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“Does Santa live in the North Pole?” I shoot her a wide grin, shove a hand in the pocket of my cargo shorts.
“I suppose he does.” She flips her long, dark hair over her shoulder.
“Where you staying, Ivy?” Scott asks, stepping out of the golf cart to make room for her.
“The inn. With the rest of the cast.”
“Ah, the Sugar Plum Inn. You’re gonna love it.” I take my seat behind the wheel.
Ivy rolls her steel blue eyes. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“It’s practically a landmark here in Candy Cane Key.”
“Super.” She clutches the strap of the large leather satchel slung over her shoulder and Scott waves his hand at the cart.
“Ladies first.”
With a deep breath, Ivy climbs aboard, settling in next to me. I catch a faint whiff of some sultry—and no doubt expensive—scent as she scootches closer, making room for Scott.
She crosses her ankles and clutches her bag to her chest, drawing my gaze to her curves. I can definitely understand why she’d be cast as the leading lady.
Ivy Winters is a knockout, in that hometown, girl-next-door kinda way. Porcelain smooth skin, dark lashes, perfectly straight, white teeth. And a body to die for, all legs with the exact right amount of curves.
Just my type, minus the diva attitude.
“When do y’all start filming?” I ask as we whiz down the main road, heading toward the center of Candy Cane Key.
“In a few days. I have to block the locations, set up a filming schedule that makes sense. We still have some logistics to work out. But the sooner we get going, the better,” Scott says.
Ivy stays quiet, a tight grip on her bag as we zoom down the road, a hot and humid breeze whipping our faces.
“Do you have rehearsals and stuff before you start filming?” I ask, cutting my eyes at Ivy.
“Probably.” She shrugs and looks bored. “I haven’t received my schedule yet. This was all kind of last minute.”
“You must be excited. Filming a movie is so cool!”
“Eh. It’s not all that cool; I’ve been at this a long time.”
“Really?” Ivy doesn’t look a day over twenty-five.
“Almost two decades. I started auditioning and getting roles in high school.”
“Wow. That’s great,” I say, one-hundred percent truthfully.
“Is it?” She raises her brows. “I’m almost over-the-hill by Hollywood standards.”
“Seasoned.” I wink at her and a soft pink blush tints her cheeks.
“That’s one word for it.”
Scott clears his throat and I glance over at him, catching the slightest hint of a head shake in my direction. A ‘don’t-go-there-dude’ warning.
I ignore him, forging ahead. It’s not every day you meet a famous actress. “What’s your favorite movie you’ve made so far?”
Ivy guffaws. “Favorite? Don’t think I’ve made that one yet. Most of my movies are cheesy holiday movies.”
Scott bristles next to Ivy, squaring his shoulders.
