Decked Out with Ivy (Red Maple Falls #13)

Chapter 9

Ivy pulled the last box out of the attic and handed it to Cody. “That’s it,” she exclaimed as she descended the ladder. Cody lingered, his hand angled behind her back, moving with her as she backed down the rickety wood steps. It was sweet, but she’d managed these foldout stairs many times. She could almost feel the heat radiating off him, reminding her of the way it did when he wrapped his arm around her to shield her from the aggressive paparazzo.

She was trying not to think about it, but it was hard to ignore that protective instinct he had. Though for all she knew, it was just another way for him to play it up in front of the cameras.

Once she was on solid ground, Cody glanced toward the boxes piled against the wall. “You sure you don’t have another ten boxes up there? Maybe a storage unit? I don’t think you have enough.” He picked up one of the boxes. “Didn’t you say the decorations were from you and your sister’s travels? How much have you traveled?”

“Well technically yes, but we’ve also been gifted ornaments by our mom and our aunt. We have some of our grandma’s old ornaments. She was very serious about Christmas. In her will, she divided the ornaments amongst the family. She even made a spreadsheet on a piece of graph paper. Each sheet was placed in a protective covering with a color-coded binding. Mine was green. Ivy. My sister was red because that was Gran’s favorite color—poppy.”

“You’re joking?”

“There are two things I never joke about—Christmas and my Gran.”

Cody held his hands up in surrender. “Noted.” He placed a box in the living room and came back for more. “You were close to your Gran?”

“We all were. When she passed, we all were kind of lost. We’d lost our grandpa a decade earlier, but Gran was there to be the backbone of the family. She held us together—kept us close, you know? When she passed, my sister and my cousins promised each other to keep the family tight. It’s been two years, and I see my cousins more than anyone. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“I wouldn’t know what that’s like. I only have Ronnie, and she has her own family, so I know my place.”

“You told me about your dad. What about your mom?”

He shrugged, a flash of pain darkening his green gaze. “Not much to tell.” He about-faced it out of the living room to grab another box.

She couldn’t ignore the hurt in his eyes. When he returned, she took the box decorated with a snowman from his hands and placed it on top of the other Santa box. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. I just don’t like to talk about the past. No good can come of it.”

“I beg to differ.”

“You have a past filled with a family who obviously loves you. I’m sure your grandma baked you cookies on the weekend and showed up for your school concerts.”

Ivy laughed. “Gran was a terrible baker. She once burned those break and bakes you get at the supermarket so badly the fire department showed up. Another time, she mistook the salt for sugar. Do you know how a brownie tastes with a cup of salt? Like jumping in the ocean with your mouth open.”

Cody’s lips parted into a gorgeous smile, flashing those beautiful white teeth. “She sounds like she went to the same culinary school as my mom.”

“Your mom couldn’t bake, either?”

“Couldn't bake. Couldn't cook. That woman could set water on fire, and she did once. She forgot she was boiling water for mac and cheese and all the water eventually evaporated before the pan caught fire. I was eight and discovered it. I grabbed the sprayer off the sink and hosed it down. Then got in trouble for getting everything wet.”

“But you put the fire out?”

“I did. Didn’t matter. My mom didn’t see things that way. She only saw the negatives. She lived her life from one negative thought to the next. I guess I couldn’t blame her. She was a single mom who worked twelve-hour shifts. She was tired. Smoked like a chimney. It eventually killed her.”

“How old were you?”

“Nineteen. I’d already moved out, starred in my first film. I was on set when I got the call. My whole life I thought if I could just take care of her, maybe she’d like me. But after that first check, I paid her rent for the year, and she never said thank you. I paid for the funeral but didn’t go. I don’t know if anyone went.”

Ivy’s breath caught in her throat as Cody’s shoulders hunched and his eyes cast downward. The weight of his pain seemed to fill the space between them, and something inside her tightened painfully. Her chest ached with the helplessness of it all—she wanted to reach out, to take the hurt away, but all she could do was stand there, feeling her heart crack for him. For the upbringing he had to endure. For the life lessons he was forced to learn at such a young age, lessons that no child should have to face. And for the tragedy of never truly knowing what it felt like to have people who loved him unconditionally.

