My uncle Henry pipes in. “So tell us, Ivy. Will you be returning to Chicago after the holidays?”
His question hits me like an upper cut to the jaw. My body grows tense, wondering what will happen to me if Ivy leaves. It’s like a gift that’s been given to me, only to be taken away again.
Ivy gives me a side-long glance, perhaps thinking the same thing, and then answers noncommittally.
“Oh, I hadn’t really put much thought into it yet. I guess I first have to wait until after my Jeep gets fixed. Technically, I own the house – once I’m able to unlock it, that is. I don’t have a job to return to, since my ex took that away from me, too. The only things that remain in Chicago for me are a handful of friends. I guess I’ll just have to see how things play out.”
Ivy shoots me a look and suddenly, I’m filled with visions of a future where every Christmas and every holiday is spent with Ivy by my side. A renewed sense of hope blooms in my chest as I consider the possibilities of a full life ahead of me, instead of the emptiness of the past.
I reach for her hand under the table, bringing it to my thigh, stroking over her palm with my thumb. Telling her without words that I want her to stay. Indefinitely.
Uncle Jonas cackles, combing his bristly beard with his fingers and waggling his eyebrows salaciously. “If I were you, Anderson, I’d consider losing that car part you need to fix her car. If you catch my drift.”
Everyone around the table laughs and I shake my head, leaning in to whisper in Ivy’s ear.
“Ignore him. After two martini’s he’s an incorrigible idiot.”
Ivy giggles quietly, turning toward me with a cock of her head. “I might be persuaded to stay longer. No tampering with missing car parts required.”
God, this woman. She’s too incredible for words.
We spend the next several hours after dinner clean-up, opening family gifts around the tree, and sharing stories of past holiday fiascos. Like the one when I was a kid and a raccoon was in uncle Henry’s tree, requiring us to spend hours trying to rustle him out, creating a mess that looked like a war zone in their family room.
And then a comment from Aunt Susan, Jonas’s wife, stops my laughter and brings me falling back to earth, the acute pain of my loss stabbing me in the chest once more.
“Remember that Christmas when Shawna baked everyone loaves of banana bread as gifts, but because she was so tired from her pregnancy, that she didn’t realize she doubled the salt in the recipe?” She hoots with laughter, slapping at her knee like it’s the funniest memory in history. “Oh my God, they tasted horrible!”
No one else laughs, their faces turning white with horror. They stare at me like I’m a fragile glass ornament about to break. Because no one has dared to bring up Shawna’s name with me in conversation since she died.
It’s almost comical the expression that replaces Susan’s smile when she realizes her guffaw.
“Anders, oh honey, I didn’t mean…”
I shake my head, waving my hand dismissively, trying to remain unaffected by her comment. Knowing it was an innocent mistake and not meant to hurt me.
“It’s fine,” I acknowledge, but stand up, ready to bolt if and when the levee breaks inside of me. Maybe my heart is still that fragile ornament. Perhaps Ivy wasn’t the answer to freeing me from my pity-party of one. “But we should probably get going. I’m sure Ivy has had enough of the Knight clan for one day and wants to get into her new home tonight.”
I smile solemnly, reaching for Ivy’s hand who accepts it willingly, but with hesitation and uncertainty in her green eyes.
Earlier today she’d received a message from the property management service that they’d leave her a new set of keys under the mat and she was able to get in at any time.
While it has been a much-needed respite from my troubles to be in Ivy’s presence the past 24-hours, I think I need some space to work through the emotional turbulence that rumbles loudly in my head, messing with my state of peace.
Ivy takes the hint and says her goodbyes to my family, expressing her gratitude for welcoming her into the family gathering. She pays extra attention to my mother, exchanging hugs and promises to get back together soon.
And before we leave, my mother wraps me in a hug and plants a kiss on my cheek before saying, “Don’t lose this girl, Anders. You’ve already lived through love and sorrow before, now you need to mend again. This may be your one last chance at a happy ending.”
Chapter 9
Ivy
I’ve spent the last two days cleaning out my new house and organizing my pantry now stocked full of food. One that thanks to Mary Knight, is well stocked with all the essentials and more. She even shared with me a few of her recipes that I’ve tried hard to replicate.
But no matter how much time and effort I put into these household chores to keep my thoughts otherwise occupied, nothing seems to get Anders out of my head.
Or out of my bruised heart.
It’s funny, actually, because I thought I came to Knight’s Mountain to rid my broken heart of Hayden and reclaim my life after the devastating divorce.
Yet here I am, picking up the shattered pieces that broke apart when Anders dropped me off on Christmas Day evening, after spending an amazing day with him and his family. But since then, he’s turned into the ghost of Christmas past. And that hurts almost more than Hayden divorcing me out of the blue.
I asked Mary about him when she stopped by earlier with the food. Inquired whether Anders was okay. She offered me a pitying smile and said he had been working on my car and several others that were in the shop after a three-car accident on Route 52. I accepted her answer and worked hard at pushing away all the negative thoughts filtering through my brain.
