Page 12

Chapter Twelve

C ole

The festival’s winding down, but the air’s still buzzing with that holiday energy, the glow of lights casting a warm haze over the snow-dusted square. I shove my hands into my coat pockets, scanning the crowd for her. Ivy. I’d give anything to make her laugh tonight, to hear that sound that’s been stuck in my head since the first time I heard it. It took Knox and Pope smacking me upside the head with reality to realize how deep I’m in with her, and now I’m just hoping I’m not too late.

Then I spot her, standing by the big Christmas tree, her face lifted up to the lights like she’s drinking them in. She looks…magical, for lack of a better word. She’s bundled up in that red coat of hers, a soft red scarf wrapped around her neck, and her cheeks are flushed from the cold—or maybe from the sheer joy she can’t seem to keep hidden. I feel my pulse kick up a notch, just watching her.

I make my way over, steady and slow, like I’ve got all the time in the world, though every nerve in my body’s telling me to hurry. When I’m close enough, I clear my throat, and she turns, her eyes widening a fraction when she sees me.

“Cole.” She smiles, but there’s a hint of surprise in her voice. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Figured I’d make an appearance,” I say, keeping my tone light, though I know this isn’t the time for jokes. “Can’t let you be the only one bringing Christmas cheer to Copper Mountain.”

She lets out a soft laugh, but I see the hesitation in her eyes, a flicker of something guarded. It twists something in my chest, knowing I’m the one who put that there, put that doubt in her when she deserves anything but.

I step closer, holding her gaze, and for once, I don’t try to mask what I’m feeling. “Ivy, I need to tell you something.”

She nods, her eyes searching mine, waiting. There’s a vulnerability there, something she’s trying hard to keep under control, and I feel a surge of determination. I’m not letting her doubt me. Not tonight.

“You’ve…done something to this town,” I say, my voice low, almost rough. “And to me. All that Christmas cheer you brought in, all those ridiculous decorations and contests—it’s not just for show, is it?”

She blinks, a hint of confusion flickering across her face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” I take a breath, stepping even closer until there’s barely any space left between us. “I thought I didn’t need anyone. Thought I’d gotten too comfortable on that mountain, living by myself, no one to answer to. But you came along with your damn Christmas spirit and shook everything up.”

Her lips part, her breath catching, and I reach out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, letting my fingers linger. “You’re exactly what this town needed, Ivy. Exactly what I needed.”

She stares up at me, and I can see the effect my words have on her, the way her cheeks flush, her eyes brightening as she processes what I’m saying. “Cole…”

I take her hand, squeezing it gently, grounding myself in the feel of her warmth. “You made me realize I’ve been missing something. A spark I thought I’d buried a long time ago. You brought it back, Ivy. And I didn’t even know I needed it.”

For a moment, we just stand there, the snow starting to fall around us, soft flakes catching in her hair. She’s looking at me like I’ve just handed her the moon, and damn, if that doesn’t make me want to give her everything.

“You don’t have to be so serious about it,” she teases softly, though her voice wavers slightly. “It’s just a bit of Christmas spirit.”

I smile, letting out a rough laugh. “Maybe for you. For me…it’s a lot more than that.”

Her gaze softens, and I can see the warmth there, the trust she’s slowly letting back in. She takes a step closer, her hand slipping up to my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my flannel coat. “I’m glad, Cole. I was starting to wonder if I’d pushed you too hard. Maybe pushed you away.”

I shake my head, catching her hand and bringing it to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I’m glad you did. I needed it.”

She swallows, her breath a little shaky as she stares up at me. The lights from the tree cast a warm glow around us, the snow falling softly, and I can’t hold back anymore. Not when she’s looking at me like that, like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.

“Come here,” I murmur, pulling her closer, my hands settling on her waist. I can feel her pulse under my fingers, the warmth of her body pressing against mine, and it’s like every wall I’ve ever built crumbles in that moment.

I tilt her chin up, watching her eyes flutter closed, and then I close the distance, my lips finding hers in a kiss that’s been building between us for far too long. She responds immediately, her arms wrapping around my neck, her body pressing into mine like she’s been thinking about this just as much as I have. The kiss is slow, unhurried, but there’s a heat simmering beneath the surface, a hunger that neither of us is trying to hide.

Her fingers slide into my hair, tugging slightly, and it sends a surge of need through me, my hands tightening on her waist, pulling her even closer. She tastes like warmth, like Christmas and cinnamon, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything this right in my life.

When we finally pull back, we’re both breathing hard, the cold air mixing with the heat between us, our breaths visible in the night air. She stares up at me, her eyes dark and a little dazed, her lips swollen from the kiss.

“Cole,” she whispers, her voice barely more than a breath. “I…I thought you’d never come around.”

“Well, here I am.” I press another soft kiss to her forehead, feeling a sense of peace settle over me. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes light up, and she leans into me, resting her head against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, and we stand there in the quiet, under the falling snow, with the sounds of the festival in the background. It’s like everything else fades away, leaving just us, and for once, I don’t feel the need to keep my guard up. I don’t feel the need to hold back.

“Do you think Copper Mountain will get tired of my Christmas cheer?” she murmurs, a smile in her voice.

“Not a chance.” I chuckle, running my fingers through her hair. “They might pretend to grumble, but they love it. Just like I do.”

She lifts her head, her eyes sparkling. “You love my Christmas cheer?”

I grin, brushing a thumb over her lips. “I love everything about you, Ivy. Even if it’s taken me a while to admit it.”

She smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes the whole damn world feel brighter. And as we stand there, wrapped up in each other, I realize that maybe Christmas isn’t so bad after all—especially if I get to spend it with her.

“Come on,” I say, taking her hand and leading her through the snow. “Let’s walk for a bit.”

She nods, her fingers laced with mine, and we stroll through the town square, past the Christmas lights and decorations that she’s worked so hard to put up. She leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder, and for the first time in a long time, I feel…at peace.

“Thank you, Ivy,” I murmur, squeezing her hand. “For bringing all this…bringing me back to life.”

She looks up, her eyes shining with something warm and unspoken. “I think you did most of that on your own, Cole. I just helped you remember what was already there.”

I pull her closer, feeling the truth of her words settle over me. Maybe she’s right. Maybe she just reminded me of the parts of myself I’d forgotten. But I know one thing for certain—I don’t want to forget again. And as we stand there, watching the snow fall under the glow of the Christmas lights, I realize that Ivy’s not just a part of my life now. She’s become the best part.