“That’s really sad,” she managed, but her voice wavered.

“It’s the past,” he said and opened a box. “Mine isn’t worth revisiting, but yours is. Tell me about this ornament.”

Ivy smiled at the pewter oval that was inscribed beneath a castle. “Castle in the Clouds. It’s right here in New Hampshire. I didn’t have to travel far. It’s a historic mansion built by a shoemaker. It's at the top of a mountain and has stunning views. I love to go up there in the fall. I imagine your house in LA is bigger, but you won’t have those views.”

“Maybe I’ll check it out one day.”

“If you need a tour guide, I might be available.” Her eyelashes fluttered, and she wondered what the heck she was doing. Flirting, making plans for a year later. That was not part of their agreement.

“I think I’d like that,” he said, and her eyes snapped to his. Was he just saying that to be polite, or did he mean it?

“Of course, if you’re not off somewhere exotic filming another movie.” There. Reestablish the boundaries.

He broke eye contact and looked at the ornament in his hand. “Yeah,” he said as he placed the ornament in the box.

She didn’t want it to get weird, so she reached across him and plucked another ornament from the box. The red and white striped glass ornament dangled from her finger. “This was my grandma’s. It’s one of my favorites. It’s so simple, but it is old. Sunset Boulevard times.” She smiled. “It looks like a candy cane, and when I see it, I’m transported back to Gran’s living room. The whole family gathered around the tree.” A wave of nostalgia washed over her. Pure joy and happiness at being lucky enough to have those memories, but also sadness at knowing what it was like to never be able to experience it exactly the same way again.

Memories were funny like that—a mixed bag of emotions that opposed each other but in doing so balanced one another out.

She stepped around Cody and placed the ornament on the tree they had put in the stand before venturing up to the attic. She stared at the ornament, then looked up at the ceiling as if Gran was there watching over her. Then she glanced down and gasped.

“What’s the matter?” Cody asked with a startled shake to his voice.

“We forgot the lights. We can’t put ornaments on until we get the lights on.”

He glanced at the boxes. “Where are the lights?”

“Red box with an old pickup truck on it.”

“Right here.” He lifted the box, brought it closer to the tree, and removed the lid. The five perfectly wrapped strands of lights were on display just as she and Poppy put them away. “Wow. I was expecting a tangled mess.”

“Have you met me?” She reached around him and grabbed a perfectly circular arrangement. She untucked the plug from the tightly woven strands and let it fall to the floor, unraveling as it went.

“Do you just walk around it in a circle?” he asked.

“Maybe an amateur would, but there are no amateurs in this house.”

“I’d say I’m an amateur,” he countered.

“You’re a quick learner.”

“That’s what my acting coach told me back in the day.”

“Let’s put it to the test.” She held the end of the strand of lights at him. “Hold this.”

He took it and waited. She wondered if he ever decorated a tree at all.

“When was the last time you decorated a tree?” she asked.

“Thirteen. Thought it would be a nice surprise for my mom. I earned money by doing yardwork for the neighbors and was able to buy a real tree with all the fixings. When I showed her the big reveal, she only complained about having to clean the needles for the next month.

“After Christmas was over that year, I took the tree to the curb, ornaments and all, and tossed it.”

She stood there with the lights in her hand, her heart aching for the thirteen-year-old kid who just wanted to make his mom happy. He wanted to spread Christmas cheer and received nothing but disappointment and sadness.

“I bet it was a beautiful tree.”

“You know what? It was.” He smiled slightly, and the ache in her heart eased.

She raised the strand of lights. “So you’re going to put the strand into the tree, drape it onto the branches, come around to the back, but instead of wrapping it, you’re going to loop it over the branch beneath and bring it around.”

“What’s the point of that?”

