Wicked Fun: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 7-9

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Wicked Fun: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 7-9 Page 35

by Lily Harper Hart


  “She definitely loves Christmas,” Max agreed.

  “She says she’s getting you a lump of coal. You must’ve really irritated her today.”

  “I did my best,” Max said. “I wanted her distracted. I didn’t think dwelling on the bad was good given the time of year.”

  “You always know the right way to handle her.”

  “I’m the gift that keeps on giving.”

  Jack chortled, delighted. “You are something.”

  “So are you,” Max said. “In case I don’t get a chance before you pop the question – and I know it’s not normal to ask my permission before proposing, for the record – I still want you to know that I think you’re just about the best thing that has ever happened to my sister.”

  “Thank you. I didn’t know I had to ask your permission, though. I’m sorry if you feel slighted.”

  “I don’t feel slighted,” Max said. “I feel … happy. I know you’re going to take care of Ivy. I also know you’re going to do it in a way that doesn’t force her away from her family.”

  “Taking care of her is a big job,” Jack said. “I need backup.”

  Now it was Max’s turn to laugh. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “How long are you going to make my sister suffer?”

  “If I answer that, are you going to tell her?” Jack was fairly certain he already knew the answer but he wanted to make sure.

  “No.”

  “Christmas. I’m still doing it on Christmas.”

  Max snickered. “I figured. You don’t have it in you to keep torturing her.”

  “That’s not it precisely,” Jack corrected. “I don’t have it in me to torture both of us. I want her to be my wife.”

  “She will be.”

  “I know.” Jack clapped Max on the shoulder. “Don’t you dare tell her. I want to keep misdirecting her so she’s actually surprised when it happens.”

  “I won’t tell her. You underestimate me. I would never ruin her happiness.”

  “Driving her crazy, though, is another story, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, definitely.” Max pointed toward a table. “Let’s sit there. This is one of Ivy’s favorite nights of the year. I want to enjoy it with her and you.”

  “Okay, but I’m taking her home early so we can … eat gingerbread cookies.”

  Max barked out a laugh. “That’s fine. I’ll hook up with one of the elves before it’s all said and done. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Yeah, I noticed all of the elves are young and sexy. What’s up with that?”

  “Why do you think Doug Bender keeps agreeing to be Santa even though he’s not a people person?”

  “This is the oddest town.”

  “And now you’re a member of it forever. Congratulations. Don’t you feel lucky?”

  Jack considered making a joke but, in truth, he felt incredibly lucky. “I don’t think any man has ever been luckier.”

  Nineteen

  “Good morning.”

  Ivy tugged her feet beneath the covers the next morning and ran them up Jack’s leg as she kissed his chin.

  “Good morning, honey. How … holy crap! I’m buying you slippers and I’m forcing you to sleep in them during the winter months.” Jack jerked beneath the covers, keeping his arm around Ivy’s back as he shifted his legs away from her icy feet. “I feel as if I’m cuddling a snowman.”

  “That might say a little something about you,” Ivy said dryly. “Put your legs back. I’m cold.”

  “You’re cold because you insist on sleeping with your feet poking out from underneath the covers,” Jack argued. “Why?”

  “Why what?” Ivy was distracted by Jack’s bare chest. Since she couldn’t twine her legs with his she busied herself rubbing her fingers over his supple muscles.

  “Why do you insist on sleeping with your feet uncovered?” Jack cast a glance at Ivy’s hand but didn’t admonish her to stop rubbing him. It felt kind of nice and he was mildly curious where she intended on going with her wandering digits. “I don’t get up every night to go to the bathroom, but when I do, I always cover your feet. When I wake up the next morning, they’re uncovered. Why is that?”

  “I think the better question is why do you feel the need to cover my feet even knowing that I’m going to kick off the covers,” Ivy slipped her index finger in Jack’s bellybutton and smiled as he squirmed.

  “That is a good question,” Jack agreed, sliding a sidelong look to Ivy. “You’re very playful this morning. How come?”

