She looked down into the grinning face of a child who continued to yank on her sweater with hands smeared with red velvet cake. Seeing the excited face of the child, Ivy squashed the dismay of having her sweater ruined.
“Miss Ivy, there’s no mistletoe here. You shouldn’t be kissing,” seven-year-old Hazel instructed. The child had been the first student Ivy had tutored when she’d started volunteering at the Alpine.
She stooped next to the little red-haired sweetie and grinned. “You’re right, but sometimes, you don’t need the magic of mistletoe. Sometimes, the magic inside a person is all you need.”
Hazel leaned closer and whispered, “He looks like magic.”
Yes, he did. Time to change the subject. “Would you like to help me make the trees sparkly?”
The child hopped excitedly in place. “Yay!” She ran in a circle around Ivy, strawberry blond curls bouncing on her shoulders and singing about rocking around a Christmas tree.
Ivy caught her on the second round and scooped her up. “Step back and let Mr. Cole unload those trees. Then we can get busy.” She hugged Hazel, then set her down, and turned to Sylvie. “I expect you’ve already dug out some of last years decorations.”
Sylvie beamed and gestured to a forlorn stack of boxes in one corner. “There they are. But the seniors all brought some decorations to add to the mix.”
In addition to the cups of coffee and hot cocoa on the table with the seniors, there were baskets and boxes of their prized holiday trinkets. Ivy walked over to examine the offerings.
Many of the decorations seemed antique and the collections of Hallmark ornaments next to homemade treasures, framed photos and miniature snow globes were a testament to Christmases past, when these seniors had been surrounded by their loved ones.
Melancholy stole over her as she touched one of the ornaments, a wooden bear, standing on a drum hanging a tiny red ball on a bristly green tree. “It’s lovely.”
“It’s the first ornament my husband gave to me,” said one woman, her short, silver hair elegantly styled around her intelligent, but wrinkled face. Her faded blue eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“Are you sure it’s okay to use it?” Ivy asked.
“Of course. Christmas with our children meant so much to him. He’d love to know this little bauble was still bringing joy to kids.”
A thought occurred to Ivy. “How’s your penmanship?”
“A little shaky, but it will do,” the woman replied.
“Can you make an inventory of these decorations? I want to be sure to return them to their owners.”
Lavinia joined them. “I’ll help with that.”
The mouth-watering aroma of freshly popped popcorn filled the air as one of the board members settled two large bowls on the table. “We’ll be stringing this as well.”
Even the old men at the table picked up the pre-threaded needles and reached for the freshly popped kernels.
“If you have this in hand, I’ll go see if I can help Cole.”
Lavinia smiled absently as she settled down to write out a list of the ornaments, meticulously leaving room for the owners’ names. Ivy just knew the handwriting on that list would resemble the penmanship on the naughty and nice list Chris kept tucked in his pocket.
She shook her head with a chuckle. When had she started drinking the saccharine sweet Santa Kool-Aid?
Well, why not? Everyone else seemed swept up by it. This was the most she’d enjoyed herself during a holiday season since before her aunt had lost her in the mall the day after Thanksgiving.
Cole had shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his plaid shirt. He was kneeling on the floor as Chris held one of the fragrant trees in place. Ivy detoured into the kitchen and filled a large pitcher with fresh water. They’d only have to keep the trees well watered for a few weeks, until the new club was ready. She’d already made a deal with a company that provided her seasonal décor to donate a couple of large artificial trees for the new club. They’d thrown in lights and berry sprays as well. All, of course, in standard red and green; nothing but tradition for the kids and seniors who’d use the center.
When she carried the pitcher back to the common space, Cole and Chris were setting up a second tree. Sylvie and two of the senior ladies had corralled the ten or so kids present at one table and were working on a craft project, making macaroni art snowflakes to fix on the trees.
The whole space buzzed like a hive, a happy place where the work was made easier sharing the load between people who truly cared.