“You won’t have to walk in circles when it’s time to take the lights off. You’ll be able to just pull them right off. A trick my grandpa passed to my dad… who passed it to me and Poppy.”

They worked in silence, placing the lights inside the branches, not too far inside where they disappeared, but also not too close to the edge where it would expose all the wires.

“I had no idea there was such an art to this,” he said.

“There’s an art to everything.”

Once finished, Ivy clapped her hands and spun toward the boxes. “Time for ornaments.” She held her finger up and glanced around. “Not yet.” She lifted the top of the trunk that was repurposed into a coffee table and retrieved a blanket. She draped it in front of the tree. “Now we’re ready.”

“What’s with the blanket?”

“In case we drop ornaments. They hit the wood floor and shatter on impact. The blanket will reduce impact and hopefully keep them intact.”

“Have you broken a lot of ornaments?”

“When I was younger, I dropped my mom’s favorite ornament. It was an accident, and she knew that. Assured me it was okay, but I knew she was devastated. My dad tried to fix it, but it was in a hundred tiny pieces. I felt so bad. I locked myself in my room and cried.”

“How old were you?”

“Eight. Then when I was sixteen, I found the exact same ornament on eBay and gave it to her that Christmas. She was so happy. Now she’s the only one allowed to touch it.”

“Why don’t you tell me what ornaments aren’t breakable and let me hang those? I don’t want to risk breaking a family heirloom.”

She tapped her chin and stared at the boxes. “That one.” She pointed to a Norman Rockwell popcorn tin that she turned into ornament storage. It held all the filler ornaments. “You can break all of those, and I wouldn’t bat an eye. But… try not to. I don’t feel like going into the cold to replace them.”

“I will handle them as if they were one of your most treasured decorations.”

“Thank you.” She grabbed the clear glass ball filled with sand and beach glass she got on a summer girls' trip to Willow Cove, Maine, when she was in college. Lifting on her toes, she placed it, then moved onto the next, recalling the memories that came with each ornament.

Chuck Berry’s Run Run Rudolph rang through the radio, and Ivy’s head bopped with the beat. She hummed the lyrics, even though she wanted to belt them at the top of her lungs. If Poppy was there, that’s exactly what she would do. But she didn’t want to scare Cody off before she could open his eyes to the joys of the season, and her voice was definitely not it.

Her foot tapped in beat with her head, then her hips moved on their own accord. She couldn’t help it. Christmas music had that effect on her.

A strong hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her against him. His hips moved with hers before he twirled her around. He maneuvered them away from the blanket and the tree. A laugh bubbled up and burst out.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“If you can’t tell this is dancing, then I have more problems than I realized.” He spun her around and tugged her into him.

“You’re pretty good at this.”

“Ronnie made me take dancing lessons. She thought it would help pad my resume.”

“Did it work?”

“I have yet to put the skill to good use.” He dipped her, and she laughed harder, but as she came up, their eyes locked. The music seemed to fade into the distance, and all she could hear was the erratic beat of her heart.

“There are no cameras here,” she said as his head angled toward her.

The air evaporated, making it hard to breathe as his lips hovered mere inches from hers. “I know.”

She wanted to say screw it and smash her lips to his, find out what it was like to kiss him without having to put on a show, but this was Cody Chance, big Hollywood actor, and she was just a small-town girl. Their backstories sold headlines, but in reality, their stories didn’t mesh. “Maybe we should stick to the script.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb running across the sensitive skin of her jaw. “But the real fun, the time the scene comes alive is, when you improv.”

“Who are we improving for? Again, no cameras.”

“Good, because then I couldn’t do this.” He crashed his lips to hers. A surprised squeak slipped from her mouth but was muffled by his lips. An unexpected surge of desire rushed through her as she parted to let his tongue in.

Her hands went to his head, fingers diving into the strands of brown hair, gripping and tugging as the kiss went from hot to explosive. Every reason why this was a bad idea drifted off with the crooning notes of Frank Sinatra’s rendition of I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm .

