Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
By the time I’m done, I feel like I’ve run a marathon. The kids scatter, and I hand the hat and suit back to Mrs. Frye, who thanks me profusely before moving on to the next event. I turn to Ivy, crossing my arms.
“Happy now?”
She bites her lip, holding back laughter. “Very. You looked great up there, Cole. Really fit the part.”
“Glad my humiliation brought you so much joy.”
She steps closer, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at me. “You were a hit. I think you made those kids’ night.”
“Yeah, well, I hope you’re satisfied,” I mutter, but there’s a part of me that can’t be mad, not with her looking at me like that, all proud and amused.
“Maybe,” she murmurs, her voice softer now, her hand coming up to adjust the collar of my coat. Her fingers linger a little too long, her eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, the world around us fades, the laughter and music of the festival disappearing until it’s just her and me, standing there under the twinkling lights.
“You’re something else, Ivy,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, and her eyes flicker, a blush rising in her cheeks.
“Good to know I keep you guessing,” she replies, her voice a little breathless, and I can see the struggle in her eyes, the way she’s trying to keep her composure.
“Guessing?” I let my hand slide up her arm, feeling her shiver under my touch. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”
Her gaze drops to my mouth, and I feel the tension snap, like a cord pulled too tight. Before I can second-guess it, I lean in, brushing my lips against hers, soft at first, testing, and then deeper as she melts into me, her hands coming up to grip my jacket.
The kiss is slow, deliberate, every movement a challenge, a dare, and she meets it head-on, her mouth warm and inviting, tasting faintly of peppermint. I feel her hands slide up, curling around my neck, pulling me closer, and I let myself get lost in her, in the softness of her lips, the warmth of her skin, the faint hint of her perfume that drives me wild.
When we finally pull back, she’s breathless, her eyes wide and dazed, and I can’t help but smirk. “Guess that’s one way to get on the Nice List.”
Chapter Five
Ivy
The warmth of Cole’s workshop is a relief after the biting chill outside, but as I step inside, my cheeks flushed from the cold—and maybe a little from the memory of our drive here—I can feel a different kind of heat creeping over me. Cole’s presence lingers close behind as he shuts the door, trapping the warmth, the scent of wood smoke, and something else in the air between us.
“Careful there, Mrs. Claus,” he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper, as I step forward, catching the sharp tug of something snagged in my hair. I stop, reaching up, my fingers brushing against a bit of greenery tangled around my curls. I twist, trying to see, but all I manage to do is create a bigger knot.
Cole chuckles, his gaze fixed on me, every inch of him screaming confidence.
“Hold still,” he says, stepping in close, his broad shoulders blocking out the light as he reaches up, his fingers skimming the edge of my hair.
“It’s just mistletoe,” I manage, my voice embarrassingly shaky.
“Mistletoe, huh?” He gives me a look that’s entirely too amused, his fingers working through the tangle as his gaze holds mine, unwavering and intense. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
I try for a careless laugh, but it comes out as a faint breath. “I’m not falling for that holiday cliché.”
He smirks, his hand slipping lower, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just behind my ear. “Then why are you blushing, Ivy?”
I open my mouth to answer, but the words evaporate when he steps closer, his warmth folding over me, his hand tilting my chin up until I’m looking directly into his dark, smoldering gaze.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice a low growl, yet his grip on my chin is gentle, as if he’s giving me an out. The problem is, I don’t want one. I feel the pull, the electric thread snapping tight between us, drawing me into his orbit until everything fades but the feel of him, the way his eyes linger on my lips, the way his chest rises and falls in sync with mine.
I shake my head, barely a whisper. “I’m not telling you to stop.”
His mouth curves into a dangerous smile, and then he closes the distance, his lips capturing mine with a slow, measured intensity. His kiss is anything but gentle; it’s deliberate, a claiming that leaves me breathless, his hand sliding down to the back of my neck, pulling me closer.