Wicked Honeymoon (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 19)

by Lily Harper Hart

  “I think my favorite room is wherever you happen to be at the time,” she clarified. “I do like to curl up with a book and read in there occasionally, just me and Nicodemus. I’m always thinking about you when I’m in there, though.”

  “Aw,” Carter and Damien said at the same time, causing Ivy’s cheeks to burn hot.

  “I’ll think about you in my man shed, too,” Jack said, grinning. “Personally, I think it will mostly be for my fishing equipment and a place to hide when you’re mad at me, but I like the idea of having my own space.”

  “When we have kids, that might be the place where we hide Christmas gifts and stuff, too,” Ivy added.

  The fact that she’d thought that far ahead had Jack’s insides sloshing with love. “I think that’s a grand idea. The cat is not allowed out there, though.”

  “Is Nicodemus the cat?” Damien asked.

  Jack nodded. “Yes. He’s the devil. He hates me. He tries to smother me in my sleep.”

  “Oh, don’t exaggerate,” Ivy admonished. “He just likes to cuddle.”

  “He plants himself right on my face and tries to smother me,” Jack insisted. “He loves Ivy to distraction, though, and he was in her life first. We’ve come to an understanding of sorts. I don’t bother him and he doesn’t bother me. At least most of the time.”

  “Where is he now?” Carter queried.

  “My brother is watching him,” Ivy replied. “He lives in the same town. Nicodemus loves Max. This way Max can check on the house while we’re gone, and Nicodemus doesn’t have to leave the place he’s happiest. It works out for everybody.”

  The conversation turned to lighter subjects after that and Ivy did her best to engage. Her mind was on the river ahead of them, though. If one of the couples hadn’t made lunch, did that mean something bad had happened? Her mind automatically hopped there, and she knew without having to ask that Jack was wondering the same thing.

  Jack picked a brisk pace and Carter and Damien had no problem keeping up. In two hours, they would find out exactly who was missing, although what happened to those individuals could turn into their biggest mystery yet … and cast the entire trip into turmoil.

  IVY WAS OUT OF THE KAYAK LIKE A SHOT when they landed.

  “Ivy!” Jack was flustered as he tried to give chase, but he knew if he moved too fast he would tip over. He wanted to be with her when she started asking questions, but he also recognized she would beat him to it no matter how hard he tried to keep up with her.

  She climbed the incline, gave the campground — which looked almost identical to the one they’d stayed in the night before – cursory glance, and then started searching faces. The first ones she found belonged to workers. The travel company had a full staff that worked these events, including food workers and general maintenance people.

  Finally, she found what she was looking for when her gaze landed on Bart ... and Harold. They stood together in the shade, sipping from bottles of water, and appeared to be having a nice conversation, as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Where are Lily and Eleanor?” Ivy demanded by way of greeting. She was in no mood for polite formalities. She’d worked herself into a lather over the course of the river trip and only direct answers would suffice.

  “And good afternoon to you, too,” Bart said dryly, looking her up and down. He lingered on her hair — which he’d done more than once — and then shook his head. “Do you really think pink hair is the best way to go when running a business?”

  Ivy was dumbfounded. “Are you really insulting my hair?”

  “I’m not insulting it,” Bart replied in that cool tone Ivy had grown to hate in a short amount of time. “I’m simply asking if you think that your business would do better if your hair were a normal color?”

  “I’m pretty sure my customers only care that I sell them hardy bushes and flowers,” she replied. “I’ve never had anyone care about my hair.”

  “That you know of.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Ivy hated that Bart could so easily fluster her. He was good at it, and she had no doubt he was great at it when dealing with those in the oil business. He was likely very good at his job. He was still a jerk of a person.

  “Just that you have no way of knowing how many people in your town go to different nurseries simply because your appearance throws them off. You’re a pretty woman. If your hair was a natural color, I would call you beautiful. Your hair is a distraction, though, and whether you mean for it to be or not, it can turn off those individuals who like a bit of order in their shopping experience.”