  “I don’t know.” Ivy smiled as she rolled on top of Jack, wriggling against him as he slipped his arms around her to make sure she wouldn’t fall off. “It’s Christmas Eve.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the glint in her eyes was enough to make Jack grin.

  “It is Christmas Eve,” Jack agreed, hooking a strand of flyaway pink hair behind her ear. “You seem excited.”

  “It’s our first Christmas together. I am excited.”

  “Good.” Jack kissed the tender spot between her eyebrows. “I’m glad.”

  “Are you excited?” Ivy shyly lowered her eyes as she asked the question.

  “I am massively excited,” Jack answered, cupping her chin. “I have big plans for our first Christmas together. The thing is … we’re going to have a lot of Christmases together. I’m sure of that. I want to start traditions this year, but I want to make sure we have the option of adding to those traditions moving forward.”

  “That sounds nice.” Ivy pressed a kiss to each side of Jack’s mouth, causing his lips to quirk. “What do you have to do today?”

  “I have to go into the office and make sure everything is set with the Norman Fell case,” Jack replied, momentarily sobering. “We promised to get the paperwork over to Traverse City before it gets too late. Then I have a few reports to finish up – although it’s not very much work – and then I’m all yours for Christmas unless something crazy happens.”

  “Let’s hope I’m the only crazy one this Christmas,” Ivy teased, rolling back so she sat on Jack’s midriff, his fingers sliding around her ankles as she returned to rubbing her digits over his chest. They’d been caught up in each other upon returning to the house the previous night, talking and laughing far into the night. They did other things, too, but the intimacy of talking seemed to have them glued to one another despite the fact that they were losing the morning.

  “When I was in Detroit, I used to hope for a big murder or drug bust on Christmas.” Jack had no idea why he was admitting to such a thing but being comfortable with Ivy allowed him to open up. “I love my mother and sister, but the idea of sitting still for a holiday seemed somehow … boring.”

  “And now?”

  “Oh, honey, the idea of absolutely nothing going wrong and being able to sit with you next to the fireplace for twenty-four hours straight sounds positively heavenly.”

  Ivy snorted, catching Jack off guard. “You just jinxed us. You know that, right?”

  “We’ve had enough bad luck over the past week,” Jack chided, pressing the palm of his hand against the sole of her foot and smiling. They were the same size. “What are you going to do today?”

  “Well, I’m actually mildly behind with wrapping gifts,” Ivy admitted. “I got a little distracted.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s to be expected.”

  “Did you wrap all of your gifts?” Ivy asked it in an innocent manner, but Jack knew exactly what she was digging for. He refused to put her out of her misery until at least tonight. He had no idea when he was going to propose – he wanted to let the moment guide him – but he knew it would be soon. That didn’t mean he wanted Ivy to know that. She would turn into a fidgety monster if he let it slip.

  “All my gifts are wrapped,” Jack confirmed, holding his mouth steady when he saw the disappointment flash in her eyes. “Everything is ready to slip under the tree. Brian’s wife did most of the wrapping for me – I guess it’s a woman thing �
� and I will bring everything back with me this afternoon.”

  “Oh, well, that sounds good.” Ivy did her best to put on a brave face. Jack was close to losing it and letting out a laugh, but he managed to hold it together … barely. “I’m glad you had help.”

  “Me, too.” Jack moved his fingers to Ivy’s calf. “Is that all you have today? Wrapping gifts.”

  “Um … oh, not quite.” Ivy snapped back to reality. “I’m going to take some gifts over to Mary Jackson, too.”

  Jack stilled, tilting his head to the side as he debated whether or not he heard Ivy correctly. “I’m sorry but … what did you say?”

  Ivy recognized the shift in Jack’s tone, but she was in no mood to argue. “Don’t make a thing out of it.”

  “Honey, I’m trying really hard not to make a thing out of it,” Jack said. “It’s just … why are you visiting Mary Jackson?”

