“You’ll live,” Ivy said dryly, rubbing her hands together. “It’s cold out. It feels like snow and yet it hasn’t snowed yet. It’s so weird.”
“Yes, totally weird,” Max intoned, rolling his eyes when Jack took Ivy’s hands and warmed them between his much bigger mitts. “Seriously? I want to punch you right now because you make all other men look bad. You know that, right?”
Jack shrugged, noncommittal. “You’ll live.”
“Whatever.” Max rolled his neck until it cracked and waited while the waitress collected Ivy and Jack’s breakfast orders before continuing. “I’m surprised you guys even left the house. I thought you were off for a few days, Jack. Did you mention something about wanting a fire, Ivy, and nothing else? I wanted to punch you that day, too, by the way.”
Jack ignored the sarcasm as he slung his arm around the back of Ivy’s seat and fixed Max with a pointed look. “Your sister is hungry and I’m tired of carrying wood into the house.”
Max snorted. “That is a pain, isn’t it? I’ll bet you didn’t envision all that work when you pictured curling up next to the fire with nothing but a blanket and my sister, did you?”
“Nope.”
“Nope?”
“That’s what he says when he doesn’t want to get into a fight,” Ivy explained, patting Jack’s knee under the table. “He’s a master at deflecting.”
“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” Jack scoffed. “What do I deflect?”
“Do you remember when we saw that woman at the community pool over in Bellaire in September and she was wearing that bikini that didn’t cover anything?”
“I’m pretty sure I can’t recall anything of the sort.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. “The bikini was purple with little yellow flowers and the top was made of triangles so tiny they wouldn’t even have covered my toes.”
“Oh, that woman.” Jack smirked. “I remember seeing her. I wasn’t staring for the reason you think, though. I was going to arrest her for public lewdness. That entire thing was a travesty.”
Ivy rolled her eyes as Max did a miserable job at swallowing his chuckle. “You’re not fooling anybody. I pointed out that you were staring that day and do you know what you said?”
Jack knew exactly what he said and he couldn’t help but smirk at the memory. “I have no idea.”
“You said that you were blinded by my beauty and were having trouble making your eyes focus. You claimed that your eyes simply drifted from place to place and you had no control over it.”
“Nice one, man,” Max enthused, grinning.
“I kind of liked it myself.” Jack playfully squeezed Ivy’s shoulder. “As for what I said, that wasn’t a lie. You’re the prettiest woman in the world. I’ve already told you that.”
“Yes, but I don’t have the purple bikini.”
“You don’t need the purple bikini. You have this.” Jack tapped Ivy’s head. “You also have this.” He tapped the spot above her heart. “Why would I possibly want to look elsewhere?”
Ivy worked hard to maintain her feigned anger … but ultimately failed. “And that’s why you’re the king of deflection. You don’t like admitting to things so you just point at shiny items until you distract me and eventually I forget.”
“Oh, honey, you never forget.” Jack’s grin was impish as he kissed her cheek. “As for the rest, you’re probably right. I do deflect when I’m uncomfortable with a conversation.”
“Like this one?” Max prodded.
Jack ignored him. “Let’s talk about something else,” he suggested. “Your mother called Ivy again last night to go over the Thanksgiving dinner menu. Ivy was frustrated by the time she reached the end of the conversation. Discuss.”
“You suck,” Ivy muttered, elbowing Jack in the gut as Max heartily guffawed.
“Yeah, Mom and Aunt Felicity take holiday competition to a whole new level,” Max explained. “They’re both going to make different kinds of pie. Mom makes pecan. Aunt Felicity makes pumpkin. They will then proceed to make you eat multiple slices of that pie and then declare a pie winner by the end of the day.”
“I don’t like pecan pie,” Jack said. “It’s not going to be much of a competition from where I’m standing.”
“Oh, really?” Max wasn’t about to be dissuaded. “Are you going to tell the mother of the woman you’re dating, the mother of the woman you love, that you’re not going to taste the pie she spent an entire day slaving over? That should go over well.”
Jack shifted his eyes to Ivy, conflicted. “Is she going to make me eat the pecan pie?”
“It could be worse. She used to make fruitcake around Christmas.”
“Ugh.” Max involuntarily shuddered. “That was the worst. It was like eating a jelly brick and then being forced to stare at the television for four hours while it just sat there trying to kill you from the inside.”
“I can see your entire family suffers from the drama bug,” Jack noted dryly, sipping his coffee.
“We can’t help it. We were born that way,” Ivy said, turning her attention to the front door when she heard the bell jangle to signal someone’s entry. “Oh, Brian is here. We should invite him to sit with us.”
