A breathy whimper sounded in her throat as Ivy’s hand moved up the back of his neck. Her fingers ventured into his hair, causing another thrill to sprout low in his core.
Easton wasn’t sure where their rendezvous would lead in the days ahead, but as he enjoyed the silky heat of Ivy’s mouth, and the seductive sound of her sigh, he assured himself that he wouldn’t take it further than this—her kiss.
That suited him just fine. As long as she’d have him, even if it was the whole night through, Easton would attend to her with his kisses, his touch, and the warmth of his body beside hers. Tomorrow would bring what it may, but for now, he’d enjoy tonight with the fascinating Ivy Ingles in his arms.
Chapter 10
If Ivy thought sleeping before a crackling fire was nice, kissing in the warmth of those glowing flames was sheer bliss.
Easton might not believe in love, but that hadn’t stopped him from mastering the art of kissing. Mastering it to the point he hadn’t pushed for anything more. And why push when their moments of passion were already perfect?
It was as if he knew that the sensation of his lips on hers would offer more romance, wonderment, and delight than she’d known in a very long time.
She’d carried those moments into a sound and satisfied sleep, ever aware that she might very well spend Christmas Day with Easton, right there on a mountain range in snow-covered Colorado.
Even now as she prepared the table for a very non-traditional breakfast on Christmas morning—stale cinnamon rolls, moonshine peaches, and beef jerky—a blend of contentment and peace settled over her.
She glanced at the door, wondering how much longer Easton would be gone. Earlier that morning, he’d laced a pair of snowshoes and headed for the lodge with his cell phone. Once he was able to get service, he planned to text his sister with an update and check on the latest weather forecast. If the whistling wind pushing against the structure was any indication, the blizzard wasn’t done with them yet.
When she’d first arrived at the yurt two days ago, Ivy wanted nothing more than to catch the next flight out. But now, as she waited for the heroic Easton to burst back through that door with news of the storm and road conditions, she secretly hoped they’d be snowed in for another day.
Just admitting the fact caused a spurt of fear to shoot through her. Things between them had been going so well, a part of her feared she’d only spoil it. It was that insecure side of her piping up again. The side that said she wasn’t fascinating enough to keep a man interested long-term. The side that said it’d be best to end things while she was ahead. At least then she could enjoy the moments they’d shared. If she stayed and things ended in some form of rejection, those memories might be ruined.
At that thought, the door flung open. That wind she’d been hearing roared full force.
Ivy glanced up, expecting to see Easton’s massive form filling the doorway. He was there all right, but he was dragging something close to his own size along with him. Something with a powder covered trunk and frost-covered branches.
No way. He’d gotten a tree? The sentiment caused a pool of tingly heat to ripple through her body. She hurried over and pushed the door closed behind him with a grunt, then twisted the knob as he’d instructed to lock it in place.
Already, the delectably spicy scent of pine filled the space, making it feel exactly like Christmas Day.
“Ho, ho, ho,” Easton cheered, giving the tree a quick shake. Snow fell from the branches, turning the pine needles from frosted white to a rich, forest green.
“This is beautiful,” she said, watching as he hoisted the tree enough to lower the trunk into a small log structure on the floor. He must have fashioned it before leaving, she realized.
“Well,” he said. “I figured, if the roads and airports were still closed, I’d saw down a tree on my way back.”
Ivy loved the way he’d said it. As if sawing down a pine tree and dragging it through a blizzard was no big deal. She also liked that, to Easton, it really wasn’t. The buff and manly traits in him made Easton all the more attractive. But something new was taking precedence in her mind—the roads and airports were still closed.
“So we’ll be here another night probably?” she confirmed.
Easton gave her a nod. “Definitely through the night. But they think there’s going to be a nice break in the storm tomorrow. Enough that they can get the canyon roads open again, and probably the flights moving as well.” He stepped away from the tree once it was balanced within the makeshift stand and moved to her side with his chest puffed. “Well, what do you think?”
The gorgeous tree with its heavenly scent made her smile. Her heart warmed and swelled with gratitude. “I really love it,” she breathed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He tugged a backpack from his shoulder and unzipped the side. “I stopped by one of the other yurts on my way back and grabbed this, in case you wanted to decorate it somehow.” He tugged a rather large Ziplock bag from his bag and handed it to her.
Ivy inspected the pack through the clear bag, realizing it held an array of craft supplies. Balls of colorful yarn were shoved at the base of the bag, while popsicle sticks, scissors, and glue sat on top.
The inspiration and childlike joy that came over her made her smile grow even more. “We can definitely make some cool decorations from this.”
“I figured as much.” Easton returned her smile with a gorgeous grin of his own, then tipped his head to shake the snow from his hair with his fingers.
“You might want to turn your back for a minute so I can change,” he said, moving quickly to where his clothes from the day before hung dry. At once he was unfastening his jeans.
“Oh,” Ivy blurted, turning so that her back faced him. She traced a finger along the edge of the bag while she waited for him to get changed. She could hardly believe this was the same guy who’d made the snide remarks about her having an in with Mother Earth. And the same guy who’d actually said, back on the phone when she’d called to confirm, he’d find a way to keep her warm at night on the chance they got snowed in.
Ivy hadn’t thought for a second that would ever happen, yet here they were. Another one of his comments came to mind, this one from the interview. “So,” she started, a wry chuckle forming at her lips. “For Christmas dinner, are we going to cook up your latest kill?” she asked.
“Heh, if only it were that easy to hunt in a blizzard. The wildlife has ducked for cover. But I did get a little something special from the other yurt. You can turn around now, by the way,” he said, coming up behind her and securing the backpack once more. He pulled two cans from the bag, cans she recognized as clam chowder. He removed a third that Ivy couldn’t identify without leaning closer.
“Are those peaches?”
“Moonshine-free peaches,” he stipulated. “Can’t have Ivy The Lightweight taking down any more of those spiked ones, can we?”
“I guess it’s best if I avoid them,” she admitted.
“At least until tonight,” Easton added. The insinuative tone coating those words caused an untamed thrill to shoot through her chest.
Ivy chuckled, but inwardly, she was thinking back on something else Easton had said about the storm. It would likely break tomorrow, allowing him to go to his place and Ivy to hers.