Ivy made several trips to the kitchen, and once the final tree was in place and sucking up the fresh water, she took a step back to look at the three trees Chris and Cole had chosen. One large, one medium sized, and the last one about the height of a small child. The display brought a smile to Ivy’s face because it reminded her of the Three Bears. Or a small family. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked longingly at the trees, imagining what it could be like to share a special holiday with people she loved. Her career had kept her so busy that she rarely went home until after the holidays. Just once, she’d like the day to be about family, and not commerce.
“That’s an impressive frown,” Cole commented as he eased up to her side. Chris had stepped over to the craft table and was helping with the project. “I thought the trees were perfect, but if you want something more Charlie Brown-like, we can go back.”
Ivy laughed, relaxing the crinkles on her forehead along with the silly longing for a family. “They’re just right.”
Cole folded his hand around hers. “I’ll make the date up to you.”
She turned into his embrace. “This is perfect for a first date.” Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d skipped lunch in favor of cobbling together a display for a shoe store in one of the moveable cases. “But maybe we could get a pizza later?”
“I can make that happen. Lavinia brought in some cookies and goodies. She’ll probably get them out shortly. In the meantime, where are the lights? I can start stringing them on the trees while you go steal a handful of popcorn to tide you over.” He pressed a finger against his lips, as if he’d never tell if she did indulge.
She led him to the boxes stacked against the wall. “I marked everything plainly last year, so they should be easy to find.”
“Any chance you checked to be sure you only stored working strands?”
“Not a rank amateur, you know.” She poked his shoulder and returned to lifting boxes free of the stack. “Here they are!”
The box contained at least thirty strings of multicolored and white mini-lights. Together, they quickly sorted the contents, laying the right amount of lights in front of each tree, based on the size. At the bottom of the box, she found the extension cords and surge protectors she’d stored at the end of the year when she’d taken down the display.
“You’re right. This isn’t your first rodeo.” Cole bent to retrieve a cord, stretching the fabric of his jeans taut over his flexing butt muscles.
The spit in Ivy’s mouth dried up. After the sexy kiss, seeing his butt outlined now headlined her hastily revised bucket list. She shoved away thoughts of jumping him right then and there. “I usually secure the extension cords to the trunk with twist-ties.” She searched through the jumble of cords and located the plastic bag with the paper-covered wires. She held the baggie aloft. “It makes it easier to not overload any of the light strings.” God, she was rambling. She wasn’t sure if being tongue-tied would be an improvement, though.
“That’s smart,” Cole commented as he began securing the first cord on the largest tree.
They worked in companionable silence for a while. One of the senior citizens started singing “Jingle Bells” and by the second verse, everyone joined in. Once that song ended, Chris started a new song, “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth.” Judging by the puzzled looks on some of the kids’ faces, it was a brand new song for them. Eventually, one of the older girls broke into a more contemporary carol, chann
eling Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You.” Lavinia and Sylvie joined hands and danced with a couple of the younger kids.
When they had the first tree strung with lights, Cole motioned everyone to come over for an impromptu lighting ceremony. As the crowd of twenty or so folks joined them, Ivy’s breath hitched in her throat. As crowds went, it wasn’t large, and the seniors and young children were as far away from threatening as the hot, humid days of July seemed. Still, shudders tripped up her spine and she clenched her fists to keep them from being visible. Cole disappeared around the tree to plug the lights in, and Ivy moved backward out of the crowd. Sweat dotted her forehead and her heart raced, even as she exited the tight, excited circle of onlookers.
When the lights flickered on, a boisterous cheer echoed around the large space, bouncing off the concrete floors and ancient, stamped tin ceiling.
Fighting for each calming breath, Ivy continued backing up until she reached the table where Lavinia had finished setting out cookies and juice boxes. Her skin was like ice and her fingers trembled while she tried to strip the cellophane wrapping on a straw, clutching the apple juice in one shaking fist.