He backed her up until her body was pressed against the wall. His big warm chest, flush to hers, his lips still devouring her with a fierceness she’d never experienced.

A moan rumbled up her throat, muffled by his relentless kiss—a kiss she never wanted to end. Desire spiraled through her, moisture pooled between her legs, and when his hand molded her ass, wrapping her leg around his waist, she didn’t hesitate to throw her arms around his neck and hook the other leg.

Both hands dug into her ass, holding her up, the wall supporting her from melting into a puddle of need and want. “Bedroom,” she said in between kisses, barely able to form words.

He stopped, and disappointment flooded through her system. Her breaths came in hard, ragged gasps.

“Are you sure?” he asked, cupping her cheek.

He didn’t have to ask. Her actions were telling him exactly what she wanted, but he stopped to make sure she was okay. A gentle warmth spread through her chest, landing right in her heart.

She nuzzled into his hand, and he kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t want you to think—”

She cut him off. “All I’m thinking about is you and me naked in my bed. Don’t make me beg.” And she would. She was desperate for his touch, desperate to feel every sensation he was capable of making her feel.

A smile tilted his mouth. “I might enjoy that.”

She nipped his lip, surprise slamming into her at her boldness. She rather liked the feel of taking the reins. “Or I can just take control.” She grabbed her shirt, using the wall to anchor her, and ripped it over her head.

Desire pooled in the greens of his eyes, turning them nearly black. She swallowed at the intensity. His head dipped, his tongue dragging along the red lace. Her body arched, pressing into him, begging him without words. Desperation spiraled together with need, and she held his head as he peeled the lace away. His breath brushed her nipple, tightening it into a tight bead. His mouth descended, his teeth scraping lightly. Electric current shot through her body, little sparks erupting with each swipe of his tongue.

Using her back, she pushed off the wall. He didn’t stumble as he pivoted them toward the hallway.

“Second door. Right.” She grabbed his hair, tugging his head and crashing her lips to his. It was a frenzy of lips, teeth, and tongue before he tossed her on the bed.

She expected to feel exposed, but all she felt was sexy as he leered down at her, that same dark intensity holding onto her as he unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, then the next.

He looked at her like she was so much more than a small-town girl who knitted Christmas sweaters. He looked at her like she was the reason the sun rose and set, the reason it snowed in the winter and flowers bloomed in the spring.

Her eyes followed his fingers as they popped each button until it hung open. With a couple of yanks at the arm, the shirt was on the floor, leaving him in a white t-shirt that clung to the hard lines of his body. She swallowed, imagining her hands and tongue running along the ridges she could make out through the material.

He reached behind him, ripping his t-shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor. Her breath caught as she stared at the hard ridges and tight skin. She licked her lips, desperate to run her tongue along each ridge.

“Take your pants off,” he said as he unzipped his own and shoved them to the floor. He stood there in nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs. If her breath had caught before, then now she found it near impossible to breathe.

Owning the power that had zinged through her before, she unzipped her jeans and kicked the heavy material onto the floor. Cody’s knee pressed into the mattress. His hands wrapped around her thighs, and he hauled her toward him.

He dipped his head and before she could process what was happening, he tugged her panties aside, and his mouth was on her.

She cried out as his tongue slashed her clit with one precise swipe. Her body arched, pressing into him. His hand landed on her stomach, pushing her into the mattress as he worked that clever tongue. Pleasure coursed through her, dragging her under the waves of desire and making her delirious with desperation.

She needed him inside her, stretching her and stroking her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, trying to drag him to her. With a growl, he held her tighter, his tongue pushed into her wetness before he slipped a finger inside her.

Her body detonated, a never-ending rush of ecstasy flooding her body, drowning her in euphoria. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, but she never wanted it to end.

She rode the surge, tremors wracking her body in a violent swell. He pressed a single kiss to her sensitive nub, and she grabbed his head, pulling him toward her. He climbed over her, his mouth glistening with her pleasure. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and smiled.

Despite her orgasm, a new desire rose, making her frantic. “I need you inside me.” Her body twisted and arched, begging for more, begging for him to give her what she so desperately needed.

