by Erin Wright
Everyone turned to look, even Ivy, even as she was inwardly begging God that it was not, in fact, Austin behind her.
It was.
She met his gaze.
He sent her a huge grin. He knew they’d been talking about him.
She sent him a weak smile in return. She’d been caught.
She was pretty sure her hair and face were exactly the same color. Damn fair skin, anyway.
His grin got wider.
She glared at him.
He bust out laughing.
She glared harder.
“Oh, the magic of the Miller homestead,” Carmelita said in her thick Hispanic accent as she came bustling into the living room with another plate of Christmas cookies. These appeared to be sugar cookies with frosting, at least according to Ivy’s super-sensitive-cookie-finding nose. “Every Christmas, someone falls in love here in this house. It is Mr. and Mrs. Miller, watching over us, God bless their souls.” She made the sign of the cross over her ample chest as she placed the cookies on the coffee table – sugar cookies indeed – scooting it a half inch to the right, and then straightening up. Sending Ivy a guileless grin, she sashayed back into the kitchen, leaving behind a roomful of laughing females.
It was Austin’s turn to look like he’d swallowed a frog.
It rather served him right, in Ivy’s not-so-humble opinion.
“Let me drool over your adorable baby,” Ivy said in an obvious bid to change the subject, holding her arms out for Flint. She was quite sure she’d never seen such a picture-perfect baby in all her life, and anyway, Jennifer owed her for embarrassing her in front of Austin.
She felt, rather than saw, Austin move away. He was probably going to head out into the barn to hang out with the guys until mealtime. Jennifer handed Flint over along with a burp cloth, and Ivy began patting and rocking him as she looked around, realizing Juan was absent, too. He was the ten-year-old soon-to-be-adopted son of Wyatt and Abby, and as the only kid in the family other than Flint, it was probably hard for him to figure out where he should hang out.
Well, the barn was a good choice. The guys would pretend to work on a tractor or combine or something, but everyone knew they were just out there to hide from Carmelita bossing them around to set up more tables or chairs.
She snuggled Flint closer to her. He felt wonderful in her arms; a bundle of squishy love. She looked over at Jennifer with a huge grin on her face. “He’s so beautiful,” she cooed.
Flint gurgled. Jennifer beamed. Iris grinned.
Ivy narrowed her eyes at that one. No, no, no. She was not baby hungry. She could read Iris’ expression from a mile away, and she did not appreciate the direction her sister’s thoughts had taken.
Ivy simply thought that Flint was cute. That just meant she had eyeballs in her head, nothing more.
At Ivy’s glare, Iris smothered her grin and, with a teasing glint in her eye that didn’t bode well for Ivy, turned to their mom. She was carrying in a bowl of punch from the kitchen to deliver to the buffet table. Carmelita had declared that their mom could help her in the kitchen, but hadn’t let anyone else in thus far.
Ivy’s nose twitched again. Stuffing. There was definitely stuffing in the turkey.
“Mom, don’t you think that Ivy is just about the cutest mother you ever did see?” Iris asked in an overly sweet, syrupy voice.
She was such a sister sometimes.
Their mom looked up from the punch-bowl arranging and sent Iris a warning glance. “Now dear, I think that Ivy will make a splendid mother, if and when she ever chooses to have children.”
In other words, she knew Iris was trying to make Ivy blush, and even though she’d succeeded – damn her Irish roots – Ivy had won the war. Mom had sided with her. She stuck her tongue out at Iris. Iris laughed.
Ivy rolled her eyes…and then laughed too.
It was good to be home. Even if it meant that she was stuck there indefinitely, in that moment, Ivy wasn’t sure that she would trade it for the world. She’d missed her family and being teased and beautiful baby boys while she’d been hiding out in California, trying to pretend that she loved abstract expressionism.
She stopped short, her head snapping up. Abby noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye and looked over. “You okay?” she asked.