You can never seem to keep a man.
Nobody will ever love you the way you love them.
You get too attached, too soon.
As I reflect on my past relationships, I recount all the times my heart has been broken by the boys and men that I seem to throw myself at and fall hard for, who could never fully love me in return.
I swore after my divorce from Hayden that I was done with that self-sabotaging behavior. Done trying to make a man love me or change myself to be who they wanted me to be.
The promise I made to myself was to love myself completely first and foremost. Not be a doormat for men to walk all over at their whim.
It’s the reason I came to Knight’s Mountain. I needed a place that I could find myself and do some soul-searching and to find out who that woman in the mirror really was and what she wanted to become.
And I fell right in the same trap I always did with Anders. He caught me off guard when I was at my most vulnerable. And because he opened up and shared his own vulnerabilities with me, I felt an instant connection and kindred sense of spirit with him.
I fell right over the cliff for Anderson Knight.
The buzzer on the oven blares noisily indicating the pie I made is ready. The chocolate-pecan pie recipe that Mary gave me to try.
“Oh my word, you smell so good!”
Yes, I have resorted to talking to my fresh-out-of-the-oven pies. That’s how much I miss Anders and how lonely I feel without him here.
But if you could smell how delicious this pie is, you’d be whispering sweet nothings to it, too.
I set the pie on the trivet and inhale the sweet scent of bittersweet chocolate. It reminds me of the hot cocoa I had the other day with Anders while we decorated his house, and the chocolate taste of his kiss that made me dizzy when he made love to me.
I’m shaken from my reverie with a knock on the door. Peering around the corner from the kitchen, I can see it’s Anders’s from the shadowy form through the frost-pained window.
I wipe my hands on the dishtowel and glance down at my appearance. I’m covered in flour and chocolate, and my hair is in a messy bun on top of my head. Shrugging my shoulders, I figure it doesn’t matter because Anders doesn’t want anything from me anymore, so why both
er looking good?
Opening the front door, the first thing I notice in the driveway behind Anders is my Jeep. Sparkling clean and looking better than new.
“Hi,” I greet, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the handle of the door, my body blocking entry to oppose any idea that he’ll be invited inside.
“Hey.”
Well…now that we have those niceties out of the way.
“I see my car is here. Did you get it fixed?”
He nods. “Yeah. The part was express delivered. Runs like new.”
Riiiight. Express. He wants me gone and out of here as fast as possible.
“Great, thanks. I appreciate it.”
Anders, who stands at least a full foot above me, towering over me, bends forward over my head and inhales deeply.
“Did you bake a pie?”
I shrug. “Yes. Your mom’s recipe. I’m trying something new in my life and learning to be self-sufficient. I figure if I can bake a homemade pie, I can do anything…”
Like get over you.
He sniffs again and the corners of his mouth curl upward underneath his beard.
“It smells delicious.” Anders takes a step forward, crowding into me so I have to retreat backward, lifting my chin in defiance at his pushiness.
“Excuse me, but I don’t think you were invited in.”
I try to hold my ground, but he keeps coming, until he’s well into the front entry and I’ve lost the grip on the door handle. I cross my arms insolently. I will not give into this form of bullish masculinity. He can’t just come in here like he owns the place and…
I’m suddenly air bound, my butt lifted toward the ceiling and my front dangling precariously over his shoulder and down his back. I screech in surprise and fume with anger.
“Oh my God, you cave man! Put me down, Anderson Knight!”
I pound my fists against his taut backside and feel the rumble of his laughter through his XL rust colored Carhartt jacket. The scent of pine and the cold of the outdoors clings to him as he carries me into the kitchen where he drops me unceremoniously to my feet.
My face flushes red and hot and I want to be mad at him, but the way he looks at me has me melting like a snowball inside a Florida greenhouse.
“Ivy, let me say this and then I’ll leave if you want me to.”
I cover my chest with my crossed-arms and decide I can at least hear him out. “Fine, go ahead. Say your piece.”
His Adam’s apple bobs under the skin at his throat and worry lines appear on his forehead. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was nervous.
With a swipe of his hand, he removes his cap and holds it in front of him, eyes cast downward to avoid my gaze.
“I used to live a perfect life. One I thought I’d live forever. And it was because of love. The love of a great woman. As you now know, all of that was taken from me in the blink of an eye. I’m not the man I was before. I was happy then. I lived life to its fullest. But when Shawna and my unborn child died, so did I. I shut down and shut off, and buried my feelings down deep.”
It takes everything inside me not to reach out to comfort this man. Show him compassion and a bit of the love he’s been missing. But I remain firm and resolute, avoid touching him for fear I’ll break this spell and ruin this moment.
He swallows thickly, the veins and muscles in his neck cording with tension.
“Then you came barreling into my life this week and it was like the fog lifted. An excavator bulldozing through my heart, unearthing things I haven’t felt for years. You are this bright, white angel appearing out of nowhere. Reminding me what it was like to laugh and love again. And then I remembered how quickly things can be taken away. The idea that you could just vanish from my life, go back to Chicago, had me scared to do this again.”