His hand reached toward the end of the bed, grabbing the condom he had placed there. He ripped the foil packet open, and she grabbed the waistband of his boxer briefs and peeled them over his hips. His cock popped out and an excited rush ran through her veins.

She bit her lip, wanting to taste him. She didn’t wait for him to make a move. He did for her it ;was only right she did for him. Summoning her newfound boldness, her hands pressed into his chest and pushed him onto the bed.

“What are you—?” His words cut off as she took him in her mouth. Hard and solid and almost too big, but that didn’t stop her from taking as much as she could. “Holy fuck,” he muttered as her head dipped, and her tongue slid down his shaft.

He hardened between her lips, a powerful confidence shedding her sweet and innocent image. She relished this new self-assurance, letting it control her movements.

“Okay, enough of that.” He grabbed her by the arms and jerked her up, tossing her beneath him. He sheathed himself with the condom, tore her panties off, and positioned at her entrance.

“I was enjoying myself,” she said.

“You’re a little too good at that. I didn’t want this to end before it even started.”

A smile spread across her face, pride swelling inside her. She had no idea how many women he had been with, but she would take the compliment. She unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

His cock nudged at her slick entrance, his head dipping. He took a nipple into his mouth just as he thrust into her.

She cried out, clawing at his back as he pumped into her, his tongue and lips nipping and sucking the tight bud before finding her mouth.

He thrust harder, seating himself completely. Pausing for a moment, he rested his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled, chests rose and fell, and their heat became one.

“You feel too damn good.”

“Then why are you stopping?”

His green eyes met hers. His weight felt heavy but comfortable, like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. A lock of his dark hair fell forward, slightly damp from the snow.

Cody Chance was gorgeous. The whole world knew it. But did they know that exact heat in his gaze? The way the left corner of his mouth dipped slightly lower than his right? The line of stubble on his chin not only black, but brown and red and blond?

Did they know the deep husk of his voice when he spoke the utter truth? Because when he opened his mouth and said the next five words, she’d never felt more honesty escape another human being.

“I never want this to end.”

She had no idea if it was a line, but she wanted to believe it wasn’t. She wanted to believe he was so turned on by her that he was losing all control.

She urged them to roll over until she was on top, taking back the reins. His eyes met hers, and she lifted, sliding his cock out of her before pushing back down. His hands gripped the sheet on either side of her head. His eyes closed, determined wrinkles forming on his forehead.

“You feel good too,” she said, continuing to slide up and down. She moved slowly, enjoying the rush of sensations.

A sexy bite of pain pinched her hip as he grabbed her, his fingers digging into her flesh before he pulled out and slammed into her. She cried out as he flipped her beneath him again and continued the ruthless pace. Her nails scraped his back, her legs circled his waist, and she held on as her body became a puddle of pleasure beneath him. His eyes locked on hers, and she held his gaze as they both raced toward a release. Tremors spread through her, a fiery heat consuming her. Her eyelids weighed heavy, her head lulling to the side, but she refused to look away from those beautiful green orbs. His jaw tightened, his muscles went rigid, and her walls tightened around his cock. A million explosions detonated, sending her spiraling over the edge. His grip tightened even more, his thrusts growing in speed, pumping into her with relentless drives. The intensity of his gaze grew as his body stiffened. He slammed into her, his orgasm causing him to shake. He held himself from collapsing on her. His sweat dampened forehead rested against hers, and he kissed her soft and sweet before rolling off her and disposing of the condom. He disappeared out of the bedroom, and she slid up the mattress, resting against the headboard.

Did he just hump and dump? He wouldn’t. His clothes were still on the floor. He returned, holding a washcloth and gently cleaned her before tossing the cloth into the hamper on the far side of the room. He kissed her again and crawled in beside her, pulling her into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and she slid her cold feet in between his legs. He tightened his hold, kissed the back of her head, and cuddled into her. It was intimate and unexpected. She might even call it a Christmas miracle.