Ivy nodded and sent her an overly bright smile. “Yes, yes, of course,” she said, a bit too loudly. Abby cocked her head to the side, obviously not buying it. Ivy ignored that and continued to bounce Flint as she thought through that again.
Trying to pretend that she loved abstract art? She didn’t pretend to love it. It was her life. She’d focused on it ever since she’d moved to San Francisco and had first started taking courses at the California College of the Arts. Her art teachers had rhapsodized about the flow and curves and beauty, and as Ivy had sat in class, staring at the paintings being projected up on the wall, she’d fallen in love with the style right along with them.
Much better than being a landscape artist, anyway. Painting a couple of mountains was easy. Abstract art was hard. You had to put your heart and soul into it, not just replicate what was in front of you.
Which was strange, now that she thought about it, because she sure was struggling with her painting of the Goldfork Mountains, which wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a keep-busy project. She’d been sketching the view that day that Austin had run into her out in the woods, and had started painting it after her dad had found her oils up in the attic.
But no matter how much she worked on the painting, it was never quite right. Maybe it was the sky. She’d painted it as a sunset, so maybe she needed to add some more ora—
“Ivy!” her mother practically shouted.
Okay, did shout.
Ivy jerked her head up. “What?” she asked, dazed.
“It’s time for dinner, and Jennifer would probably like her baby back now.”
Ivy looked down at Flint, nestled against her shoulder, fast asleep, and up to Jennifer, who was holding her arms out for him, a smile dancing on her lips. Ivy flushed red again – being a redhead just wasn’t all it was cracked up to be some days – and quickly held Flint up to her.
“I’d marry him if I were you,” Jennifer whispered in her ear as she scooped Flint up, then pulled back and winked at her. “If he makes you that oblivious to the world…” She let the sentence trail off and headed to the table.
Ivy looked over at the table. Whoops. Everyone was there, and they were all waiting for her to move her ass over to it.
The thing was, she hadn’t been lost in her thoughts, thinking about Austin. She’d been thinking about paintings, which was only right. The art world was where she belonged.
Not Long Valley.
After a scrumptious dinner that left Ivy feeling overstuffed and very, very happy, the whole family moved into the living room, with couples sitting everywhere they could shoehorn themselves into, and Juan sitting on the floor, gingerly holding a sleeping Flint. Ivy grinned at the scene, loving it. He already seemed to be fitting into the family, even if he didn’t seem to be quite sure of what to do with a sleeping eight month old.
He hadn’t said much that day, at least that Ivy had heard, but when he looked at Abby and Wyatt, he had stars in his eyes.
Ivy looked to her left; her whole body was squished up against the side of Austin, who was smiling down at her. He was obviously very happy with the seating arrangement. She couldn’t pretend she minded it, no matter what her brain kept warning her to think. She’d worry about their relationship and painting styles and nagging feelings about unfinished landscape paintings later.
Right now was Christmas.
Declan busied himself, distributing the presents spilling out from under the tree, and the sound of tearing paper filled the air, along with shouts of glee and thank-yous. Ivy looked around, her smile slowly fading as the truth she’d been avoiding bonked her over the head again. No matter what she’d been telling herself to focus on, the painful truth wa
s in front of her: She hadn’t provided a single present under that tree.
She’d wanted to. Oh, how she’d wanted to. But she couldn’t get back home; she couldn’t pay her rent; she couldn’t even buy herself a pair of gloves to make it through this dang-blasted winter.
She could only hope no one noticed the lack of presents from her. She would simply die if someone brought it up, she was sure of it.
“Here you go,” Austin said softly in her ear, placing a long, thin box in her hands. A simple gold ribbon was wrapped around the middle, providing the only wrapping for the present.
Ivy stared down at it in shock. What on earth was it? She looked up at Austin and he smiled back, close enough that she could clearly see the brown flecks in his otherwise-brilliant green eyes.
Did he have…love in his eyes? It couldn’t be love. He couldn’t love her. She was imagining things.
