Wicked Season (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 7)

by Lily Harper Hart

  “And you think that’s me?” Ivy felt like a complete and total girly-girl when she asked the question. She needed to hear the answer, though. For some reason – and she never saw herself as a person with self-esteem issues, but she was plagued by them now – she needed emotional reinforcement from the two strongest women she’d ever met.

  “I think that’s definitely you,” Luna said, her lips curling. “You need to be strong, my girl. You can’t let Jack’s mother treat you in a disrespectful manner. You also can’t expect Jack to race to your rescue every time one of those women says something awful to you.”

  “You wouldn’t be the woman Jack fell in love with if you allowed that to happen,” Felicity added. “He fell in love with a strong woman who loves to fight.”

  “But I can’t fight with his mother,” Ivy protested. “Isn’t that disrespectful to her?”

  “Only if she hadn’t started things,” Lune replied. “You’re allowed to stand up for yourself. You need to do it in this situation. I think you’ll find that Margaret will be angry at first, but you’ll earn some respect from her along the way if you make it known that you’re done putting up with her crap.”

  Ivy tilted her head to the side as she considered the statement. “I’ll give it some thought.”

  “You do that,” Luna said, grabbing the roasting pan. “Now, come on, little birds. I’m going to cremate you to appease the meat-eating masses.”

  Ivy couldn’t help but smile at her mother’s remorseful expression. “You’re a good mother. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”

  Luna beamed at her daughter. “I wouldn’t believe them if they tried.”

  JACK WAS leery when he let himself into his rental house shortly after five. He lifted an eyebrow when he saw the stack of bags sitting in the middle of the living room floor but otherwise ignored the scene as he navigated around the purchases and checked the house for his mother and sister.

  Margaret met Jack’s steady gaze as she walked out of his bedroom, a bright smile on his face. “Well, it wasn’t the biggest mall in the world, but it kept our attention for a few hours all the same.”

  “I see that,” Jack said dryly, pursing his lips. “Where is Denise? We should head over to Ivy’s house so we’re not late.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine if we’re a few minutes late,” Margaret said, sitting on the arm of the couch and surveying her son. “You look tired. Perhaps we should postpone dinner and put you to bed.”

  Jack wasn’t in the mood to play games – at least not the ones his mother kept trying to foist on him since her arrival – and he merely shook his head. “If you don’t want to go to dinner, that’s totally up to you. I can say my goodbyes now and then head over to Ivy’s house. It will probably be a much more relaxing and enjoyable meal if it’s just the three of us, and if I bribe Max with enough candy he’ll take his meal and eat it in the truck so Ivy and I can be alone.”

  Margaret’s eyes darkened. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know exactly what you meant and I’m not even considering spending the night away from Ivy. It’s not going to happen. I don’t care how you think you’re going to manipulate things, it’s completely off the table.”

  Margaret made a face as she glanced over her shoulder, looking down the hallway before shifting back toward Jack. “You seem to really care about the girl.”

  “I love her.”

  “Do you even know what love is, Jack?” Margaret challenged. “You never dated very much in the past because you were always so focused on work. The last time you were even remotely serious about someone is that girl you were dating when you … when it happened. You saw her like once every two weeks and then she disappeared when you were in the hospital.”

  “You can say it, you know,” Jack prodded. “I was shot.”

  Margaret averted her gaze. “I know what happened. We don’t need to rehash it.”

  “I think we do,” Jack countered. He didn’t want to be late arriving at Ivy’s house but this conversation was long overdue. “I was betrayed by my partner and shot twice in the chest. I thought I was going to die. You thought I was going to die. Everyone thought I was going to die.

  “I didn’t, though,” he continued. “I somehow survived. My body was strong, but my heart hurt. That’s why I left the city. I didn’t have the stomach to stay there. I needed space and open fields so I could catch my breath.”

  “And you’ve obviously caught it,” Margaret pointed out. “You seem better now than you did before the shooting. You’re a strong man, Jack. You’ve got your head on straight again. Don’t you think it’s time to come home?”

