Beefcake

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Beefcake Page 23

by Jenna Jacob


  Less than ten minutes alone with the man and she’d melted against him, let him drown her in desire, and all but handed him an engraved invitation to rape and pillage her fucking heart and soul.

  Then, like a scene out of a bad soap opera, that horny, man-grabbing bitch Trudy had waltzed in. It wasn’t bad enough that she’d caught them swapping tonsils, but she’d taken immense pleasure informing Ivy that the man in her arms—the same one who’d impregnated her—was Haven’s resident man-whore.

  Fat tears slid down her cheeks, but Ivy angrily brushed them away. “Just when I think I can’t possibly do anything more foolish…”

  I’ve never claimed to be a choirboy. Noble’s whiskey-smooth voice echoed in her ears.

  “No shit. But you could have at least warned me that you were a walking, talking come dispenser, you asshole!”

  With a growl, she plucked up a loaf of bread cooling on the rack. Cupping the butter crust in the palm of her hand, Ivy heaved it across the room. With a muffled thud, the bread splattered against the wall before breaking apart and sliding down to the ground. The oily splatter left behind and the broken crumbs littering the floor were sadly reminiscent of her life. Shaking the growing despondency careening through her system, to keep herself from sliding back into that familiar and unforgiving black hole of depression, she clenched her jaw and grabbed a large mixing bowl. As she measured, mixed, baked, and iced, Ivy dragged out the mantras she’d used to mentally and emotionally prop herself up during the trial.

  She couldn’t escape the fallout of gossip her unwed pregnancy would induce, but she’d keep the promise she’d made to Haven’s reputed sex-god, and keep his name from being dragged in the mud alongside hers.

  The notion that Noble had probably slept with half the town burned Ivy’s gut with a jealousy that possessed zero rationale. She couldn’t help but wonder how many other women in town were raising Noble’s love child. From now on, Ivy would be looking at every kid she encountered and wondering if they shared Noble’s DNA. The idea of, eighteen to twenty years from now, parents needing a sequence profile before allowing their child to marry anyone local made Ivy shudder.

  “That son of a bitch needs a vasectomy so that, five generations down the line, this place isn’t teeming with three-eyed, six-toed inbreds,” she groused, slapping chocolate cake batter into several round pans.

  After she’d placed the pans in the oven and set the timer, Ivy’s cell phone chimed. Plucking up the device, she checked the caller ID. A low, suffering moan slid off her tongue when she saw it was her mom.

  Today’s already been one giant clusterfuck. I might as well stick a cherry on top of it all and tell Janice she’s going to be a grandma.

  Sucking in a deep breath, Ivy answered the call. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

  “Obviously, you haven’t heard the news.”

  The anxiety lacing her mom’s words sent Ivy’s heart beating faster. “No. I’ve been in the kitchen baking…” and sorting out the shit show called Ivy’s life. “What news?”

  “Eugene McMillian’s wife committed suicide this morning,” Janice softly answered.

  “Oh, wow. I’m sorry to hear that. That’s so—”

  “Sad, yes. But speculation and accusations are being lobbed like bombs.”

  “What speculation and accusations?”

  “Oh, honey. I don’t know how to tell you this.”

  “Just open your mouth and say the words, Mom,” Ivy urged, growing increasingly nervous.

  “Eugene is accusing you of ruining him financially and professionally. He says your lawsuit devastated his life and marriage. He claims you caused his wife to take her own life.”

  Ivy closed her eyes and shook her head. “That’s insane. I didn’t force him to attack me.”

  “I know. The man has obviously lost his grip on reality, but he claimed that his lawyer will be filing charges soon against…you.”

  “Me?” Ivy barked. “What kind of charges, for fuck’s sake?”

  Janice ignored her improper language for once. “Murder, honey.”

  Ivy’s knees crumpled and she slid to the floor as panic seized her.

  “M-murder? B-but…I didn’t kill her. She took her own life.”

  “Don’t freak out,” Janice instructed sternly. “Dad’s been on the phone with Margaret Neill since the interview aired on television a few minutes ago. She’s already researching similar cases but wants to meet with you tomorrow. You need to be back here in Dallas by three o’clock.”