Anders fiddles with this hat, quietly contemplating his thoughts as I do my best not to jump in his arms and never let him go.
“It hit me while I was working on your car in the shop last night,” he murmurs, almost to himself more than me. But when he tips his eyes to meet mine, I see it all right there. All the gruff exterior has vanished to leave a man who I could see sharing my life with. Being with forever.
“I realized that I had it great the first time around with Shawna. But perhaps the universe was giving me a second lease on life. Maybe by some divine celestial intervention, you were placed in my path to make me whole again. That maybe you were the gift of a second-chance at a new and great love.”
My eyes mist up with unshed tears, my lip begins to tremble as I nod my head in agreement.
“I think so, too, Anders.” I place my palm over his heart, his hand joining on top. “I think our hearts found a way to mend each other, a gift from the universe. And it’s our Christmas miracle.”
The End
Epilogue
Ivy – One Year Later
“Oh my gosh, this is my all-time favorite Christmas movie!”
I’ve been searching through the movie channel for the past five minutes looking for a movie both Anders and I can agree on. Over the past year, I’ve learned a lot about Anderson Knight, and especially all the areas where we definitely disagree.
Like cooking, for example. I love to cook and bake and have been filling in for his mother Mary at her café three days a week so she can have a much-needed break. It’s been so fun getting to know the locals, the extended families, and all the tourists who come through during the high season.
Anders, however, only likes to eat. And eat, he does. He enjoys every home cooked meal I make him, which pleases me more than anything. Well, almost anything. Because usually after dinner, he shows me his gratitude in very sexy ways in bed.
Another area that we’ve struggled with is the great outdoors. Don’t get me wrong, I love living up on Knight’s Mountain and we’ve enjoyed so many great outdoorsy adventures in the past twelve months together. However, I’m not a skier. Like, not at all. And skiing is a huge part of the tourist attraction and business here on the mountain. Uncle Harry owns the family’s ski resort which brings in hordes of skiers every winter.
The last area of contention, if you can even call it that, is our taste in movies. I’m a Hallmark and Turner Classic Movie channel kind of gal, where Anders, when he does sit down for more than ten minutes, only likes war dramas or slap stick comedies.
So I’m curious to know if he’s ever watched Miracle on 34th Street, the Christmas classic. It’s about not having to prove something to yourself or anyone else with tangible evidence, instead, believing in it because it exists in your heart. That’s where miracles reside.
Anders grunts, but squeezes my hip so I’m nestled against him, surrounded by all his masculine goodness.
“I may have watched it when I was a kid, but it wasn’t really my thing. However, if you insist, I will watch it because my beautiful angel likes it. But don’t blame me if I get distracted and my hand finds its way down your pants.”
I snort loudly at his dirty comment and swat his hand away from my crotch. But this doesn’t deter him one bit. In one swift move, he kneels on the floor and tugs my legs apart, exposing my bare legs under my nightgown.
His fingers trail up my calves, over my knees and then he grasps my thighs in his palms, thumbs digging into the flesh there. A moan escapes me as I spread my legs wider, allowing room for him to begin kissing the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh.
Another thing I’ve learned is that Anders makes me insatiable for sex. He’s a giving and generous lover, always eager to find out what turns me on with his mission to make me come. And come. And come.
Like right now, as he hastily slides the panel of my panties over to expose my sensitive flesh, his beard whiskers tickling the juncture between my legs, the tip of his tongue taking a long drag over my clit.
My tummy flutters with anticipation and my hips punch forward as he circles the nub with expert precision. I’m nearly halfway to orgasm when he stops, looks up into my eyes, and says,
/> “You are my Christmas miracle, angel. The best Christmas gift I have ever received. And I will spend my life making you happy if you let me.”
And with a naughty smirk, he goes back to doing just that. Making me very, very happy.
If you enjoyed this holiday book, make sure to check out my other Flirt Club books, including Santa’s Special Delivery (A Sleeping with the Scrooge Short) and Whipped (A Second Helpings Short Story).
About the Author
Sierra Hill is a 2020 RONE Award-Winning author of Game Changer, as well as over 30 novels, including the award-winning college sports series, Courting Love, and the twice award-finalist erotic ménage serial, Reckless – The Smoky Mountain Trio.
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Also by Sierra Hill
Change of Hearts (A College Campus Series)
Game Changer (Book #1)
Change in Strategy (Book #2)
Change of Course (Book #3) Coming January 2021
Courting Love (College Sports)
Full Court Press
The Rebound
Pivot
Fast Break
Jump Shot
Stuck-Up Big Shot (A Cocky Hero Club Novel)
The Physical Series (New Adult Erotic Contemporary)
Physical Touch
More Than Physical
Physical Distraction
Physical Connection
Physical Desires (3 Book Boxset)
Standalones and Short Stories
One More Minute With You
The Reunion
Character Flaws
The Knight Before Christmas: A Mountain Man Holiday Short Story Page 4
