Decked Out with Ivy (Red Maple Falls #13)

Chapter 12

Just as Ivy expected, pictures of her and Cody at the ugly sweater party made the rounds on social media the next morning. Cody had woken up to several texts from his agent telling him to keep it up. He didn’t even respond before pulling Ivy into his arms and making love to her again. She could still feel his touch on her inner thighs as she stood in her mother’s kitchen.

Cody had to stay late to film a few night shots and told her he’d have Jim drop him off when he was finished. With their mouths busy all morning, she never got to prepare him for what to expect at a Parker Gingerbread Competition. The Ugly Sweater Party was mild. Nobody really cared who won. It was all in good fun. But her family took their gingerbread houses seriously. So seriously, Cynthia and Rome didn’t talk for over two weeks once because Cynthia accused Rome of copying her idea. Then there was the time Poppy had bumped into Trey’s house, knocking it to the floor in a glory of gingerbread and frosting. Trey had insisted she sabotaged him on purpose, while Poppy remained adamant it was an accident. Ivy still wasn’t sure she believed Poppy was innocent, though she didn’t think her sister meant to shatter the house into a million pieces. Maybe just one or two easily fixable breaks.

Ivy placed bowls of candy at each station set up around the kitchen. Each bowl held a different candy from peppermints to M&M’s to gumdrops. Bags of frosting were also placed at each station, along with bottles of sprinkles. Those were the provided staples, but if someone had a vision, they were allowed to bring their own supplies. Ivy always brought extra M&M’s since Trey always stole hers.

“So, is it serious?” Aunt Claire asked as she popped a gumdrop in her mouth.

She had never been a great liar and lying to her family seemed like a jailable offense, but after their many nights together, she’d admit that somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred.

“I don’t know,” she said, being as honest as she could. “He’s only here for filming, then he’ll be back to California and off to whatever it is celebrities do.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. Look at Bex and Chase, they make it work, and they’re both just as in love as when they first started dating,” Aunt Claire said.

“I agree.” Mom placed sheets of gingerbread cookies on the island. “We see the way you two look at each other.”

“You can always tell by the eyes.” Aunt Claire popped another gumdrop in her mouth.

Mom swatted Aunt Claire’s hand. “If you don’t stop eating those, we’re not going to have any to decorate with.”

Aunt Claire stuck her green tinged tongue out, but before Mom could reply, the house filled with familiar voices. Rome, Trey, and Cynthia came into the kitchen, bickering as always, not even stopping as they gave everyone a hug hello.

“I did not steal your idea,” Cynthia said to Rome.”

“Are you willing to admit that in a court of law?”

“You’re going to sue me? The judge would laugh in your face.”

“Oh heavens, not this again.” Aunt Claire sighed. “I swear on all that is holy, if you two stop talking this holiday season, neither of you are allowed over for Christmas dinner. And!” She held her finger up when they went to argue, cutting them off immediately. “No cookies. I won’t allow Ivy or Poppy to smuggle.”

“But, Mom…” Cynthia all but whined. Hilarious, considering she was a thirty-four-year-old lawyer who dominated the court rooms of Boston before moving back to Red Maple Falls to take over for Roger Higgins, the only lawyer in the county, when he retired.

“No buts. Make up or bake your own damn cookies.”

“Yours are the best,” Rome said in his charming voice as he bear hugged his mother.

Aunt Claire let out a screech as he hoisted her off the floor. “Put me down, you ogre,” she said through laughs.

“Put your mother down!” Uncle Richard called out from the living room where he and Dad were watching football.

“And he wonders why he can’t keep a girl,” Cynthia said, shooting below the belt.

“Because I love my mother?”

“No, because you think you can get away with anything by flashing a smile.”

“Did you ever think I don’t want to keep a girl? I’d rather keep my options open while I’m having fun in the process.”

“Ew.” Cynthia waved her hand dismissively. “Spare me the details.”

“Yes, please,” Aunt Claire said. “And maybe keep it in your damn pants until you find the right woman.”

Rome looked at Trey, and without a word, they both broke out into laughter. “Yeah sure,” Rome finally said.

“Speaking of women,” Ivy said. “Louise mentioned you stole her spot at the brewery the other day.” She smiled, happily adding fuel to the fire, especially when they were teaming up on Rome. It was one of her favorite pastimes.

Aunt Claire smacked his shoulder, though it looked like she was attempting to hit his head and fell short. “What is wrong with you? Louise is a sweet girl, and you’re always so mean to her.”

“Mean? Because I parked my truck in a public parking lot?”

“You stole the spot. At least that’s what she said.”