Jack shifted his eyes so he could greet his partner, but he didn’t get the chance because his eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead, his heart stuttering, when he recognized the two women trailing Brian Nixon into the diner.
“I wonder who he has with him,” Max mused. “The younger chick is kind of hot.”
Jack stumbled to his feet, causing Ivy’s heart to roll. She could sense something was about to happen, but she had no idea what.
“Jack?”
Jack didn’t immediately answer, instead awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other as the older woman stared him down.
“Jack.” The woman nodded in greeting, her shoulders stiff.
Max and Ivy exchanged an amused look. Jack clearly knew the visitor, and she didn’t look happy in the slightest to see him.
Jack wet his lips and then plastered a bright smile on his face. “Hi, Mom.”
MOM? Ivy made an oval with her mouth as she locked gazes with Max. She was flustered and dumbfounded, and Jack seemed ten times worse.
“Hello, Jack.” The woman was almost a foot shorter than her son, which wasn’t completely surprising since Jack was extremely tall. Ivy was tall for a woman and he still towered over her. Her hair was gray and she clutched a huge purse in her hands. The only similarities Ivy could see between Jack and the woman were their eyes.
“I … what are you doing here?” Jack asked, nervously shifting his gaze to Brian.
“They showed up at the police station looking for you,” Brian supplied, grabbing a slice of bacon from Max’s plate and ignoring the heated glare the younger man shot in his direction. “They stopped by your rental house first, but you obviously weren’t there. I thought I would try here.”
“You always did like good diner food,” the older woman said, patting his arm. “You’re like your father that way.”
For her part, the younger woman merely glanced around the table, her eyes flicking from face to face, before focusing on Jack. She seemed annoyed more than anything else. “Is it true that this town only has one diner?”
“It’s true,” Jack replied, chuckling. It wasn’t a natural laugh. It was forced and uncomfortable. He was clearly caught off guard and Ivy couldn’t help but sympathize with his plight. “The food is really good, though. It’s not exactly a hardship to only have one place to eat.”
“You should sit down,” Ivy suggested, patting the table. “We just ordered. You can join us for breakfast.”
“Uh-huh.” Jack’s mother stared at Ivy for a moment, her expression unreadable. “And who are you?”
“I’m sorry,” Jack said, rolling his neck until it cracked as he collected himself. “Mother, Denise, this is Max and Ivy Morgan. Ivy and Max, this is my mother, Margaret Harker, and sister, Denise Harker.”
“Is that right?” Margaret stared at Ivy’s hand for a moment and then turned back to Jack while Denise merely smiled, both women leaving Ivy awkwardly hanging. “So, Jack, how about we head to your place so we can unpack?”
Ivy tried to remain calm as she pulled her hand back and stared at Max. For his part, even though he liked to play games with his sister, Max seemed just as surprised as she felt.
“Unpack?” Jack’s voice hopped an octave. “You’re staying?”
“Of course we’re staying,” Margaret said, her eyes flashing. “We didn’t drive up to the middle of nowhere to have breakfast and then turn around and drive another four hours back home.”
“Really, Jack.” Denise finally spoke, making a clucking sound in the back of her throat. “We’re staying throughout the entire holiday weekend.”
“Uh-huh.” Jack looked momentarily panicked as his gaze connected with Brian’s questioning face. His partner wasn’t going to be much help – he looked genuinely confused, quite frankly – but Jack felt like a drowning man and he was desperately looking for a life jacket. “I … um … that sounds great.”
“I’m glad you approve,” Margaret said, making a face. “Why are you acting so strange?”
“I’m just surprised to see you,” Jack answered, straightening. “I didn’t know you were coming to town. Why didn’t you call?”
“We wanted to surprise you.”
“We also knew you would come up with a reason to keep us away if we did call,” Denise added, making a face. “We’ve been trying to visit for months and you come up with an excuse each and every time. No one could possibly work as much as you.”
“I’ve been busy,” Jack said, his temper flaring for the first time. His sister had a special ability when it came to pressing his buttons. He saw the same ability in Max when he wanted to get under Ivy’s skin. Max never purposely hurt his sister, though. It wasn’t in his nature. Things like family loyalty didn’t hamper Denise, though. She was pretty far away from Max and his amiable demeanor when it came to that. “You still should’ve called. How do you know I don’t have plans?”
“Do you have plans?” Margaret asked pointedly.
Jack’s eyes flicked to Ivy, uncertain. “I … .”
“You’re welcome here,” Ivy interjected, internally hoping that the initial cold reception Margaret and Denise dropped on her was due to surprise and nerves and nothing else. “We’re having a big dinner with my family and you’re invited. We’ll have plenty of food so that won’t be a problem.”
