Snowed In For Christmas: A Fun Feel-Good Holiday Romance Novel - Kimberly Krey Page 0,60

the sound of the chopper’s blades grew louder.

Joelle leaned to get a better look. “That is freaking loud. It sounds like it’s…” She gasped. “Right next to us!”

“What?” Taya leaned far over next. Ivy and Jackie did the same as the chopper’s rhythmic beat grew impossibly louder still, until it echoed throughout the cab.

Ivy covered her ears with her hands. The others did the same.

“What’s going on?” Joelle yelled over the noise.

“You’ve got me,” Ivy hollered. That’s when she spotted the chopper for herself. Coming right down to land…to land on the center of the massive flatbed in front of them!

“I wonder if someone’s hurt,” Taya guessed.

“More like in trouble,” Jackie said. “That’s not life flight; that helicopter belongs to the cops.” And there it was, LA County Deputy printed along the side.

The ladies nearly climbed over one another to peek out one corner of the same window, a level of awe filling the space.

It landed completely, right where Ivy had guessed, and then the blades slowed to a stop as the engine shut off.

“This is better than any preshow,” Taya said with a laugh.

Joelle leaned in further still. “Tell me about it.”

Suddenly the helicopter door dropped open, and a man balancing something on his shoulder stepped out.

“Is that a camera?” Jackie hollered.

“Yes,” Ivy realized. “That’s exactly what it is. What are they trying to film?”

The suspense only increased as the man aimed the lens on the open door, its bright attachment creating a spotlight of sorts.

“Watch it be Tom Cruise or something,” Taya said. “And they’re, like, filming a movie.”

“That would be awesome,” Joelle breathed.

“Totally,” Ivy agreed.

Suddenly, a man in what looked like a suit appeared, giving life to Taya’s guess.

“He’s wearing a tux!” Jackie blurted.

Yes, he was. And he filled it out to perfection. Broad shoulders, a tall build, and…and… Ivy leaned in far enough over to bump the glass with her head. Her eyes had to be deceiving her. But as the spotlight lit up the man’s gorgeous face with that chiseled jaw and those deep brooding eyes, she realized that inkling was correct.

“Holy crap,” she breathed.

“What?”

“Who is he?”

“Is that an actor?”

She could feel her sisters’ eyes on her, but Ivy couldn’t take her gaze off the man on the flatbed. The one who was peering right into the limo. Her heart skipped whatever beat it was meant to hit and skittered somewhere high among the clouds.

“No,” she answered, shock freezing her very form in place. “It’s Easton.”

“It’s Easton?” the three yelled in unison.

“Ivy Ingles,” came a voice over the chopper’s speaker—the pilot, she guessed. “Please step out of the limo and join Mr. Sparks on the flatbed.”

A rush of chills rippled up her arms at the sound of his name—a confirmation that it was, in fact, Easton.

“Oh my gosh!” Taya squealed.

“He is gorgeous,” Joelle breathed.

Jackie moved to push open the door. “You better hurry and get out there!”

A great breeze tossed Ivy’s hair as she stepped onto the interstate. The surrounding cars had rolled down their windows. An old couple in a convertible two lanes over gave her a wave.

Ivy flattened a hand over her gown; its fabric, caught between silver and white, looked like diamonds in the light. She spun to face the open door where her sisters watched with wide eyes. “How’s my hair? And my dress?”

Her heart thundered heavy within her chest.

“Perfect,” Taya and Jackie said at the same time.

Joelle nodded. “They’re right. You look incredible. This is your night, Cinderella. Go get your prince!”

Ivy bit her lip and spun back around. She knew Easton would be waiting for her there, but the knowledge hadn’t prepared her for the sight as he met her gaze. The tux made him look like he’d just stepped off the red carpet. He stood, tall and heroic on the edge of the flatbed, hand extended, eyes fixed right on her.

“Hi,” he mouthed as she walked toward him.

“Hi,” Ivy mouthed back, careful not to catch her gown on her heels. She reached up, placed her hand in his, and reveled in the wave of warmth and relief that rushed through her at his firm grip.

“Put your foot on the towing hitch there,” he instructed with a nod.

She fisted her gown, lifted her foot, and balanced the flat part of her heel on the bar. Yet as Ivy moved to lift her other foot, her gown found its limits.

“I’m pretty sure my dress is going to rip if I move,” she said through a nervous laugh.

“Here…” Easton let go

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