by Laura Simcox
Ivy laughed. “Sucker.”
“I’m never a sucker.” He paused. “Could I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”
“Are you drunk? We haven’t even finished dinner.”
He grimaced. “Your mom was making blueberry scones when I left the house earlier. I had them last Saturday morning and my teeth with never be the same. Please go to breakfast with me?”
She gave him a smirk. “You are a sucker. If I go to breakfast with you, will you keep your hands off me?”
“Oh, sweetheart. What do you think?”
“I think you’re going to be drilling your gorgeous white teeth into my mom’s baked rocks in the morning.” She grinned.
“Fine. I probably won’t touch you. Even though you want me to.” With a wink, he walked back to the table and sat down. “I’m starving. Aren’t you?”
Yes. Yes she was.
Chapter Eleven
The bright morning sun threatened to blind him, but Marcus couldn’t suppress a grin as he watched Ivy walk down the sidewalk five steps ahead of him. God, if she knew what was going through his mind right now, she’d probably turn around and smack him. Or kiss him. Who knew? The more he got to know her, the less predictable she was. Especially after what he’d discovered in her old bedroom while stowing a pair of shoes in the bottom of her closet. A stack of Celebration K-12 school yearbooks, sitting on a stack of shoeboxes.
He’d flipped one open and inside the cover was “Ivy Callahan- 8th grade” in a childlike scrawl. He smiled. Names and faces he hadn’t thought about in a long time stared back up at him as he’d turned the pages slowly, feeling nostalgic but disconnected at the same time. When he’d reached the junior class, which was the last year he’d finished, he’d scanned for his picture. Little pink heart stickers surrounded his skinny teenage face, and over in the margin, there were words next to his name. Hawt. Cutie! My future prom date, as if!!!
He’d stared at the page, first shock and then laughter bubbling up inside of him. So Ivy had had a crush on him way back when… And now he was finding himself chasing her like a lovesick puppy. But love was certainly not a word he was ready for yet. A fling, maybe. He had bigger fish to fry here in Celebration.
He let out a sigh and watched the slight sway of her hips as she continued to move down the sidewalk.
She whirled around. “Stop looking at my ass.”
“I wasn’t.” He grinned.
“Yes, you were.” She stopped in front of the Lovin’ Cup, careful to turn her back to the large plate-glass window. As if anyone in there could see out—the whole window was covered from the inside with Christmas decorations. Even outside a gigantic plastic wreath blocked most of the view.
He shrugged. “You’re beautiful, and I can’t help it.”
She rolled her eyes, apparently not realizing his comment, for once, wasn’t poking fun. It was genuine. “Whatever. Just behave in there. I don’t want people thinking we’re on a date.”
Fifteen years ago you would have given anything to go out with me.
He winked at her. “I’ll try.”
With a sigh, she pushed open the door and walked in, unwinding her pink scarf as she went. But she pulled up short, making him bump into her back. Not that he minded.
“What is it?” he murmured into her hair. She smelled like sugar cookies, and he closed his eyes, inhaling.
Someone bumping into his back made him snap his eyes open and turn around. Preston stood behind him, frowning.
“Parliament.” Marcus nodded at him.
“Weaver,” Preston replied. “I want to talk to you.” His leaned around Marcus’s shoulder. “Morning, Ivy. I’d like to talk to you, too. We need to set up a ribbon cutting for the new business.”
She turned quickly, her hair whipping across Marcus’s chest. “Good morning. We can discuss that on Monday, Preston. I just want to eat my breakfast.”
Marcus gave her a gentle push. “Be right in,” he said to her, and then turned around. “She’s busy. What can I do for you?” He took a few steps down the sidewalk and motioned to Preston.
Preston let out a huff and followed. “I ran into your uncle earlier this morning. He was sitting in the Pick ’n Shop parking lot in his car…for a while. I thought that was kind of strange.”