  “I am home.”

  “This isn’t your home,” Margaret argued. “Home is where your family is. Your family is in the city. That’s your home.”

  “Isn’t the saying that ‘home is where your heart is?’ I’m pretty sure that’s the saying. My heart is here.”

  “With Ivy?”

  “Ivy is my heart,” Jack replied, refusing to back down. “Mother, I didn’t get better because I found some open fields and sat in them. I didn’t get better because I caught some easy cases and let go of the hyper-vigilant behavior. I got better because a beautiful woman who makes me laugh filled an empty hole in my heart.

  “That hole wasn’t put there by two bullets,” he continued. “That hole was put there by a life I wasn’t really living. My whole world was the job back then and I thought I was fine with how things were going. Ivy taught me that I wanted more than that. I know what I want now. It’s her.”

  “Okay, let’s say you do love her,” Margaret said, her expression obstinate. “Why can’t she move down to the city with you? Your career options are limited up here. She can find a job waitressing or something. She clearly doesn’t have a degree that she’s throwing out the door or anything.”

  “Is that what you think?” Jack tugged on his limited patience. “I don’t want to further my career. I’m happy in Shadow Lake. I’m doing what I love to do and every night I go home to a woman who makes me happy. That’s what her place is to me, Mother. It’s home.

  “Ivy isn’t limited by anything,” he continued. “She’s the strongest woman I know. She’s powerful … and marvelous … and a wonderful cook … and a good listener. She’s the funniest person I’ve ever met. She’s fiery. She makes me happy, Mother. My heart sings whenever she walks into a room. Why can’t you see that?”

  “Because this isn’t the life I wanted for you.”

  “This isn’t the life I thought I wanted back then either,” Jack conceded. “Things change. People change.”

  “You’re letting fear rule you.”

  “No, for the first time in my life, I’m letting love rule me,” Jack clarified. “I love Ivy. I have no qualms about saying it. She’s my future. Now, if you can’t accept that, then you’re the one who is going to have issues. I’m not forcing Ivy out of my life to make you happy.”

  “So … you’re saying she’s more important to you than me?”

  “I’m saying you’re my mother and I love you,” Jack replied. “I’m saying she’s my soul mate, though. She’s my forever. She’s my happily ever after.”

  “And what if I don’t accept that?”

  “Then you’re going to have a lot of regrets when you’re on the outside of my life looking in,” Jack replied, not missing a beat. He shifted his eyes to Denise as she walked down the hallway. His sister seemed to sense something big was going on and she looked almost gleeful at the prospect of a fight. “Now, you guys can follow me to Ivy’s house. It’s an easy trip and you’ll have no problem finding your way back after dinner.”

  “What about you?” Denise asked, surprised. “Why can’t we simply drive with you?”

  “I’m spending the night with Ivy at home,” Jack responded firmly. “This is either going to be a really rough night or a wonderful one. I think you guys are in control of how it goes. I will be in control of how it ends, though.
Make sure you keep that in mind.”

  Eleven

  “Well, isn’t this just … darling.”

  Margaret was all smiles when she joined Jack in Ivy’s driveway, making a big show of scanning the heavily landscaped yard and offering soft cooing noises that Jack guessed were supposed to mean she liked what he saw even though he knew her well enough to know she was putting on an act.

  “It’s very nice,” Jack intoned, keeping his voice even. “I happen to like the cottage a great deal.”

  “And Ivy owns it or rents?”

  “She owns it,” Jack replied, his temper flaring. “This is the house she grew up in. When her parents decided to spend half the year in Florida, they sold the house and property to her so she could start her nursery and they bought a townhouse on the other side of town.”

  “Oh, well, that sounds nice.” Margaret let her gaze drift toward the trees. The branches were mostly bare, giving the surrounding woods a stark feeling. “It’s kind of like a horror movie, huh?”

  Jack scowled. “It’s kind of like home and Ivy happens to love the outdoors.”