A warm hand wrapped around hers and plucked the straw from her numb fingers.
“Are you okay?” Cole asked.
Nine
Cole had never seen a panic attack in person, but he’d bet his construction engineering degree that one such crisis held Ivy in its grip. Her face was pale, and all the pretty pink of her cheeks had vanished. Her breath came in gulping gasps.
Her cinnamon curls bounced as she nodded a quick yes.
He doubted she was as okay as she wanted him to believe. He chafed her frigid hands between his fingers. “Your hands are like ice.”
“It’s cold in here.” She tried to pull her fingers free.
He wasn’t about to let her. Instead, he drew her closer while the rest of the crew began setting decorations on the lit tree. The other two trees would have to wait for lights.
“Want to tell me what this reaction is about?” He murmured against her temple as he wrapped his arms around her, hoping to cocoon her from whatever fear had gripped her.
“You already know. I don’t like crowds.”
The smallness of her voice triggered a protectiveness he hadn’t realized he’d felt for her. Had probably felt for her since Chris had driven into her car’s bumper.
He rested his cheek on the crown of her head. “I’ve got you. Take a deep breath. They’re staying over there to trim the tree. We’re okay here, far away from them.”
Her ribcage rose and fell and rose again. The trembling in her limbs eased until her body was pliable against his chest. “It’s a stupid reaction, I know. But I can’t help it. Childhood trauma.”
He’d bet there was a story there. “How in the hell did you survive last Saturday, during Santa’s arrival?” That crowd had numbered in the hundreds, hemming the parade in on both sides.
“You held my hand.”
“Really?”
She leaned back in the circle of his arms and pinned a candid look on his face. “Yeah, really. Whenever I get surrounded, I feel as if I’m being smothered. My vision starts to dim, my legs turn to jelly, my heart races. And believe me, all those things happened last week. But you squeezed my hand and I felt…safe.”
Cole’s own heart started thumping. She felt safe with him. He understood all too well what that was like. Chris had made him feel safe like that as a young child, when he’d take Cole to visit his mom in prison.
He returned her steady gaze and let a rueful smile drag the corners of his lips up. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Where you feel threatened by a crowd, I typically want to get lost in one.”
“Well, supposedly, opposites attract.” She bent her head, pressing her forehead to his chest, the cascade of her hair hiding the smile he heard in her voice.
He eased back from her and tucked the locks behind her ears, and tipped up her chin. He pressed a kiss to her lush lips, not like the one they’d shared earlier, but something more tender, with more promise. An unspoken pledge to always be her safe harbor in a crowded sea.
She broke the kiss and stepped back with regret in her eyes. Lifting fingers to his jaw, she said, “Maybe I should ask for a do-over on this first date.”
Cole shot a glance to the clock on the wall. “We should be done here within an hour. What do you say to starting this over around eight?”
She bit her lip, and Cole wanted to lick away any possible sting. Even, white teeth were revealed with her sweet smile. “I’d love that.”
Ivy had avoided being too close to more than three people at a time throughout the rest of the evening, but her smile was quick and bright, and her laughter glittered on the air whenever Cole heard it, which was frequently.
Cole propped his hands on his hips and scanned the industrial space, seeing potential he’d never noticed before. The high ceilings with exposed ventilation and plumbing pipes. Concrete floors made the space echoey and cold for a bunch of kids, but for a business venture, it was the right combination of modern and vintage design. Perfect for a growing construction business. Based on her glowing recommendation, Sylvie’s husband had contacted Cole about a condo complex rehab project and he’d had several other nibbles about potential projects. Business was definitely picking up. But first, he’d have to finish the new club. Fortunately, that job was ticking along nicely.
Cole picked up a stack of empty boxes and carried them to a storage area.