  “Tomorrow?” Ivy screeched as her mind sprinted a mile a minute. “Mom, I can’t just leave. I have a business to run. Ask Margaret to call me, because there’s no way McMillian can try to sue me for his wife’s death. I can’t believe any judge in their right mind would clear time on their docket for such a ridiculous and asinine case.”

  “I know… I know, darling,” Janice placated. “I’ll talk to your father and ask him to call Margaret again. If you can’t come to her, maybe we can all come to you.”

  “Yes. Please try to make that happen.” That way they can all see my pregnant belly at once. Fuck! “Mom, there’s—”

  “Wait a second, darling. There’s something more you need to know.”

  “If you’re going to tell me that McMillian’s dick fell off and he wants to sue me for that, too, I’m hanging up, packing my bags, and running the hell away.”

  “At least you’re keeping a sense of humor,” Janice drawled. “No, dear. But it’s obvious that Eugene has been watching you. Either that or he discovered your name on the business license you filed on the bakery. Or he simply hired someone to keep tabs on you, but he knows you’re in Haven and that you own Sweet Flours.”

  Watching me? A shiver of fear rippled up Ivy’s spine. Refusing to let it pull her under a tide of paranoia, she rationally compartmentalized the information her mother had shared.

  “Okay, that’s more than a little creepy. But the license is public record. I don’t know why this all matters. I moved to—” Then it suddenly dawned on her. “Oh, shit! McMillian mentioned Haven and Sweet Flours by name during the interview, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, baby, he did,” Janice confirmed in a whisper.

  Enveloped in a thick, suffocating blanket of dread, Ivy sprinted from the kitchen straight to the plate-glass window at the front of the shop. With her heart in her throat, she peered out for any sign of the privacy-raping news crews.

  “They’re not here,” she said, exhaling in relief.

  “Not yet,” Janice bid in a foreboding tone. “But by morning… Come home, honey. We’ll protect you like we did before from those evil vultures until this whole mess blows over.”

  Like a soft, cuddly security blanket, her mom’s offer was beyond tempting. But Ivy had worked too long and hard to be knocked on her ass and start wallowing in a pit of fear and insecurity again.

  “No. Mom, I can’t keep hiding every time life throws a left hook.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve grown so strong. Daddy and I were so worried that we were going to lose you to…the darkness a-again.” Her mom’s voice cracked.

  As her mother’s sobs echoed in Ivy’s ears, tears spilled from her eyes. She’d been so lost in her own self-loathing, embarrassment, and inability to cope with the upheaval of the trial, she hadn’t known the toll her despondency had taken on the ones who loved her most.

  Lifting her chin, Ivy wiped her tears and drew in a deep breath. “You’re not going to lose me again, Mom. I promise. I’ll do what I can to keep the vultures away, but I’m not hiding from them or anyone else ever again.”

  Janice sniffed. “I’m so proud of you, Ivy…so proud of the woman you are.”

  A pang of guilt stabbed Ivy’s heart.

  Janice wasn’t going to be proud for much longer.

  “Mom, there’s something I need to tell you.” The flutter in her voice caused Ivy to cringe.

  “Yes?”

  “While we were in Vegas for Celina’s non-wedding…
I-I met a man.”

  “What kind of man?”

  “A nice, handsome, incredibly sexy man,” who, ironically, not only lives in Haven but is also the town slut. Ivy decided to keep that inauspicious tidbit of information to herself. “Mom…I’m…”

  “Oh, lord, no! Do. Not. Tell. Me. You’re. Pregnant.”

  Ivy closed her eyes and sighed. She’d hoped that by some miracle of fate, the news might bring her mom a sliver of joy. But the disapproving tone of Janice’s voice removed any and all chance of that happening. She lifted her lashes and exhaled a heavy sigh. “Okay, then I won’t tell you. Let me know what Margaret says. I’ll talk to you—”

  “Prudence Ivy Addison! Don’t you dare hang up on your mother.”

  “Call me Prudence again and not only will I hang up, I’ll stop speaking to you for a year!” Ivy growled.

  “Oh, god… You really are pregnant. Your hormones have already gone so wonky that you’re barking at me,” Janice groaned.

