Page 23 of The Christmas Gift

Perhaps, but he didn’t give a fuck. “Which room? Or I’ll open every door until I find yours.”

Her lip quivered. “Ground floor—”

He didn’t wait to hear anymore. If their suites were designed the same, Cor knew her room would be one of two on the first floor.

Easily finding the bedroom, the one he used as an office in his suite, Cor looked around for her luggage, finding it in the closet. Ivy being outside had little to do with the throaty cries filling the suite. The voices were passionate, sounding more intimate than an afternoon of fun sex that chased her to the corridor. Cor wasn’t deaf, something deeper than just great sex was happening between Oliver and Blair.

It didn’t take him long to fill the luggage—hangers too—into the bag before setting his sights on the drawers. The clothes would be wrinkled, but that was easily remedied. Taking her handbag from the chair in the corner of the room, Cor left the same way he came.

“Let’s go.”

“I think they’re done now.”

“I assure you, they’re not.” He glanced over his shoulders. “Or do you want to stick around? Listen some more?” Frankly, he wouldn’t mind if Blair never got done, because now he had Ivy where he wanted her and he wasn’t letting go.

* * *

Ivy

“Areyou sure you know what you’re doing?”

Ivy braced her shoulders against the wall, watching Cor struggle with the Torx key he was using to tighten the bolts on the crib. He’d gotten the base together but the key looked awkward in his large hands.

He glanced at the directions spread out at his feet, making Ivy bite back a grin. He’d insisted she not do any heavy lifting, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tease him.

“Every man in Bourbon knows how to build a crib.” He grunted.

He sounded agitated, too. Ivy smirked. Served him right playing mister fix-it.For bringing her to his place.Humor also helped her forget the master bedroom with its king-size oak bed and memory foam mattress she’d ordered.

The delivery of the cozy living room set was scheduled for tomorrow. Though she hadn’t planned on witnessing its arrival, she wanted to watch the appreciation on his face when the furniture arrived.

“Why are you standing all the way over there?” He smoothed a lock of hair from his face, adjusting his man-bun to hold the flyaway strands. “Aren’t you supposed to be passing me the bolts?”

The tips of Ivy’s finger tingled, anticipating his thick strands against her palm. She wiped her hands down the side of her dress. She pushed off the wall, handing him a bolt and washer from the bag.

“Uh-huh,” he said thickly, lifting his gaze. “That’s the view I was hoping for.”

She flushed, leaning close. With a hint of mischief in her voice, she said, “I think you should tighten it a little more. You know, make sure it’s firmly in place.”

He scowled, eyes narrowing.

Ivy laughed, retreating to the wall.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely,” she said. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a builder.”

“When I was a kid, I wanted to be in the soapbox derby car racer. It was the rave at my summer camp—that’s where I met my best friends Spencer and Wren.”

“Did you race?” The thought of meeting his friends, especially since they already knew about the pregnancy, made her throat tighten with emotions.

“Three years in a row.” He grinned. “But to qualify, we had to build our cars.”

“You could have hired someone to build it.”

“Have you not met my dad?” Cor huffed. “If he said we built the car, you can bet the farm on it that we did.”

Ivy liked that about his father. The man had proved easy to work with. She didn’t have to guess or read between the lines to know what he wanted, either.

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