Celeste felt like she was burning from the inside out, every touch from Ivy stoking the flames higher. Their movements grew more desperate, more urgent as they chased their shared pleasure, and the forest seemed to pulse in time with them.
They pressed their bodies against each other, still plunging their fingers in each other, and captured each other’s lips. Celeste slipped her tongue in Ivy’s mouth, exploring all the crevices of it and playing with Ivy’s tongue. Their kisses grew more fervent as their pace quickened, and Celeste could feel her thighs shake, a sure sign that she was close to the edge. Shedidn’t give in, though, instead riding out the pleasure as long as she could as Ivy’s expert fingers kept alternating between finding that spot inside her and caressing over her clit. Celeste gripped the tree with her spare hand, bracing herself as the pleasure crescendoed.
When the wave finally crested, Celeste buried her face in Ivy’s neck to muffle her cry. Ivy’s orgasm followed moments later as she trembled in Celeste’s arms while they held each other through the aftershocks. For several long moments, they stayed like that, catching their breath as their bodies pressed against each other.
As their breathing slowed, Celeste became aware again of the frigid air, the rough bark against her back, and the wetness of melted snow in her hair. But none of that mattered compared to the way Ivy was looking at her now—tender and satisfied, with a hint of soft vulnerability that made Celeste’s icy heart melt.
Ivy leaned in and kissed her softly, so different from their earlier passionate heat, but no less meaningful. When they parted, she rested her forehead against Celeste’s, a small playing in the corners of her lips.
“We should probably head back,” Ivy whispered, though she made no move to step away.
Celeste nodded but pulled Ivy back in for one more lingering kiss before they began adjusting their disheveled clothes. As they walked hand in hand through the snowy forest, Celeste knew that everything had changed between them—and she wasn’t as scared to explore this as before.
6
IVY
The bakery was alive with the warmth of a busy morning. The bell above the door jingled constantly, signaling the endless stream of customers. The scent of baked bread and buttery scones filled the cozy space, mixing with the sweet, sharp aroma of cinnamon and sugar from the morning’s batch of pastries. Regulars chatted at the tables, laughing and sharing stories over steaming cups of coffee and flaky pastries. It was the kind of morning that Ivy loved—a blur of movement and familiar faces, a sense of community that made the bakery feel more like a home than a business.
Her hands worked quickly, sliding steaming coffee mugs across the counter, exchanging warm smiles with customers as she moved back and forth between the register and ovens. But even with the flurry of activity, Ivy’s mind wasn’t fully on the bakery today. Every now and then, her gaze drifted to the corner of the room where Celeste sat, nursing her own mug of coffee.
Celeste, in her perfectly tailored suit, looked like she had wandered into the wrong world entirely. Her polished appearance seemed at odds with the rustic charm of the bakery—the exposed brick walls, the wooden beams overhead, and thehandmade ceramic mugs lining the shelves. Ivy couldn’t help but feel amused and intrigued by the contrast. Celeste stood out, yet at the same time, in her own way, she fit in. There was something about the way she sat, quietly observing the morning rush, that made her seem oddly at home here, even if she didn’t quite belong.
Ivy shook her head slightly as she wiped down the counter. Celeste had been spending more time at the bakery lately, showing up early in the mornings before her meetings or swinging by in the afternoons when things were quieter. It had become part of their unspoken routine—Celeste arriving just after the morning rush, her eyes scanning the space until they found Ivy. Sometimes they talked; other times she just sat there, watching the rhythm of Ivy’s day unfold.
But today, Ivy couldn’t shake the nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface. The more time she spent with Celeste, the more complicated her feelings became. Celeste was a force of nature—confident, successful, and maddeningly attractive. But there was also something vulnerable beneath her polished exterior, something that made Ivy want to get closer, even though her mind screamed at her to keep her distance.
The problem was that Ivy didn’t know if she could trust her. She couldn’t forget the reason Celeste had come to Hollyridge in the first place—to tear down her beloved bakery to build a resort. Ivy’s bakery was small, but it washers, and she couldn’t let her feelings for Celeste blind her to the reality of the situation. What if all this was just temporary? What if Celeste was still planning to tear down everything Ivy had built?
As Ivy handed a steaming mug of coffee to Mrs. Gilmore, who was prattling on about the Christmas festival, she stole a glance at Celeste. This woman—this maddeningly beautiful woman—was turning her world upside down.
And she didn’t know what to do about it.
The Christmas festival was in full swing by the time Ivy made her way through the crowded town square. Lights twinkled from every corner, casting a warm glow over the snow-covered streets. People bundled in scarves and hats milled about, sipping hot cocoa, laughing, and admiring the stalls selling homemade crafts and festive treats. Ivy could hear the faint sound of Christmas carols in the distance, the familiar melodies blending with the happy chatter of the crowd.
Ellie was skipping ahead, her face flushed with excitement as she pointed out the decorations and tugged Ivy toward the booth where they sold her favorite homemade peppermint fudge. Ivy followed, a smile tugging at her lips despite the turmoil in her heart.
She spotted Celeste standing by one of the booths deep in conversation with the mayor. Even in the chaos of the festival, Celeste looked composed, her long, tailored coat and scarf making her stand out in the crowd. But when their eyes met, Celeste smiled—a real, genuine smile that sent a flutter through Ivy’s chest.
For a moment, Ivy considered turning around and walking away. It’d be easier to avoid Celeste tonight, to lose herself in the holiday cheer and pretend her feelings weren’t as complicated as they actually were. But before she could make her escape, Celeste was beside her, her hand brushing lightly against Ivy’s arm as she spoke.
“Enjoying the festival?” Celeste’s voice was soft, but it carried over the noise of the crowd, grounding Ivy in the moment.
“It’s beautiful,” Ivy replied, her voice catching slightly. “Ellie loves it.”
They fell in step together, weaving through the throng of people. The air was crisp and cold, but the warmth from Celeste’s presence made Ivy’s cheeks flush. They didn’t talk much, just walked, soaking in the atmosphere, their shoulders occasionally brushing against each other in the crowded streets.
As they passed one of the larger trees decorated with twinkling lights and ribbons, Ivy noticed something hanging above them—mistletoe. A small, green sprig tied with a red bow dangling innocently between them.
She stopped, her heart pounding in her chest.
Celeste followed her gaze, her eyes softening as she realized what Ivy had seen. There was a brief moment of hesitation, a pause where they both stood still, caught in the festive magic of the evening.
Then, without a word, Celeste stepped closer, her hand finding Ivy’s. She lifted her gaze, meeting Ivy’s eyes with a quiet intensity that made the rest of the world blur into the background.
Ivy’s breath hitched as Celeste’s thumb brushed across her knuckles, a simple touch that sent warmth spreading through her body. She felt herself swaying closer, her heart racing as the space between them disappeared.
When their lips met, it wasn’t a hesitant kiss like before. This one was filled with all the pent-up emotion, the longing that had been building between them for weeks. It was soft but urgent, a silent conversation in the cold December air, speaking all the words neither of them had been able to say.