  Well, this certainly explains why you’ve been so goddamn moody lately. Ivy couldn’t help but smirk as Gina’s words flowed through her.

  “Yes, Mom. I am.”

  Several long, silent seconds passed. Then Ivy heard her mom sniff again. “I-I don’t know what to say, darling. A part of me is jumping up and down, screaming like a five-year-old on Christmas morning. But the sensible, protecting mother in me is a hot mess, worried half out of my mind. What on earth are you going to do? Have you been in contact with this man from Vegas…the father? Does he know you’re pregnant? And if so, does he plan to marry you and make an honest woman out of you?”

  Her mom’s underlying joy of being a grandmother was like a key that unlocked Ivy’s soul. For the first time in her life, Ivy saw the woman through a whole new set of eyes.

  Yes, Janice was an uptight. She’d been hereditarily conditioned to conform to the rigorous rules of a gentile southern society. And while her moral code was straighter than an arrow, Ivy realized that all the lectures she and Celina had endured about proper behavior weren’t to point out their numerous flaws but to try and make her daughters better, stronger, more self-assured women.

  Ivy loved her mom more that exact instant than ever before in her whole life.

  “Mom,” she began, praying she didn’t start bawling, “though I didn’t show it at the trial, you raised me to be brave and independent. It’s the twentieth-first century. I don’t need a man to raise this child. I’m quite capable of providing a safe, loving home for him or her on my own.”

  “Oh, honey,” Janice groaned. “You did contact him and tell him about the baby, and that prick told you to kiss off, didn’t he?”

  Ivy sputtered out a laugh. It was the first time she’d ever heard such an improper word roll off her mother’s tongue. “No. He didn’t turn into a prick and tell me to kiss off. I told him I didn’t want a damn thing from him and to take care of himself. So in essence, I’m the prickette who told him to kiss off.”

  “Oh, Ivy,” she chided. “If he was good enough to…to rumple the sheets with, he should have been good enough for you to marry.”

  “Mom—”

  “I’m not finished. I’m proud that you’re not willing to bind yourself to someone you don’t love, but honestly…why didn’t you use protection?” Janice paused and sighed softly. “Well, what’s done is done. Don’t worry about McMillian, the baby, or the deadbeat who got you pregnant. We’ll take each day as it comes, like we always do. And Daddy and I will be behind you a hundred and ten percent.”

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, sweet baby girl.” A tiny squeal escaped her mom. “I’m going to be a gramma. Oh, my…goodness. Daddy or I will be in touch soon.”

  Ivy silently giggled. “I’ll wait for your call.”

  After saying their goodbyes, Ivy ended the call, and scanned the street again.

  Now that the sun was down, Haven resembled a ghost town. Everyone was safely ensconced in their homes, eating dinner, sipping wine, watching television, or maybe already snoring. They were all blissfully unaware that, because of Ivy, a media circus was about to invade their quiet little town.

  Remorse and dread consumed her.

  Across the street, in the window of the Hangover, a neon sign blinked blue and red, like the lights of a police car. A light bulb went off in Ivy’s head as she scurried to the kitchen. While she waited the last three minutes for the cakes to finish baking, she tugged off her apron and donned a jacket that hid her stomach. When the timer beeped, she removed the cakes and turned off the ovens, grabbed her keys, and hurried to the bar.

  As she gripped the doorknob of the Hangover, Ivy’s pulse quickened. Angst, prickly and warm, swam up from her toes. She wasn’t looking forward to facing Noble again this soon, but the clock was ticking, and time was of the essence.

  Squaring her shoulders, Ivy lifted her chin and pulled the door open. When she stepped inside, she saw Nate and Gina at the bar, laughing.

  “Hey,” Gina called out, more subdued than usual. Worry lined her face as she studied Ivy. “You doing okay?”

  “Actually? No. Do you have time to talk for a minute?”

  “Of course.” Gina turned and tilted her face up at Nate. “Baby, you don’t mind handling the bar while we have a little girl time, do you?”

  “Not at all.” Nate sent Ivy a warm smile before daring a glance at the pool table.