Only he and Ivy remained at the Alpine Club. Everyone else had left thirty minutes ago, and he and Ivy had stayed to tidy up. Parents had picked the children up and they’d all left after hugs from Chris and Lavinia, and promises to be good enough to stay on Santa’s nice list. Even the oldest kids among the group crossed their hearts, declaring their intentions to Chris. They might not believe, but they weren’t taking chances. And they weren’t ruining it for the younger kids.
Chris lived up to his appearance throughout the night. His belly jiggled when he laughed, and roses colored his cheeks. If Cole were honest with himself, he’d say Chris looked like the real deal, even dressed casually. But he’d always looked like that. Cole’s earliest memories of the man all revolved around the Santa myth. God knew Chris had given Cole the best gift of all time when he’d welcomed Cole into his home once his mom was sentenced to twenty years in prison.
Ivy was wiping off the refreshment table when Cole returned from the storeroom. He joined her, taking the cloth from her hands and tossing it on the table. “It’s good enough. The morning staff can finish tomorrow.” He turned her body into his arms and settled his hands on her waist. “I know we already did the whole first kiss thing, but since this is a do-over…”
He lowered his face toward hers.
Ivy pressed her fingers to his lips before they could connect to hers. He arched a brow at her, puzzled by the merriment dancing in her eyes.
“While we were going through the donated ornaments, I found something.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the door leading into the industrial-sized kitchen. She paused on the threshold and pointed up.
His gaze followed and lit upon a plastic ball resembling mistletoe. He grinned.
Her laugh snuck under his solar plexus and tickled him. She stroked his jaw. “Hazel helped me put it up while you weren’t looking. Now it’s official. You can kiss me.”
He didn’t waste time or words, just captured her mouth under his. His tongue flicked into her mouth and he pulled her tighter to his chest. Her tongue dueled with his, and she speared her fingers into his hair. Her soft breasts pressed against his chest made another part of his anatomy twitch and lengthen. He nudged her backward until she was against the wall and then flexed his hips to hers. God, the things this kiss was doing to him. Imagine what it would be like skin-to-skin. His hips nestled in the vee of her legs, tight against her damp heat.
&nbs
p; His heart thudded in his chest and he angled his head, sprinkling kisses down the column of her throat. Letting his left hand wander up her torso, it landed on her apple-shaped breast. The tip of her nipple peaked under his palm and he squeezed as he softly bit the tendon in her neck, near the base of her throat. A soft moan escaped her lips. He dipped his tongue into the hollow between her collarbones and traced up the other side.
Ivy’s hands roamed his back, skating lower until she reached the hem of his plaid shirt. She lifted it and slipped her fingers under the waistband of his jeans. He cursed the T-shirt he’d tucked into his pants, wanting the heat of her fingertips on his bare ass.
He captured her lips once more, thrusting his tongue past her teeth and resettled his hands on her waist. Finally, he lifted his head. “I’m sorry. I’m giving you the bum’s rush here.”
Her smile was sweetly sensual. “I’m not complaining.” She bit her lower lip. “But maybe we should slow it down.”
Cole drew a calming breath, fighting to get his unruly body under control before stepping away from her. “Slow.” He pecked her lips. “Sweet.” He nuzzled her chin. I can do this.
Her breath sighed out, warm and wet against his throat, and his body leapt to attention again.
Unexpectedly, she ducked under his arms and danced a few paces away. Cole braced both arms on the doorjamb and practiced the sort of deep breathing he’d used last year when he’d sprained his ankle playing basketball with friends. The added bonus of the recalled pain had exactly the dampening effect needed for his out-of-control libido.
He reached overhead and yanked down the plastic mistletoe, then jammed the bauble in his back pocket. He had visions of tacking it to the ceiling over his bed, with Ivy stretched out under it. He faced her, finally, taking in her winsome smile. “Want to hear what I think about this place?”
She cast a skeptical glance around the room. “Good riddance?” she joked.
Taking her hand, he tucked it into the crook of his elbow and guided her around the room. “I’m thinking this would make a great office for my company.”
The Santa Accident Page 6