  “Because last night you and I rolled around in the snow together and we didn’t care who was talking about us … or pointing … or laughing.”

  “I don’t understand.” Jack moved his fingers to her chin, keeping them in place even when she fought the effort. “I want to, though, so tell me.”

  “Last night I realized that I’m happier than I ever thought possible,” Ivy explained. “I never knew it was possible to be this happy. I am, though. I’m so excited about Christmas I feel as if I’m ten years old again and my father has hinted that maybe – just maybe – Santa is going to get me a tree house.”

  Jack pursed his lips. He could practically see a younger Ivy bouncing on the balls of her feet as she readied herself to search for a tree house. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m excited, too.”

  “I know. That only adds to my excitement.”

  “But?”

  “But Mary Jackson is facing her first Christmas without her husband,” Ivy replied. “She has two kids and no money. She has no way to pay for Christmas for them. She has to come up with the money to pay for a funeral out of the blue – and those are expensive. I just want to help.”

  “Oh.” Things clicked into place for Jack. “You’re going to buy gifts for her and the kids and drop them off.”

  “Essentially,” Ivy hedged. “I don’t know what to get the kids – or even what age they are – but I figured I could get a few things at Target and fill out the rest of it with gift cards. I don’t plan on bothering her. I just … my conscience won’t let me forget the man who I touched as he died.”

  “And that’s why I love you.” Jack lurched to a sitting position, keeping his arms around Ivy’s waist as he gave her a long hug. “I’m not thrilled about you leaving town for the day, but I understand why you have to do it. Please text so I know where you’re at, though.”

  Ivy brightened considerably when she realized Jack wasn’t going to put up a fight. “Really? No passive aggressive moping or anything?”

  “I’m not passive aggressive.”

  “You are sometimes.” Ivy gripped his hair tightly and forced his head into the position she wanted so she could more easily kiss him. “I won’t be gone long. I’m going to run to that Target on the far side of Traverse City, grab a few things, shove them in gift bags because there’s no time to wrap, and then I’ll be back over here by lunch.”

  Jack pursed his lips. “Do you promise?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.” He smacked a hard kiss against her lips. “Text me and things will be fine. I shouldn’t have to work much past lunch either. I’ll be done by two at the latest.”

  “We have dinner with my parents, Aunt Felicity, and Max tonight.”

  “I remember.”

  “You should probably call your mother and sister, too,” Ivy prodded. Jack’s mother and sister visited a month before, and although his mother wanted Jack to visit for Christmas, she understood when he declined and suggested she visit for Easter instead. Their relationship was a work in progress and Ivy didn’t want to pressure Jack, but she also refused to let him ignore his mother during the holiday season.

  “That’s the plan.” Jack splayed his fingers over Ivy’s back and pressed her closer. “Then, tomorrow, it’s just you and me all day. Your brother is going skiing and your aunt is spending the day with your mother. That leaves you and me with nothing to do but each other.”

  Ivy giggled. “Ooh. Smooth talker.”

  “I just want a full day of you,” Jack said. “I don’t care how smooth it is.”

  “I think that’s what we both want.”

  This time the kiss Jack and Ivy shared was soft and sensual, a promise of fun and flirting to come later in the day. When they separated, Ivy pointed toward the bathroom.

  “We need to get going. We both have a lot to do today if we expect to enjoy tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You didn’t say that with much enthusiasm.”

  Jack plastered a cheesy grin on his face and raised his voice to comical proportions. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Ivy chuckled, adoration washing over her. “Now that was much better.”

  “WHAT’S THIS?”

  Jack eyed the plate Ivy pushed in his direction with overt suspicion as he sat at the kitchen table an hour later.

  “What do you think it is?” Ivy challenged, arching an eyebrow.

  “It looks like … pancakes.”

  “Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner.” Ivy rolled her eyes. “If they ever have a game show about identifying breakfast foods I think you could clean up.”

  “Ha, ha,” Jack intoned, his eyes flashing. “No one needs the sarcasm.”

  “I thought you loved me just as I am.”