Marcus shrugged. “Why is that strange? He was probably getting ready to show houses. It’s Saturday morning.”
“He looked like he was dead, so I knocked on the window.”
“And?” Marcus raised an eyebrow.
“He was just asleep, but he was pissed to be woken up. Rolled down the window and yelled at me. His whiskey breath just about knocked me over.”
Marcus could picture it exactly. Years ago, that’s how his uncle had woken up most mornings when Marcus had given him a shake before heading off to school. He gave Preston a pained smile. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Herman confirmed something that I’d already suspected.” Preston met his stare and looked away.
Great. “What is it?”
“That you need to keep a better eye on him. He wasn’t making much sense at all. So I pulled him out of that chicken car and took him home.” Preston squinted in the sunlight. “I know you want the town to worship at your feet, Weaver, but if they realize that you’re shunning your only relative, then that’s not going to look too good.”
No one in town even really liked Herman, aside from Ronald Watkins, but he knew Preston was right. His uncle needed help. Marcus took a deep breath. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome.” Preston shaded his eyes and looked up at the tattered tinsel wreaths hanging from the light poles. “Those really do look like shit. Ivy was right. Guess I better go order some new ones before the Christmas Festival.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “About that—”
“Save it, Weaver. You volunteered, so don’t think you’re just going to stand up on the gazebo with Santa and wave. I’m putting you to work.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Marcus replied. “Anything else you wanted to discuss?”
“Nope, I’m good.” Preston walked over to his convertible and pressed the remote on his keychain.
Marcus stared after Preston as he drove away. While it had been surprisingly nice of him to give Marcus the heads up about his uncle, the way his eyes had shifted around when he’d talked about Herman didn’t bode well. Preston definitely knew something he wasn’t supposed to. And for some reason, he was choosing to keep mum. But for how long?
…
As Marcus headed off to chat with Preston, Ivy slipped out of her coat, she glanced around the Lovin’ Cup. It was packed like any other typical Saturday. Every eye in the place, and that probably included those of a stray roach or two, were glued to her face. She pasted on her autopilot smile and waved at the diners. “Good morning. Enjoying your breakfast?”
Nobody answered, but some of them continued to stare. A few old-timers barely glanced at her before they went back to their food. One old codger said “Pfft” and shook his head at her. At least it appeared that way—maybe he had earwax issues..
Another did the same thing. Okay, so no earwax. What the hell?
She walked to the counter and caught Crystal’s eye. “What’s going on?” she whispered. “Is this about the downtown challenge? Have people been complaining?”
Crystal rolled her eyes. “Where have you been the last week?”
“In my office. Working. Why?”
“Ivy, you’re single. Marcus is single. You’re the mayor. He’s the moneybags. That makes you two the biggest target for gossip in town.” Crystal leaned forward. “They’re probably wondering why you walked in with Marcus, and then he turned right around and left, looking all pissed. Did you two break up?”
Ivy’s eyes widened. “Break up? We’re not even—”
“Good.” Crystal flicked at a crumb near the register. “It would be kind of bad if you two were on the outs, what with the downt
own renewal and all.”
“We’re not even…” Ivy started to repeat but paused.
Crystal grinned at her and raised her voice. “So, Ivy, where is Marcus?”
Ivy closed her eyes for a second and then she sighed, playing along. “Oh, he’ll be in shortly,” she said. “He and Preston are discussing the Christmas Festival. They’re arguing over who gets to be Santa’s elf,” she said more loudly.
She turned hesitantly back to the booths and tables and glanced around, feeling very alone and very stared at. She ought to say something, right? Right.
“Nice morning, huh?” she said. “Cold, but nice. Supposed to snow again tomorrow. Sixty percent chance. So I guess there’s a forty percent chance the sun will keep on shining. At least until it goes down.”
Shut the hell up. You sound more like the town idiot than the mayor.
A couple of forks stopped in midair, but nobody responded. They just smiled at her awkwardly. Oh. God. Maybe the black-and-white floor tiling would just separate and swallow her whole.