  Ivy followed his line of sight, and saw Noble tip back a bottle of beer. Butterflies dipped and swooped in her belly as she watched his throat work, draining the bottle in one long gulp. The man beside him holding a pool cue—with matching emerald eyes and dark hair—slapped Noble on the back and handed him another brew.

  As if sensing her stare, he lifted his head. Their eyes locked for a long, emotion-filled second before he shook his head and lifted the fresh bottle to his lips and chugged.

  “Come on, honey,” Gina whispered suddenly at Ivy’s side. “He’s well on his way to getting seriously fucked up. But don’t worry. Sawyer, the one with the pool stick, is his brother. He and Nate are keeping a close eye on him.

  Ivy sucked in a ragged breath and followed Gina behind the bar and through a wide doorway that led to a small kitchen. After pausing to grab a couple bottles of water from a large industrial refrigerator, Gina shoved the metal back door open. They stepped out into the alley and walked to a picnic table situated beneath a tall oak tree.

  Ivy took a large gulp of water and swallowed tightly. “Earlier, when I accused you of keeping secrets, you reminded me that I’d been keeping them, too.”

  “I remember,” Gina assured solemnly.

  “I need your help, but first I need to tell you my secret.”

  Gina nodded. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I’m honored that you trust me with them. What you tell me will stay right here,” she vowed, laying a hand to her heart.

  “Thank you.” Ivy choked on the realization that she hadn’t lost her best friend after all the crazy chaos earlier. She reached for Gina’s other hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

  Ivy licked her lips and drew in a deep breath and then proceeded to tell the woman everything. Every detail about Eugene McMillian, the attack, the lawsuit, the paparazzi invading her life, and the depression she’d struggled to overcome. When Ivy was finished, she sat back and let out a heavy sigh.

  “Jesus, woman. You’ve been through the fucking wringer. You’re one strong bitch…and I say that with the utmost love and respect.” Gina chuckled and sobered. “I get it now. I understand why you told Noble that you didn’t want him, and for him to take a hike.”

  Ivy cringed. “Is that what he said?”

  “No, Noble didn’t tell me that. Nate did. After Noble left the bakery, he and Nate took a drive. When they came back to the bar, Nate said a few things, but I was able to read between the lines.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want him. I’m just not going to trap him or mess up his life. Besides, Trudy came in while we
were…um…oh, hell. Noble was kissing my damn lips off,” Ivy confessed with a wave of her hand. “She made sure I knew what kind of reputation Noble has around here…how he gets around…a lot…like with any woman who’ll spread her damn legs.”

  Gina chuckled and shook her head. “He used to get around…a lot. But when he came back from Vegas, no one but Nate knew that Noble had lost all interest in getting nasty with anyone but you.”

  Huh. So he didn’t feed me a line of bullshit after all. Ivy tucked the information away to dissect later.

  “Yeah, well. I’m not looking for a life partner or even a boyfriend, so it’ll be a whole lot less complicated if he just goes on with his life.”

  “God, you two are so much alike it’s not fucking funny. Well, it is, but…” Gina winked.

  “Yeah, well, life around here is about to get real crazy.”

  “You having twins?”

  “Hush your mouth,” Ivy scolded. “No, I just got off the phone with my mom and there’s more to the ongoing saga of Eugene McMillian.”

  She filled Gina in on the newest details and the vultures who’d soon be swooping into Haven and ripping her life open again.

  “But if they find out I’m pregnant with Noble’s baby, they’ll tear his life open and plaster every morsel of information they dig up on him all over the news. I can’t let that happen to him. I need you and Nate to help me protect him.”

  Gina nodded thoughtfully before a sly smile curled her lips. “First of all, Noble…hell, all the Graysons are honest, good, hardworking, and compassionate people. But if you mess with one of ’em, you might as well just slap a hornet’s nest with a stick, ’cause they’re all gonna come out of the nest, swoop down, and whoop ass. Big-time. Honey, we don’t need to worry about Noble. What we need to worry about is keeping those fucking reporters off your nipples.”

  “That’s why I came to talk to you. I can handle them, I think. But I need to warn the sheriff and let him know what’s about to happen to this quiet town. But I don’t know him. I don’t know if he’ll want or even be able to keep them out or stop them from turning Haven into a three ring circus.”

 

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