  Ivy had no idea what she was supposed to say to the statement. She was frustrated, angry to the nth degree, and yet she didn’t want to start screaming because Bart was the sort of person who found triumph in simply getting under somebody’s skin. Ivy was opposed to giving him even a second of joy.

  “I think that it’s not my job to make other people comfortable,” she said finally. “If an individual doesn’t want to come to my nursery because of the color of my hair — even though I have the best stock in the area — then that’s on them. It’s not something I’m going to spend a great deal of time worrying about.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm?” Ivy’s heart rate ticked up a notch to match her spurt of anger. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know that it means anything,” he replied. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around the idea that you don’t believe appearances are a determining factor in matters of business. I’ve never found that to be the case.

  “Of course, I’ve been at this longer than you,” he continued. “It’s possible you’re not mature enough to realize how business works.”

  Ivy’s mouth dropped open at the exact time Jack caught up with her. He carried both of their bags and was irate.

  “What was that?” he demanded.

  “Did you hear what he just said to me?” Ivy’s hands were itching to wrap around Bart’s neck and start squeezing. “He says I’m a bad businesswoman because I have pink hair. He also insinuated I’m an idiot for not realizing it.”

  “I don’t believe I said anything of the sort,” Bart replied mildly. “I just suggested that if customers are comfortable with the appearance of a business owner that means they are far more likely to be comfortable with the business. I don’t make up the rules. I’m simply a student of the game.”

  Jack worked his jaw. He was angry with Ivy for taking off, but he couldn’t stand Bart on a basic level. Ultimately, he decided to address Bart rather than his wife.

  “Ivy is a wonderful businesswoman,” he said. “She’s built up customer loyalty. Everybody loves her and they don’t care either way about her hair. For the record, I happen to love her hair.”

  “That’s because she seems somehow exotic to you and there’s little more men love than an exotic woman.”

  Jack ignored the statement. “Stop being a jerk. As for you, don’t take off like that again.” He handed Ivy her bag. “I’m not your pack mule.”

  Ivy accepted the bag, but she wasn’t at all happy. “He’s a butthead and I don’t like him.”

  “I believe he’s used to that.”

  “I want to know where Eleanor and Lily are. They won’t tell me.”

  Jack studied her face for a beat, taking in her sweaty brow and wild eyes. She was overwrought, to the point of melting down, and he recognized he needed to remove her from the situation before things got somehow worse. “They’re right over there.” He pointed toward the spot where the workers toiled to put together a bonfire.

  When Ivy looked in that direction, sure enough, she found both of the women sitting on benches, drinking iced tea, and laughing. “I—”

  “Come on.” Jack put his hand to the small of her back and prodded her. “Tyson told me where our tent is. I think you could use a break.”

  Ivy wanted to continue arguing, but she didn’t have a leg to stand on. “Okay.” She felt defeated as she fell into
step with Jack. “I ... didn’t see them.”

  He took pity on her. “I know. It’s okay. You just need to rest for thirty minutes. Maybe you’re dehydrated.”

  They both knew it was more than that, but they couldn’t talk about it in front of an audience.

  “He’s still a butthead,” Ivy muttered under her breath as she scuffed her shoes against the ground.

  “He is. What’s worse is that he not only knows it but works hard at it as well. He derives power from it.”

  Yes, Ivy agreed, that was definitely worse.

  10

  Ten

  Jack dropped his bag on the floor of the tent. The setup was exactly the same as the one from the previous night, which made sense because there was no reason to fix what wasn’t broken. He pulled down the shade at the front and then ushered Ivy toward the bed.

  “I’m not going to pitch a fit, Jack.” Ivy sounded more weary than anything else now that she’d made a fool of herself in front of Bart and Harold.

