Page 73 of When Ivy Met Mr. Holiday
And Ivy had only been trying to help me. That should have counted, too.
But I was beginning to feel like the actual Grinch who had stolen Christmas.
Judging by the disaster of the gingerbread house we half-heartedly assembled—leaning like a condemned building, gumdrops sliding off like prison escapees—Ivy was clearly upset.
Every time she looked at me, I wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch me or kiss me. Her emotions were all over the place.
And let’s face it: I deserved to be punched. I should have just told her the truth to begin with. But she didn’t seem to know what to do with the truth, so I wasn’t sure where that left us.
Sienna wasn’t helping my cause. She was doubling down, telling everyone I had kissed her and that we were getting back together. Her latest post was a red-carpet throwback with the caption:Some pairings never go out of style.
Ivy ripped off a sizable chunk of gingerbread cookie from one of the walls and shoved it in her mouth.
“You know what I was just thinking about?” she mumbled through the bite.
Chewing with her mouth open was slightly horrifying, but I kept that to myself. Better for her to chew gingerbread than my headoff.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked, eager for anything—she’d barely spoken to me today.
She swallowed dramatically and grabbed another hunk of gingerbread. “I was just thinking of all the headlines I could pitch to the paparazzi. What do you think of these?
“Jack Holiday: Actor, Heartbreaker, Gingerbread Architect (A Poor One). Witnesses say his latest project leans harder than his ability to commit to one woman. Ivy Wells seen holding frosting and the backstory we’re all eager to hear.
“Insiders Claim He’s Gone from Hollywood Heartthrob to Hallmark Hot Mess.
“Jack Holiday and Ivy Wells Spotted with Matching Shame Hats and Emotional Damage. Sources say their gingerbread house wasn’t the only thing crumbling.”
I chuckled, even though she was clearly cracking up at my expense. “Very clever. And I think you’ve had enough sugar.” I gently pried the fistful of gingerbread wall from her hands.
“Thanks for that. I don’t feel very good.” She rested her head on the table, some of her hair landing in a blob of frosting. “We ruined Christmas. And maybe our entire lives. And by the way, I’ll never be able to kiss anyone but you. Do you want to know why?”
She sounded accusatory, but I thought this was a good thing. Her never being able to kiss another man sounded perfect.
“Because you’re the best at it. You’re the best at everything,” she growled before I could answer.
“Okay, Ivy.” I took her hair out of the frosting and tried to wipe it off the best I could. Clearly, I’d pushed herover the edge. “Let’s get you to your room. I think you need some sleep.”
“It’s your fault I didn’t sleep last night.”
“I know.” I stood and picked her up out of her chair. Surprisingly, she let me. Even more shocking was the way she curled into me.
Every eye in the room turned to us, glaring at me like I’d done something wrong. I supposed I had. I’d lied to them and undermined their trust. And because of me, they were being held hostage in their own home.
“Ivy’s not feeling well,” I offered contritely.
Jaquelyn jumped up in her gingerbread apron that said,Baking Spirits Bright, and rushed over to us.
“She’s probably faking it,” Drew muttered.
Kira swatted him. “Be nice to your sister.”
“She lied to us.”
“I did lie to you. And I’m so, so sorry,” Ivy wailed.
Jaquelyn brushed her hand over Ivy’s brow. “She feels a little warm.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I was just trying to be a good friend. I didn’t mean to ruin everyone’s Christmas.”
