Page 91 of When Ivy Met Mr. Holiday
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 aboutJack.”
I turned to face him, smiling. “I do like that guy.”
Hekissed 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.”