She looked back down at the box, the rest of the world falling away. Tugging at the gold ribbon, she lifted the lid and—
“Oh!” she gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Inside of the box lay a pair of leather gloves, nestled in tightly. She gently pulled them out, running her hands over the buttery soft leather. “Oh Austin,” she said, her throat tight with emotion. They were beautiful, so damn beautiful.
“They reminded me of you,” he said softly. “Classic, simple, soft, and beautiful.” He shrugged, looking embarrassed that he’d waxed so poetic. “Well anyway, since you’ve been stuck up here without your gloves for so long, I thought you’d like ‘em.”
She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. “Like them?” she pushed out. She felt her eyes tearing up a little and she blinked rapidly, trying to will the tears away. “I love them.”
She pulled them on, the cashmere lining soft and smooth against her skin. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. She was pretty sure she’d never felt something so sinfully soft as these gloves. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Thank you,” she whispered. She leaned up and planted a quick kiss on his lips, which rapidly turned into…something more. The whooping and hollering finally broke through the haze surrounding her and she pulled back, her face afire once more.
This time, though, Austin’s face matched hers. Which was only fair.
As she showed off the gloves to Iris, who ooh’d and ahh’d over them, she heard Carmelita sniffle, “It is so good to have my boys under the same roof this year. Mr. and Mrs. Miller would be so happy, bless their souls.” Ivy shot Iris a questioning look, and Iris sent back an answering one – I’ll tell you later.
Sometimes, it was nice to have a sister.
Sometimes.
Declan passed Iris her present, pulling Iris’ attention away, and Ivy watched with morbid curiosity. Was he going to propose to her right here in front of everyone? The box looked a little large, but Ivy wouldn’t put it past Declan to give Iris a rock the size of a baseball, just so everyone knew she was his. After his stunt fifteen years ago, Ivy hadn’t thought she’d ever forgive him, but now? She couldn’t ignore the love on his face. Yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in the past, but it was time to move on. Iris had, and Ivy needed to trust her sister’s judgment.
Not to mention that Declan only had eyes for her. They followed Iris’ every movement as she opened the box and then gasped with pleasure. “Thank you!” she exclaimed, pulling some colored, cut stones out of the box.
“I bought these stones from the same company that Great-Grandpa Miller worked for when he first moved to Long Valley in the 1800s,” Declan said proudly as Iris ooh’d and ahh’d over each one. “We’re not called the Gem State for nothin’, you know. I thought you could use them in the canes when you carve them.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Iris said, throwing her arms around him and kissing him with joy.
And kissing, and kissing, and kissing.
Ivy couldn’t stop laughing. After having been on the other end of this scene just minutes before, it was rather delightful to see her sister fall into the same trap.
Finally, they pulled apart and Iris collapsed against Declan’s chest, her face a nice brilliant red. Ivy grinned in delight.
Yes, revenge was sweet.
Next to her, Austin was laughing. “So you’ve finally figured out how to kiss a girl, eh?” he said to Declan.
“Ohhhh…this sounds like a story I want to hear,” Ivy piped up.
Her mom said, “Yes please!” while her dad tried to shush her.
But Austin wouldn’t be stopped anyway. He was on a roll and was going to have some fun at his best friend’s expense.
“So there we were, on a double date up at the University of Idaho. Declan here is paired up with some really cute girl, but he doesn’t seem to be into her much. Probably because she doesn’t have red hair and blue eyes.” He winked at Iris, who flushed red again. “At the end of the night, we’re dropping off our dates, and this girl goes up on her tippy toes for a kiss. Declan here dodges her and pecks her on the cheek instead. Mumbles something about how he won’t kiss a girl in public, even though it was pitch-dark outside and no one could’ve seen ‘em!”
As the laughter roared, Ivy looked over at Juan, who looked half-thrilled to be included in such adult talk, and simultaneously embarrassed to death. According to Abby, he would be eleven soon, which meant he was about to discover that girls were really, really cool.