  “I know. I just want to hold you.” That wasn’t an exaggeration. He hated watching her struggle. “Come on.” He crawled onto the bed next to her and tugged her on top of him, running his hand over her hair. When the ponytail got in his way, he undid it and ran his fingers over her scalp, massaging at the tension she was obviously carrying.

  “You think I’m nuts.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I think you’re worked up. Here’s the thing, I’m worked up, too. I was annoyed when you hopped out of the kayak before me because I thought you were going to beat me to the punch, which is a ridiculous thing to worry about. I assumed we would find a couple missing, too.”

  “They’re all here.”

  “They are.”

  “So ... who did the blood belong to?”

  He felt ridiculous saying it but knew he had no other choice. “Maybe it was an animal. Maybe it was some poor raccoon that got scooped up by a bird. Maybe the bird killed it and left the blood behind and then took off with his meal. Birds can do that, right?”

  Ivy nodded. “You don’t think it’s animal blood, though.”

  He hesitated and then shrugged. “I don’t know that I’m the best judge on these things. I’m a police detective. My mind automatically jumped to the worst possible scenario. That doesn’t mean that I was right.”

  “Are you saying you were wrong?”

  He was rueful when she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “I’m saying that our group is intact. It’s obvious nobody died.”

  “I jumped to the conclusion that Bart killed Lily,” Ivy admitted. “That doesn’t seem like a fair assumption to jump to and yet I did it all the same. You’re always telling me not to get ahead of myself and what did I do? I got ahead of myself.”

  “In this particular case, I think we both got ahead of ourselves,” he countered. “I was thinking the same thing you were. I’m not exactly proud of myself for it either.”

  She was silent a beat. “You know, since we’re both the smartest people in the world and we both jumped to the same wrong conclusion, I think it’s okay if we’re proud of ourselves no matter how it turned out. He’s a jerk.”

  “He’s definitely a jerk. I don’t think you should waste your time talking to him again.”

  Ivy made a face. “You’re not going to stop talking to him. You won’t be able to stop yourself from keeping at him. The second he says something obnoxious — and he will do it — you’ll be fighting with him, the same as me.”

  “Does that make us smart or stupid? He obviously gets off on irritating people.”

  “Yeah. I hate him. He’s exactly the sort of man I would rather punch than talk to.”

  “You and me both. I don’t think we can just punch him because we don’t like him, though.”

  “I could. I’m a woman. I’m dainty. I could punch him and get away with it. You couldn’t, but I could.”

  “I would rather you didn’t.” He doubled his efforts on her scalp when she groaned. “We have a few hours before dinner,” he noted. “How does a nap sound?”

  “Is that code for something else?”

  “Not in this particular case. I have grand plans to romance you later. We’re not there yet.”

  “Well ... a nap does sound good.” She closed her eyes and gave in to the wonderful feelings he was eliciting with the scalp massage. “I really thought he’d killed Lily.” Ivy’s voice was low. “That makes me think we should try to get her away from him. If we both assumed that he would hurt her, I think it’s possible that he really would hurt her.”

  Jack didn’t disagree. “We’ll feel her out. The thing is, with people like Bart, murder often seems like a better alternative than divorce for financial reasons alone. I think it’s obvious that he doesn’t love her.”

  “Do you think he ever loved her?”

  Jack tried to reconcile what he knew about Bart with an emotion he felt more keenly than others. “I think it’s unlikely. I believe you were right earlier when you said that he married her because he thought it would further his business interests. She was a nurse who he turned into his party planner. He just cares about outside appearances.”

  “I don’t understand that.”

  “You’re not built that way. You love with your whole heart, the same as me.” He moved his hands to her back so he could rub at the stiffness he could still feel there. “You need to be careful. Bart is a jerk, and I think he’d be an idiot to put his hands on you, but he obviously looks at his wife as property. He has no feelings but dislike for you.”

  “I’ve noticed. I think it’s the hair.”