So the whole town assumed that she was dating Marcus. Why? Just because she was the mayor, and he was the sponsor who was going to make it rain money? It was ridiculous, not to mention that it wouldn’t do her any favors at work. Her plan for helping Celebration out of this economic disaster needed to be the focus, not her relationship with Marcus. Whatever that was.
She glanced around and saw a copy of the Celebration Crier on the counter. She picked it up and flipped to the full-page ad for the downtown renewal challenge. “Check it out,” she said to Crystal.
“That looks great,” Crystal commented in a loud voice. “I can’t wait to see what new stores open.” She leaned on the counter. “Won’t it be nice to go shopping again right here in Celebration?” Her dark eyes snapped with amusement.
Several people nodded and a little kid in a booth clapped.
“Yes, and I’m darn tired of driving to Syracuse for birthday presents. I have fourteen grandchildren!” called a woman from a booth near the back.
Ivy gave Crystal a grateful smile as the woman nudged her. “Go talk to people.” She grabbed a coffeepot and thrust it into Ivy’s hands. “Here, this always worked for your dad.”
Ivy weaved through the closely grouped tables with the pot, giving what she hoped were mayor-like greetings along the way. She poured fresh coffee and made small talk about the downtown challenge. When she reached the tables closest to the front window, she glanced outside. Marcus stood with his back to her, and Preston pointed up toward the decorations on the light poles. Good. He needed to do something about those. In the bright morning light, they looked like they’d fallen off the back of a truck.
She smiled at the family in front of her and poured another cup of coffee, trying to keep her eyes on them and not on Marcus. It was tough, and not just because he was sexy as hell. She was pretty damn worried that Preston had figured out why Marcus was really in town. He had that sneaky, I-know-something-you-don’t look on his face. She knew that look all too well.
She smiled at the family and moved on to the next table, where she’d have a better view.
“Hey, folks,” she said. “Coffee?” She glanced out the window again, but Preston was heading for his car.
“Whoa!” said the man sitting in front of her. “You about poured coffee in my lap, Mayor.” He chuckled.
“Sorry.” She smiled at him. “You all ready for Christmas?”
The two little girls in the booth opposite their dad nodded in unison. “Getting our tree this morning,” said one.
“Is that your boyfriend?” said the other. She pointed out the window at Marcus.
Bending down slightly, Ivy peered past the huge wreath in the window, pretending like she couldn’t quite see where the kid was pointing. “Nope.” She straightened. “Well, nice to see you all.”
She gave the little girls a wave before heading back to the counter. After a few seconds, the door jingled. She looked up to see Marcus, grim faced, walking her way. He cut his eyes toward an empty booth in the back. She led the way and slid into the seat with relief, scooting as far toward the wall as she could manage. Marcus dropped down opposite her and exhaled.
“What was that about?” she whispered.
“Nothing.” Marcus reached for a menu stuck in the top of a ketchup and mustard carousel. “What are you having?”
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
Marcus looked up from the menu and leaned forward. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you when I take you back to your house. So drop it.”
“I don’t want to drop it.” Ivy narrowed her eyes but then caught herself and pasted on another smile. Her lips were starting to tremble from all the fake grinning she’d been doing for the past ten minutes. “Does he know about the Mega-pain-in-my-ass-Mart?”
Marcus stared at her for a moment and his face relaxed into a wolfish smile. Uh-oh. She’d seen that expression before. It meant that instead of answering her question, he was going to pour on the charm so he wouldn’t have to. And, sadly enough, it usually worked.
She folded her hands, intent on not letting him wear her down. “Does he know?”
Marcus shifted and leaned even closer. She could smell that damned intoxicating soap again. He motioned with his chin for her to come closer. She hitched her butt to the edge of the bench and leaned over the table, tilting her head to the side.
