I chuckle. “That could work.”
“Well, I’m on my way to pick up some books. For Christmas. Or rather, for other people’s Christmas. I’ve got deliveries. Oh my goodness, I just was here because—well, oh, I don’t know how to say anything without ruining this whole thing.” Her arms wave about, and then she brings them to a prayer position, pointing them toward me. “I’m going to stop there. But Jace, it was lovely to see you. I can’t wait for you to step inside and for me to hear about . . . nope, enough, Grey.” She’s talking to herself now, looking at her shoes. “I’m going to stop there about that.”
With a full smile, she looks up at me then turns to walk away. She pivots back within a few steps. “I just want to tell you, Jace, that I’m really grateful you’ve made Ivy so happy. She hasn’t been the same since she met you—or rather, since she thought she lost a chance with you. I’m just really glad you two can try now. Love isn’t always guaranteed, and it requires bravery.” She pauses, and her face brightens. “Ivy’s my best friend. So, I just want you to know, while I know you have your own friends and family, you can stop by my bookshop anytime to see my dad and me. You’ll always be welcome.”
I clear my throat, knowing it had cost the shy woman something to say these things to me. But I’m grateful. “Thankyou, Grey. And thanks for looking out for her all these years. I promise I won’t ever let her slip through my hands again.”
Grey tilts her head and smiles even wider. “Go get her, then.” Her thumb hitches toward the studio, and I roll my shoulders back.
“Merry Christmas, Grey,” I say to her, my hand already on the doorknob and twisting it open.
She walks away toward her bookstore, her arms swinging, humming a Christmas carol as flurries start to fill the air.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly push open the door and then forget to exhale. The studio is covered in what looks like snow. Dark fabric has even been draped along the back, covering the practice areas and the office. The studio looks like a winter wonderland under the night sky.
Even the boxing ring has been covered with Christmas lights, each strand wrapped around the ring ropes, with LED candles lining the canvas. And then I see Ivy, standing uncharacteristically barefoot in the middle of the ring, clothed in a dress that hugs her curves, her hair tied back with a ribbon. She holds out her hand as I walk toward her. I dodge paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, reminding myself to keep inhaling and exhaling so I don’t pass out.
Ducking, I slide off my wet boots, weave through the ropes, and step onto the mat in my socked feet. My breathless voice breaks the silence first. “Ivy, if you told me that you’re an actual angel, I’d believe you, wholeheartedly.” When I finally grasp her hand, I don’t drop it. Instead, I lift her fingers still clasped in mine and wrap my hands around her gorgeous face, leaning over her and pressing a kiss to her lips. In response, Ivy hums and leans back, placing one of her hands over my heart and sliding the other around the back of my neck.
“It’s beating for you,” I confess, knowing she can feel my heartbeat pulsing rapidly in the place she’s making contact.
She responds with a smile. “Are you liking your Christmas surprise so far?”
I look about the space again and let out a disbelieving laugh. “It looks like something out of a movie or a book.”
“That checks out since Grey helped me,” Ivy practically sings. “Did you have a good morning?”
“I did.”
“Emmy was excited?”
“She was.” Ivy’s knowing grin pulls me in. Closing the distance between us, my eyes rove over her angelic face. “And now I’m happy to be here with you.”
With another smile, she releases her hold to step away to grab a blanket from a basket sitting in the corner. She spreads it across the canvas floor.
“Does this mean you’re taking up boxing?” I ask with a teasing lilt to my voice, crossing my arms over my chest to restrain my affection.
She just laughs and shakes her head with a smile. “Not yet,” she replies with a laugh and a shake of her head. When she bites the edge of her lip, I find it irresistible. Something about watching Ivy move around the ring where I train students to box pulls on my emotions. I’m a boxer, and she’s a ballerina. I dance around the ring; she dances across the stage. And if we can find a way to dance together for the rest of our days, I’ll be happy.
“Stay with me?” The assurance and peace in her smoky voice cling to me.
“Always.” Her eyes widen as she smiles, not realizing yet that I am completely serious.
Ivy shuffles around, leaning over the edge to pull things from behind and around the ring, and then we settle in next to each other on the blanket. I watch her in amusement as she reaches for things around us, clearly having a plan in motion.
“Not that I don’t love everything that’s happening right now, but what are we doing here exactly?”
“You’ll see!”
I lie back on the blanket, stuffing a second blanket that’s been thrown this way beneath my head. Christmas music fills the air, the arrangement featuring the deep, moving tones of a cello. I close my eyes and take it all in. I have so much to appreciate in this moment: Ivy’s signature scent, the way she’s made the studio space cozier than a blanket fort, not to mention the way Ivy is not only showing me how much she cares but also making memories we’ll get to hold on to for many years to come.
Because I believe we’ll have many years ahead of us, I’ll do my best to make sure that happens.
“Nearly done!” More blankets and what I think is a pillow land near my legs. “Okay,” I hear her say to herself. “I think we’re ready.”
I open my eyes slightly and catch the way she’s pulling a sweatshirt over her head. Not just any sweatshirt. My sweatshirt. Something primal in me unlocks at the sight of her wearing something that has also touched my skin. “Where did you get that, Starlight?”
She doesn’t reply at first. Instead, she leans back and snuggles against me, her head on my chest and her hair brushing my face. Her shoulders shake with silent laughter. “I may have stolen it?”