  “The hair is an excuse. You’re a strong woman who isn’t afraid to state her feelings. You’re loud and proud, two things I love about you. He, however, is not the sort of man who likes those things.”

  “You don’t think he would try to hurt me, do you?”

  “I think it’s unlikely. He’s all about appearances. I don’t like him, though. Don’t go anywhere alone with him.”

  The face Ivy made drew a smile from Jack. “Where is it you think I’m going to go with him?”

  “Likely nowhere. I just don’t want you to accidentally find yourself in an isolated location with him.”

  “I have no intentions of being alone with that man. Ever.”

  “Good. I only want you alone with me.” He kissed her forehead. “Now, close your eyes. You’ll feel better after a nap. I’m sure our dinner tonight will be just as good as it was last night.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  IVY DID FEEL BETTER AFTER A NAP. JACK woke her with a sensuous kiss, although the growling of his stomach told her it wouldn’t turn into anything more than a nice moment.

  “Hungry?” she asked on a laugh as she wiped the crusties from the corners of her eyes.

  “I am. I wanted to let you sleep because you looked so peaceful, but I also didn’t want to be late, like we were last night.”

  “Definitely not. What time is it?”

  “You have twenty minutes to get ready.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t make a move to roll away from him. “I’m sorry I was crazy earlier.”

  “I like you crazy.”

  “I’m also sorry that we’ve been fighting more than normal.”

  “That’s the camping.”

  She laughed, some of the dregs of her earlier mood lifting. “I think I’m going to have to deal with the fact that you hate camping and let it go.”

  “No, I’ve told you before, I love you. We’ll make it work. I simply don’t think we can go camping deep in the woods. We need to go to state parks that aren’t too far away from society.”

  “But that’s not really camping.”

  “It’s going to be camping for the Harker family.”

  “And what about the Morgan family?”

  “The matriarch of that family is going to have to learn to deal.”

  Ivy considered it for a moment and then nodded. “Maybe Max and I can take a different sort of ca
mping trip once a year with the kids.”

  “As long as you’re not gone for more than a weekend, that sounds doable.” He cupped the back of her head and tilted it so she was looking directly at him. “I can’t go more than two days without my Ivy.”

  “Aw.” She mimicked the sound from earlier in the day and then kissed him. “Come on. Let’s get ready. I’m starving, too.” She practically bounded out of bed. “Do you think they’ll have morels again?”

  For her sake, he certainly hoped so.

  IVY AND JACK WEREN’T THE FIRST TO arrive at dinner, but they weren’t the last either. That honor went to Damien and Carter, who had changed their clothes and seemed to be in high spirits.

  Jack directed Ivy toward the end of the table where Vanessa and Nate sat. He wasn’t particularly fond of them — he really didn’t understand the influencer thing — but they were better than Bart by a long shot. He found he didn’t know enough about Harold and Eleanor to judge, but they sat at spots in the middle of the long table and there was no way to avoid them.

  “Everybody is on time tonight. Great.” Tyson clapped his hands and sat at the far end of the table, directly across from Bart. Ivy couldn’t help but wonder if that was a strategic move. Tyson had clearly pegged Bart as a troublemaker — and maybe her, too — and it was likely he wanted to stick close to the man. “I hope everybody likes their meals tonight.”

  The first round was soup again, a tomato-based vegetable that Ivy sucked down without saying a word.

  Amused, Jack arched an eyebrow and then offered her the remains of his soup.

  “Don’t you like it?” Ivy asked.

  “I think it’s fine. I’m more interested in the entree, though, and you seem to love it.”

  Shrugging, Ivy accepted the soup and finished it off quickly. “It’s really good. I would love the recipe.”

  “We sell a recipe book at the end of the trip,” Sandy offered as she collected Ivy’s bowls. “The soup is included.”

  “Really?” Ivy knew it was simply a way for the company to make more money, but she wasn’t opposed to buying the book. “That sounds fun, huh?”