“She’s a liar.”

“Team Louise,” Cynthia said.

“You’re just mad my log cabin gingerbread house is going to be better than yours.”

“I was going to do a log cabin, too,” Aunt Claire announced, and both Rome and Cynthia groaned.

“Seriously? You too?” Cynthia asked, tying her blonde hair up in a bun, proving she was ready to win this thing.

A knock echoed through the house, and Ivy gasped. Cody was early. She hadn’t given her family the talk yet in hopes of convincing them to behave themselves. Of course, today they were already hyped up on their bickering, which meant it was only going to get worse.

“I’ll get it,” Rome said, and Ivy latched onto his arm, using her entire body to keep him from moving. At six-four and two hundred pounds, it was a miracle he stopped.

“What is your deal?” he asked.

“I’ll get it,” Ivy said. “Go set up the video call with Poppy.” Poppy was still away on business but wouldn’t miss gingerbread night for the world.

“Is it that actor?” Rome’s sharp jawline seemed to sharpen even more, if that was even possible. Both her cousins looked like they had been chiseled out of stone, though Rome, with his elongated face and higher cheekbones, looked like he could cosplay as a nutcracker.

“Yes, and I am begging you not to threaten him.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“He is not here for your entertainment. He is here to build a gingerbread house and hopefully survive our family to tell about it tomorrow.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No, now go away.” Ivy shoved at his chest, not even moving him a centimeter, but luckily, Rome turned toward the kitchen. She straightened her shirt, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Cody went to step inside, but she shoved him back, closing the door behind her. She planted her lips on his, and while she used the kiss as a distraction tactic, she was the one who became distracted, sinking into his embrace and relishing in the sensations his mouth stirred inside her.

“Hi,” he said, head tilting.

“Hi. I just need to warn you… My family is super competitive.”

His brows knitted together. “Okay.” He said it so matter-of-factly, he clearly didn’t understand the severity of the warning.

“No, you don’t get it. They are psycho when it comes to their gingerbread houses. There will be name calling, yelling, taunting, everything that is not very Christmassy.”

“Sounds like fun. Let’s go in.”

She grabbed his hand, yanking him away from the door. “Promise me you won’t judge me on what you’re going to witness once you go in there?”

He kissed her once, twice, three times. On the third time, he lingered, swiping his tongue along her lips and dipping into her mouth before drawing away. “Promise.”

A bright light lit the night, and they both turned in the direction of the burst. That damn paparazzo was on her mother’s lawn, camera in hand.

“What the hell, man?” Cody said.

“This is private property,” Ivy added, hoping he’d be reminded of how the sheriff wouldn’t hesitate to give him a ticket. She was well aware this man had been promoting their fake relationship, but it didn’t feel fake anymore, and this was her parents’ house. Her childhood home. This felt like a violation of not only her privacy, but everything she cherished in this life.

“Sorry, but your pictures are selling like hotcakes. I can buy myself a new car at this rate.”

“Or you can get the hell off the property,” Cody said, and Ivy grabbed his hand as he went to walk down the steps. This guy wanted Cody to react, to cause some sort of trouble so he could profit from it.

She latched onto his arm and pulled him toward the door, shoved the door open, and called out to her cousins. Rome and Trey stormed toward her, that determined set in their brows as if they were ready to commit murder. And they probably would for her. Regardless of the bickering, they all had each other’s backs. She nodded toward the lone paparazzo.

They leered down, one six-four, the other six-five. To Ivy they were big teddy bears, but to anyone who didn’t know them, they were downright scary.

“We got a problem here?” Rome asked as he and Trey each took a step.

“You know what we do with problems around here,” Trey said. “Middle of nowhere. No one would hear you scream.”

“And even if they did, it’s your word against ours. Two beloved members of the community,” Rome added. “No one would take your side.”

“And they have the best lawyer in the state in their corner,” Cynthia said, coming outside to stand beside Ivy. “I would destroy you in the courtroom.”

“In other words,” Rome said, “get off my aunt's property, or we’ll make you, and we won’t be gentle about it.”

The paparazzo took a step back. “No need to get violent. I got what I wanted. I’ll be leaving.” He started down the long gravel driveway, then stopped and glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact with Cody. “I’ll see you soon.”

They all stood there on the porch until the asshole was out of sight.

“Thank you,” Cody said to Trey and Rome. “That guy has been relentless, trying to get a rise out of me.” He held his hand out to Rome. “Cody.”

“Rome.” Rome took his hand and probably squeezed harder than necessary.

When Rome dropped his hand, Cody shook Trey’s, and Trey introduced himself.