  “You always hated the outdoors,” Denise pointed out, moving to her mother’s side. “You were afraid of bugs when you were a kid, if I remember correctly.”

  “I’m not a child any longer. I’m an adult.”

  “So you’re saying you’re not scared of bugs?”

  “I’m saying that Ivy is diligent when it comes to hunting down spiders and transferring them from the tub to the back patio,” Jack replied. “She protects me from bugs all of the time. Poison Ivy is another story.”

  Margaret arched an eyebrow. “Poison Ivy?”

  Jack smiled at the memory. “It’s just something that happened right after we met. Forget I mentioned it.”

  “Oh, no. Now you’ve got us intrigued,” Denise said. “Did she purposely infect you with Poison Ivy to keep you from leaving her?”

  Jack instinctively grabbed his sister’s arm, spinning her so she had no choice but to lock gazes with him. “Don’t push me.”

  “Leave your brother alone,” Margaret chided, stepping between her children and pressing a hand to Jack’s heaving chest as she maintained distance between the potentially warring siblings. “There’s no reason to make this evening worse than it already is, Denise.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Denise rolled her eyes as she turned away and focused on the cottage. “It’s tiny.”

  “It’s home,” Jack snapped. “If you only came here to insult Ivy and our home, then you can leave.”

  Margaret’s expression was hard to read as she stared down her son. “Your home? Last time I checked you have a rental house. You don’t live here.”

  “I guess that’s a semantics argument,” Jack countered, embracing a primitive form of glee as he gauged his mother’s discomfort. “I spend every night here. We haven’t spent a night apart for months. All of my clothes are here. I go to bed here every night. I wake up here every morning.”

  “Yes, but you still maintain another house,” Margaret pressed.

  “I pay from month to month and that could change at any moment,” Jack said. “I guess we’ll see where we stand a month from now.”

  The corners of Margaret’s lips curved down as she narrowed her eyes. “Jack, you barely know this woman. How can you possibly consider moving in with her?”

  “I love her.”

  “That doesn’t mean … .”

  “How far do you want to take this, Mother?” Jack was beyond annoyed. “If you want to keep going on in this manner then I suggest you leave right now. I think it would be better for everyone if you put your cards on the table before things spin out of control because I’m not going to put up with much more of this.”

  Margaret didn’t miss the anger coursing through her son as he stared her down. She knew better than testing his limits when he was clearly living on the edge of a meltdown. “I came here because I want to get to know Ivy better. I said it and I meant it. There’s no reason to get worked up.”

  “We both know you’re lying,” Jack said, leaning down so he was at eye-level with his mother. “If you insult Ivy in her own home, you’re never going to be able to take it back. I won’t forget or forgive.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “It’s a promise.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest and waited. He wanted his mother to reassure him that she had no intention of making this night even more of a disaster than he initially envisioned. For her part, Margaret seemed lost for a way to react to her son’s mood. Thankfully for both of them Ivy picked that moment to poke her head through the front door and survey the imminent carnage on the lawn. “Hi, honey.”

  Ivy rubbed her cheek as her gaze bounced between faces. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, is everything okay?” Max asked, leaning out so his head was on top of Ivy’s. They looked as if they were reenacting a scene from a 1950s sitcom.

  “Everything is fine,” Margaret replied, regrouping. The smile on her face wasn’t genuine. Jack knew that. She seemed resigned to being on her best behavior for the night, though, and Jack was prepared to take that as a win. “We were just discussing how lovely your yard is. Did you do all the work yourself?”

  Ivy wiped her hands on her apron as she stepped on the front porch, uncertain. “I did. I enjoy working in the garden, especially when I’m upset or in a bad mood. It soothes me.”

  “And do you get in bad moods often?”

  “Only when your son decides to be a jackhole.”

  Jack rolled his eyes as he extended a finger in Ivy’s direction. “Keep it up.”

  Ivy smiled, the first real smile she’d been able to muster in hours. “Dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you come inside and get comfortable.”