  “I do. That doesn’t mean the sarcasm is always welcome.” Jack poked his pancakes with a fork. “Honey, I love you. You know that, right?”

  Ivy didn’t answer, instead crossing her arms over her chest and waiting.

  “I’m afraid to eat these,” Jack admitted after a beat. “What are the brown chunks? Are those mushrooms? Did you freeze morels and slip them in my pancakes to torture me?”

  It took Ivy a moment to realize what Jack was insinuating. “Do you honestly think I would do that?”

  “I … not if it’s going to get me in trouble on Christmas Eve.” Jack changed tactics mid-sentence. “I’ll eat the feet mushrooms.” He shoveled a forkful of pancakes into his mouth without adding butter or syrup.

  Ivy watched, amused, as he methodically chewed and swallowed. He looked surprised when he finished.

  “Those aren’t mushrooms.”

  “No,” Ivy agreed. “They’re over-sized chocolate chips.”

  “Huh.” Jack looked caught. “I’m really sorry, honey. I thought you were going to torture me with mushrooms for your ring. The pancakes are delicious.”

  “If I had frozen morels I could get at, I would totally torture you,” Ivy teased. “I don’t, though. Besides … I just want to have a good two days. I’m not going to poison your food to get what I want.”

  “Good.” Jack squeezed her hand before flicking his attention to the television, the stern-looking weather forecaster catching his attention. “What is she saying?”

  “Storm.” Ivy looked almost happy at the prospect as her mouth tipped up at the corners. It’s supposed to hit around eight o’clock tonight and last through the bulk of the day tomorrow.”

  Jack brightened at the possibility. “That will allow us to spend a few hours with your parents and then we’ll be snowed in tomorrow.”

  “Exactly.”

  Jack chuckled. “It seems we’re getting the Christmas we want, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Ivy sucked in a breath as she pushed the idea of adding an engagement ring to the day. She’d come to the conclusion that wouldn’t happen until New Year’s Eve now. She had to live with that. “So, I am also going to run to the grocery store when I’m done at Mary Jackson’s house. If you have any requests, you’d better get them in now. The grocery store closes at six and doesn’t open again until the day afte
r Christmas.”

  “That’s another thing that’s different about the country,” Jack noted, rolling his neck. “You’re going to get the basics like eggs and bread, right?”

  Ivy nodded. “I will get all the basics and make sure we have coffee, tea, and juice. I will grab bacon for your breakfast and any snacks that look good. I want to make sure I have everything you like for dinner tomorrow, though. I’m cooking a small chicken for you and a bunch of vegetables for us to share.”

  “You don’t have to cook a chicken for me. The vegetables are fine.”

  “Not for Christmas,” Ivy argued. “I already have the menu planned. I need you to tell me if you want something special, though.”

  “Just you.” Jack snagged the front of Ivy’s shirt and pulled her forward for a kiss. “You be careful on the roads while you’re out.”

  “It’s not supposed to start storming until after eight.”

  “Be careful all the same. You’re my Christmas gift. I want to be able to unwrap you all day tomorrow.”

  “Now that sounds like a plan.”

  Twenty

  Ivy went overboard when buying gifts. That was her way so she didn’t think much about it as she yanked everything out of the trunk of her car and carried it up Mary Jackson’s driveway.

  She found the woman’s address via a simple Google search. She assumed Mary would be at home – and if she wasn’t, Ivy would simply leave the gifts on the front porch for a happy surprise – but she found two vehicles in the driveway when she parked. That meant Mary probably had company.

  Of course she had company, Ivy chided herself. She was mourning. Family members probably arrived to bolster her spirits as soon as they heard about Dorian’s death. They were probably working overtime to salvage Christmas for the Jackson kids, too.

  “I’m so stupid,” Ivy muttered under her breath as she knocked on the door. Even though she felt like a moron she was determined to deliver the gifts and then make her escape. The weather forecaster said the storm was still hours away, but Ivy could practically smell it on the wind.

 

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