As handsome as he was, Ivy was pretty sure Abby and Wyatt would have to fend off said girls with a baseball bat.
“Well,” Declan drawled as soon as the laughter finally let up, “you aren’t the public – you’re family!”
Everyone bust out laughing again, but this time, Ivy was the one mortified. Did this mean that Declan was planning on proposing to Iris? And did he think Austin would propose to her?
It was way too soon in their relationship to be talking about marriage. Ivy gulped hard. Maybe Declan knew something she didn’t. Maybe Austin was getting a lot more serious about her than she’d realized.
She chanced a glance up at him and saw him grinning and laughing as he and Declan exchanged friendly insults. No, it’d been a joke. Nothing more.
Which she was happy about.
Very happy.
Chapter 14
Austin
He looked down at his wobbling knees and back up at Ivy. “You think this is a good idea, huh?” he said doubtfully.
It really didn’t seem like it to him.
She skated in circles around him, her laughter spilling out. “C’mon, just push forward a little. It’s actually easier to stay upright if you’re moving. Like a bike, except—”
“Except here, I have thin metal blades between me and death?” he interrupted.
Ivy let out a huge laugh at that one, her cheeks a rosy red color, her eyes sparkling in the dim winter lighting. She was brightening up this dark and dreary winter day just by being her. He wondered if she realized what a gift that was.
“Yeah, death,” she said dryly when she finally calmed down enough to speak. “Do you want me to ask the front staff how many have died while ice skating this past year?”
“No, no, I’m willing to participate in this death-defying stunt,” he said airily, as if bestowing a great gift upon her. “But only if you’ll take my hand and help me.”
She skated a little closer, and then flipped around and started skating backwards. “You want me to hold your hand?” she said teasingly. “Don’t boys have cooties? I’m pretty sure I learned that somewhere.”
He pushed forward a little, his ankles shaking almost as much as his knees. He was missing Bob just then. Horses were easy. Ice skating was scary. He didn’t care how Ivy made it look; he knew the truth.
“Hold on,” he said, puffing as he tried to keep up with her, “I thought you said you didn’t have an athletic bone in your body! Were you sandbagging me, so I’d agree to go ice skating with you?”
Her laughter tinkled out again. “I guess I didn’t consider ice skating to be athletic
,” she admitted with a shrug as she did a quick twirl in front of him. “It’s balls that get me. They fly at me and smack me in the face and break my glasses and they’re just horrible little objects.”
“Glasses?” he asked between pants. They were almost to the other side of the rink, where he could grab onto the railing and rest for a minute. Whoever said that ice skating wasn’t a sport – ahem, Ivy – was obviously in better shape than he was. His thighs were burning from the strain of trying to keep upright. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
“Contacts now. But yup, glasses and braces all through junior high and part of high school. Would you believe they had me in braces for four years? My tormentors weren’t especially bright, and so they stuck with nicknames like ‘Metal Mouth’ and ‘Four Eyes.’ Heaven forbid they strain themselves in the creativity department…”
She shot him a brilliant smile, showing off her gorgeous and very straight white teeth. He had a hard time imagining anyone teasing her based on her appearance. She was so damn beautiful. His eyes drifted down her body, which she was showcasing to perfection with a drapy sweater thingy that clung to her generous curves.
Damn beautiful.
They’d made it! He grabbed onto the railing that encircled the ice skating rink and stood still for a moment, happy to be upright and stable.
She skated up to him and then stopped abruptly, spraying him with ice shavings. “You know what movie we should watch tonight?” she asked rhetorically as she skated back and forth next to him, waiting not-so-patiently for him to recuperate. “The Cutting Edge.”
He furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure I’ve—”
She held out her hands for him, and he took them, placing his trust in her to keep him upright.
“I’m not sure I’ve heard of it,” he finished as she began skating backwards, pulling him forward like a small child on training wheels. She was wearing his Christmas present today, and he had to admit, she did it with style. She made those gloves look good.