“No, sweetheart,” he whispered near her ear. “He doesn’t know. We’re all good there.”
She nodded, leaning back. “Okay. That’s great. So why did you need to whisper that?”
“I just wanted to be close to you for a second. Besides, I do have something to say that you’ll probably rather I whispered.”
She sighed. “What?”
Marcus shifted again, and she felt his warm hands on her arms as he pulled her gently forward. Once again, his delicious scent washed over her, and she dug her feet into the sticky floor, as if pushing there would keep her from pulling herself closer to him. It didn’t work. With a sigh, she leaned over the table and inclined her head to wait for his whisper.
His voice tickled her ear. “I saw something interesting this morning.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she whispered back.
“It was a book in your room.” His palm closed over the back of her hand.
She pulled away and frowned at him. “So? There’s lots of stuff in that room. My mom is a packrat.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, that room is crowded. But this book caught my eye. Particularly page forty-seven. The page with the hearts around my eleventh-grade picture.”
Ivy’s eyebrows shot up, and she opened her mouth. Oh, fuck! She’d forgotten about the stack of yearbooks in the closet. Fuck! Maybe she could pretend that it wasn’t hers. But who else’s could it be? Her grandmother’s?
“Don’t say ‘oh, fuck’ out loud, Mayor,” Marcus continued, a laugh in his voice.
“Wasn’t gonna.”
“You were, too.” He grinned at her. “I’m flattered by the way.”
Her mind was spinning like a gerbil on a wheel, unsure how to handle the vulnerable spot he just put her in. “It’s not a big deal. When I was thirteen I thought you were hot. You should be flattered.”
“I am. You know what’s even better? You still think I’m hot.”
He reached for her hand, moving his fingers around her palm in little figure eights. It felt good. Too good. Ivy blinked at him, lust coursing through her body. This was outrageous. Half the town was watching them right now and the other half would hear about it in five minutes. Her smile faded. Oh, she wanted him so bad.
“What do you want me to say, Marcus?” Ivy said as she snatched her hand away.
“I want you,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “All I’m waiting for is an invitation. Will I get one?”
At that, Ivy went silent, toying with the edge of the ketchup-stained menu on the table. An invitation? Honestly…yes. She’d love to. But if
she opened that door, he might just come barreling through and her body and senses wouldn’t stand a chance. Her heart would surely follow. And she didn’t have time to get her heart broken.
“What do you say, Ivy?”
She swallowed. “Don’t come on to me in public, for God’s sake. I’m the fu—” She paused. “I mean, I’m the freaking mayor.” Painfully, she pulled away.
“Oh, don’t stop. It’s cute!” Crystal whispered from two feet away. “Ivy, your mom and dad still come in here and flirt with each other. It’s cool.”
Ivy’s head snapped around, the fake smile snapping into place at the same time. “Hey. Ready for our order?”
Marcus released Ivy and leaned back. “I’ll have French toast.”
“French toast with extra strawberries,” she said at the same time.
Crystal winked. “I’d bring you some extra sugar, too, but I don’t think you’ll need it.” She turned and stomped back toward the counter.
Ivy caught her bottom lip in her teeth and glanced across the table. Marcus’s eyes were riveted on her mouth. She let go of her lip and clasped her hands together, raising her eyes to meet his as he slid out of the booth and stood.
What the hell was he doing now?
He grinned that slow, killer grin and dropped into the seat next to her. She didn’t protest. Dammit, why did he have to be the devil she couldn’t resist?
“You never answered my question, Ivy,” he reminded her in a low voice.
How was she supposed to answer a question like that? She didn’t trust her voice or her thoughts, which had gotten lost in naughty town a long time ago. All she could do was breathe. Deeply.
Marcus cupped the side of her face and placed a lingering kiss low on her cheek near her jaw line. “I think I’ll just take your silence as a yes.”
Great. Apparently she’d just hung an “Open for Business” sign on her pants. That ought to make the rumor mill explode.