“Must be a real bitch being followed like that,” Rome said. “I’d have my ass locked up more times than not for losing my shit.”

“And his sister would have to bail his ass out,” Cynthia said, turning to Cody. “Cynthia, these buffoon’s sister and Ivy’s favorite cousin.”

“You are definitely not the favorite,” Rome said.

Ivy laughed. “Keep messing with my best friend, Rome.”

Rome rolled his eyes with as much exaggeration as Ivy had ever seen him muster, and he walked back into the house.

“Just ignore him,” Trey said. “He gets cranky when people don’t treat him like God’s gift to the universe.”

“Sounds like a lot of people in Hollywood I know,” Cody said, and Trey laughed.

“I can imagine. Come in. Can I get you something? A beer?”

“He doesn’t…” Ivy stopped, not sure how to explain Cody’s odd situation to Trey. He didn’t have a problem and could drink, but the public couldn't know about it.

“I’d love one.” Cody wrapped his arm around Ivy’s shoulder and pulled her close. “No cameras mean I can be myself. Let’s have some good old-fashioned Christmas fun.”

It also meant he trusted her family. He didn’t know her family, but he trusted them, and for her, that meant more than anything Santa could put under her tree.

In the kitchen, Trey handed Cody an IPA from Five Leaf Brewery and then cracked one open for Ivy.

“And the drinking has commenced,” Ivy’s mother said.

“What, just now? It’s been going on since the game started,” her dad said as he reached into the fridge and retrieved a beer. “Good to see you again, Cody.” They had met at the ugly sweater party and bonded over their shared love of Clark Gable. With a beer in hand, he returned to the game.

Mom grabbed a bowl and placed it on the counter. “Keys,” she said and was met with sighs around the kitchen. “You know the drill. You must stay an hour for every beer you drink, and then you can get your keys. If not, you’re sleeping wherever you find a spot, or you can call an Uber.”

Cody patted his empty pockets with a smile. “I got a ride here.”

“Smart man.” Mom shoved the bowl at Trey, who dropped his keys with an eye roll. “I’m not twenty-one. I know my limit.”

“You will always be a baby in my eyes,” Mom said. “Sorry. Not sorry. Next!”

Everyone dropped their keys into the bowl, and Mom left the room, hiding it so no one pulled a fast one on her. Not that anyone would. She would be disappointed, and that was somehow a thousand times worse than anger.

“Is that you?” Cody stared at a framed picture of Ivy with jet black hair. It was a picture of her after she signed the papers for the business and was officially a business owner.

“It was her emo phase,” Rome said.

Ivy lightly swatted at his chest. “No, it wasn’t, you idiot. I had just bought the tuxedo shop, and I wanted people to take me seriously. My whole life had been filled with blonde jokes, in no small part thanks to these jerkheads.” She motioned toward Rome and Trey, who both had a form of blond hair themselves. “I thought black hair made me look intelligent. Professional.”

“She ruined her beautiful hair,” Mom said.

“Let’s not talk about the nightmare it was for her to go back to blonde,” Poppy chimed in from the tablet set up on the kitchen island. Ivy had spent almost an entire day at the salon and had to go back two more times after that.

“It was a process,” Ivy said, but didn’t expand on details. “Anyway, so yes, I had black hair for a while, and I’ll probably never do that again.”

Cody tugged at a blonde strand. “I like the blonde, but you look hot either way.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Thanks.”

“Are we ready?” Mom called out, so Dad and Uncle Richard could hear her, too.

“In a minute,” Dad said. “The Patriots are second and goal.”

“For crying out loud.” Mom sighed, then looked at Cody. “Since this is your first time, I’ll go over the rules while we wait for them.” She motioned toward the living room. “Each person gets their own station. Each station is supplied with gingerbread to make a house and two gingerbread men.”

“One gingerbread man and one woman,” Cynthia corrected.

“Excuse me,” Mom said. “One of each. Every station also has the same amount of candy and a bag of frosting to pipe and assemble your house. You could have brought more supplies if you needed, but I see you’re not here to win.”

Ivy stifled a laugh as Cody’s eyes widened. “Once again, Ivy didn’t fill me in on the important details.”

Ivy reached into her back pocket and pulled out the outline she had been working on.

Cody pointed at the paper. “Do you seriously have a blueprint?”

“I told you… we take this seriously.”

Dad and Uncle Richard walked into the kitchen and Mom clapped her hands together. “Just in time. On your mark, get set, go!”

Everyone ran to their station, and Ivy laughed when Cody stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking like a lost puppy. She tapped his shoulder and guided him to the station beside her.

“Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”