Page 82 of When Ivy Met Mr. Holiday
“Do you want me to turn around?”
She shook her head. “I want to be your girlfriend.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek, her warm lips lingering.
No doubt a dozen telephoto lenses caught it.
“And I know that means being in the spotlight. It’s just going to take some getting used to. Just promise me you won’t ever let another woman touch your lips. Unless it’s on the big screen. And, you know, maybe you could limit that, too. Start playing more celibate characters.” She giggled.
“For you, I would.”
She blinked, shocked. “You would?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “You say my kisses have ruined you for all other men. But what you don’t know is that you have made it impossible for me to kiss anyone else.”
“Jack,” she sighed dreamily, but in a slightly panicked way. “That’s so sweet, but so, so dangerous. Do you want me to be the most hated woman on the internet? If I were to standin the way of your kissing scenes, I’d have to go into hiding. Women need the fantasy. There are actually memes of you that say,Girls be like, ‘I needed this,’and it’s just them watching that scene of you making out with what’s her name in your last movie. There would be blood if I took that away.”
I laughed and stole a kiss. “I need the real thing, and that’s you.”
“That was a super cheesy line, but wow, it was so good.” She settled back in her seat and let out a huge breath. “All right; let’s do this. Let’s go take back the narrative or whatever Tori said.”
Ivy had no idea what it meant that she was willing to face this with me. “All right, darlin’—smile and wave.”
I eased us toward the zoo waiting for us, making it abundantly clear we weren’t avoiding them and that, if anything, we welcomed their intrusion. We didn’t really, but it was the game we had to play.
Ivy turned on the charm, waving like she was a Disney princess on a float and smiling brightly. You would have never known that just a minute earlier she’d been half tempted to turn around.
I slipped my shades on and gave a practiced nod to the flashing bulbs. Nothing panicked or smug. I just wanted them to know I was in control and didn’t have anything to hide.
Several photographers and reporters surrounded the vehicle, snapping photos and shouting out things like:
“Are you two really together, or is this just more PR spin?”
“Mr. Holiday, care to comment on the Sienna photo?”
“Ivy, how do you feel about Jack’s betrayal? Were you blindsided by the photo?”
“Care to respond to the rumors that your relationship was fake after all?”
“Wow, they don’t pull any punches, do they?” Ivy gritted through her teeth while still flashing an award-winning smile.
“Never,” I murmured, slowly rolling down the window, just enough to give the vultures a comment.
“As you can see, Ivy and I are really together. Now, excuse us; we have some Christmas shopping to do.”
A photographer pounded on Ivy’s window. “Ivy, doesn’t it bother you that Jack was caught kissing another woman?”
To my surprise, Ivy rolled down her window. “You know what bothers me? Sienna kissing Jack without his consent and paying one of you to catch it on camera. What bothers me even more is that Callan Baxter—you know, her ex-fiancé—is in town, and none of you have reported onthat.”
The reaction was instant. Cameras stopped clicking mid-shot. A few recording devices actually slipped from stunned hands. Every eye outside the car went wide, the silent consensus clear:Oh, hell—how did we miss that?
Meanwhile, I fell more in love with Ivy. She couldn’t have played it better if we’d scripted it.
“See you in town.” Ivy waved and rolled up her window.
I took advantage of the confusion and sped away, knowing there would be a chase.
Still feeling a surge of affection for Ivy, I blurted, “Marry me right now.”
She blushed, giggled, and nudged my shoulder. “You’re crazy.”
