to talk about it.”
“I’m all ears. Anytime.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“Do you ever wonder where your parents are?” I delicately asked.
“Sometimes. Honestly, mostly out of spite. I wanted them to know I made it without their help. That’s why I never changed my last name—so there’d be no question it was me.
Even though I thought about it a hundred times, wishing I could just leave the past behind.
But . . . Jack Holiday really does have a ring to it. ”
That it did. And I couldn’t imagine Jack with any other name.
“That’s understandable. And I’m sure they know. I mean, your pretty face and name are just about everywhere.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they do,” he said with a half-hearted laugh.
“I know that doesn’t make it better. But I want you to know I’m proud of you.”
He kissed my forehead. “That’s all that matters to me.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me how you really feel over all these years. Did you think I was really that stubborn?”
Jack paused for a moment, which surprised me. I’d thought for sure he would have just said, Absolutely.
“Ivy, the timing never seemed right. You were dating someone, or I was.”
“Yeah, you were,” I teased, thinking of his string of costars.
“You have to know that while I cared for those women, they were never you. The thing was, while you are stubborn, I knew you weren’t exactly interested in Mr. Holiday’s world. And maybe your world scared me as much as mine scares you.”
Wow. That was quite the insight. I could see, after how he grew up, how my life might seem as foreign to him as his famous life seemed to me. Especially after this week of being exposed to my family twenty-four-seven.
“Jack,” I hesitated. “I really love that you want to love the things I do. But if you don’t want to eat OREOs or even get really into the holidays, that’s okay.
I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through the motions or come to every Christmas wearing matching sweaters and possibly a Grinch hat of shame. You can be honest with me. Always.”
“You want me to be honest with you,” he crooned in sultry tones.
“Uh-huh.”
“Here it is,” he said gravely, making me worry.
“The truth is that I love you, and it’s okay if I eat an OREO just because you love them.
And I still think it’s pretty chivalrous I’d be willing to fake loving the holidays for you.
But . . . I think I was wrong about the holidays.
They’re not a joke. My family was a joke. ”
I cringed a bit thinking of all my family had put Jack through—even putting him on trial. “Well . . . you’ve been more than exposed to how crazy mine is.”
“Ivy, your family isn’t a joke. They’re just quirky.”
“That’s a word for them. Probably a generous one.” I giggled.
“I’m just glad I didn’t have to wear a scarlet A sweater.”
“You and me both.”
Jack danced his fingers down my back. “I will probably never love the holidays as much as you do, but I’m glad I came, and I look forward to many more crazy holidays with your family.”
“Really? You’re not just faking it?”
“I promise I’m not. But . . .”
I froze; his but held some meaning, and I was a little afraid of it.
“Since it’s technically Christmas, I want to give you one of your gifts now.
But I don’t want you to take it as me not wanting to spend time with your family.
It’s just now that we’re a couple, I was hoping to spend some time just the two of us away from the world—and hopefully the cameras—before we both have to go back to work. ”
I leaned away, curious and a little excited about where this was going.
His lips twitched, threatening a smile, and his eyes danced. “What would you think of flying out tomorrow to an undisclosed tropical location where I can promise white sandy beaches, fruity cocktails, and no matching sweaters?”
“Well . . . I don’t know,” I sing-songed. “No matching sweaters?”
“How about matching swimsuits?” He wagged his brow.
“Hmm. The big question is, will there be bunk beds?”
“What do you think?” he groaned as he leaned in and captured my lips.
It was the kind of gentle kiss that answered my question while curling my toes as he took his time moving his lips over mine.
“So, what do you say?” he whispered between kisses.
I loved the thought of just the two of us together. Especially now that we were a couple. And Jack had been more than a good sport about the Wells family Christmas traditions.
“You know, this could be the start of a Christmas compromise. Every year you promise to wear matching Christmas sweaters with my family for a week, and then the next week we celebrate each other in a location of your choice.”
He buried his head in my neck and nuzzled right in. “I love the way you think.”
I shivered and giggled.
Jack’s head popped up. “Will this upset your family?”
“I think they’ll understand. They will probably appreciate the photographers leaving.”
“So, is that a yes?”
I smiled and nodded.
Jack brushed his lips over mine. “Merry Christmas, Ivy.”
“Merry Christmas, Jack.”