  “We’re on our way,” Jack said. “Everyone is really looking forward to a nice dinner, aren’t we?”

  “You bet,” Denise enthused, her eyes flashing. “I, for one, can’t wait to see what’s being served.”

  “We’re both excited,” Margaret offered. “It’s a new beginning for everyone, after all.”

  “SOMETHING smells good,” Jack said, inhaling deeply as he walked through the front door and moseyed into the kitchen. “What is that?”

  “It’s actual meat,” Max answered for his sister. He perched at one of the counter stools and fed Ivy’s cat, Nicodemus, scraps of Cornish hen from the roasting pan. “My sister apparently went all out for your mother and sister. You should invite them over more often.”

  Jack lifted an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting suggestion.”

  “Not really,” Ivy muttered, cuffing her brother as she walked past him to return to her cooking duties. “Stop feeding the cat. You’ll make him sick.”

  For his part, Nicodemus looked anything but sick. In fact, he looked extremely happy as he used his paw to tug on Max’s shirt.

  “Yeah, he looks terribly upset with the food offerings,” Max deadpanned, waiting until he thought Ivy wasn’t looking before slipping the cat more food. “So, Mrs. Harker, what do you think of Shadow Lake? It probably seems small to you considering you’re from the big city.” He winked at Ivy as he swiveled on the stool, offering Denise and Margaret his most charming smile.

  “It’s definitely different,” Margaret said, her eyes busy as they roamed the cottage’s living room and kitchen. “This is really darling.”

  Ivy couldn’t decide if the woman was being honest or snarky so she decided to ignore the statement. “I just need to get everything in bowls and then we’re good to go. Feel free to look around.”

  “This place seems bigger on the inside than outside,” Denise mused, extending her hand in front of the fireplace. “This thing has actual wood in it, huh? Everything down by us is gas now.”

  “I could’ve had it replaced with gas, but I like the smell of real wood,” Ivy said, slapping Max’s hand when he reached for more Cornish hen skin. “If you feed him another thing I’m going to make you sit up with him all
night when he’s sick.”

  Margaret’s eyes flashed as she glanced toward the cat. He sat on the stool next to Max, as if surveying his kingdom. He paid little heed to the newcomers. “I didn’t realize you had a cat. Jack has never been a cat person.”

  “I like him fine,” Jack said, moving behind the counter so he could stand next to Ivy. “He’s spoiled rotten and tries to smother me in my sleep if he feels he’s not getting enough attention, but I know how he feels when it comes to spending time with Ivy so we peacefully coexist. Isn’t that right?” Jack cast a pointed look in the cat’s direction, one that Nicodemus ignored.

  “Ivy found him in a garbage dumpster a few years ago,” Max explained. “Someone abandoned him. He was a kitten and almost died. She bottle-fed him herself. He absolutely adores her and tolerates the rest of the world.”

  “That shows you have a good heart,” Margaret noted. “You took care of an animal that needed help. Good for you.”

  “I think it was good for both of us,” Ivy said, transferring the potatoes into a bowl. “I love him very much.”

  “That’s nice.”

  Max moved into the living room to entertain Denise and Margaret while Jack helped Ivy in the kitchen. Margaret sat on the couch, letting the fire warm her aching bones, and watched as Jack whispered something in Ivy’s ear. She had no idea what it was, but the duo seemed ridiculously happy as they worked in tandem.

  Max sat in the chair at the edge of the room and watched Margaret for signs she was melting down. Ivy’s house was comfortable, and Max didn’t believe that simply because he’d grown up in the cottage. Ivy changed huge portions of the cottage when she bought it and yet it still felt like home to him.

  “What do you think?” Max asked, purposely keeping his voice low so Ivy and Jack remained oblivious in the next room.

  Margaret shifted in her seat and stared at Max, seemingly conflicted. “I think that they seem very comfortable around one another.”

  “They’re definitely comfortable,” Max agreed. “They love each other.”