“That’s nice, dear,” Margaret said. “Thanksgiving is a time for family, though. We’ll be spending it with our family.”
Ivy opened her mouth but no sound came out. Max, offended on his sister’s behalf, snapped his eyes to Jack and found a floundering man.
“Seriously, Jack, we want to go to your house and unpack,” Denise prodded. “We’re tired.”
Ivy decided to offer her assistance one more time. “I could take you.”
Margaret wrinkled her nose as she finally fixed all of her attention on Ivy. “And who are you?”
Ivy swallowed hard. “Ivy Morgan. I’m Jack’s girlfriend.”
Margaret’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. “Girlfriend?” She swiveled and stared down her son. “You have a girlfriend? Funny you didn’t mention that when we talk every week.”
Jack briefly pressed his eyes shut, his heart sinking as he clutched his hands at his sides. When he risked a glance at Ivy he saw realization dawning, her clear blue eyes filling with astonished hurt. “Honey … .”
Ivy shook her head as she slipped out of the booth, being careful to skirt around Jack’s mother and sister as she averted her gaze and grabbed her coat and mittens. “I’m going to head home.”
“You haven’t eaten yet,” Max reminded her.
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Ivy, we drove together,” Jack said, extending a hand. “This is just a misunderstanding.”
Ivy refused to meet his pleading gaze and instead pressed her lips into a grim smile as she focused on Margaret. “I’m sorry for the confusion. I hope you have a nice stay in Shadow Lake.”
“Yes, that’s doubtful given the size of the town, but I’ll give it my best shot,” Margaret said, seemingly oblivious to Ivy’s heartache.
Ivy gave Jack a wide berth as she shuffled toward the door and the pain and confusion on her face were almost enough to bring Jack to his knees.
“Ivy?” he called out, moving to follow.
Max stopped him with a shoulder to the chest, knocking him back as he made room to follow his sister. “I hope you know that I want to punch you for a different reason now,” he muttered.
“It’s not what you think, Max,” Jack said, his voice low.
“It doesn’t matter what it is,” Max shot back. “You’ve already done enough damage to break her heart. Good job, jerk.”
Max didn’t bother exchanging goodbyes with Margaret and Denise. Instead he focused on his sister as he trailed her out of the restaurant. “Wait up, Ivy. I’ll take you home.”
Three
“Where are you going?” Margaret fixed her son with an odd look as he scrambled around the corner of the booth and raced toward the diner door.
“I’m going after Ivy.”
“We just got here.”
Jack widened his eyes to almost comical proportions. He loved his mother, but her abrasive personality often wore him down. After the shooting, he got to a point where he couldn’t take being around her on a regular basis. Quite frankly, the process of separating himself from her had been somehow liberating. He had no intention of going back.
“Ivy is upset and I’m going after her.” Jack’s tone was firm, as if he dared her to argue with him. “You can sit here and have coffee. I will be back shortly.”
“You’re chasing after a woman?” Denise made her opinion known with a derisive snort. “That really sounds nothing like you.”
“She’s not just a woman. She’s much more than that.”
“Uh-huh.” Denise didn’t look convinced. “She has pink hair.”
Jack extended a finger in warning. “Stay here and have breakfast with Mom. I will be back in … well, I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I have some groveling to do.”
“Watch her feet,” Brian called to Jack’s back as he bolted toward the door. “She’s not afraid to use them and she has a temper. I’ll entertain your mother and sister.”
“Great,” Jack muttered, disappearing through the glass door.
Once it was just the three of them, Brian plastered a welcoming smile on his face and gestured toward the booth so Denise and Margaret could sit. “I’m sure he won’t be gone long. Er, well, he might be gone a little bit. When Ivy gets a full head of steam she can be a mountain of trouble to deal with.”
“You seem to know her well.” Margaret wrinkled her nose as she pushed Max’s half-eaten breakfast away before sitting. “What can you tell us about her?”
Brian had known Ivy since she was a small child. He was tight with her parents and loved Ivy and Max as if they were his own children, so he wasn’t thrilled with Margaret’s tone. “She’s a good woman and your son adores her.”
Margaret’s eyes were contemplative as they slid to the door. “My son hasn’t been serious about a woman in … well … ever.”
“Well, I guess that’s changed,” Brian said, shooting a pointed look at Denise as she studied the diner with dismissive eyes. “Sit down. You’re making me nervous.”
Denise met Brian’s irritation with a cool detachment he recognized from Jack’s first few days on the job, until Ivy stole his heart and he turned into a normal human being, of course. “Are you saying my brother is serious about that woman?”
“I’m saying you might not want to push him on the issue,” Brian r
eplied, mustering a smile for the waitress when she slid through the swinging doors. “I need some coffee, and if you can slip some bourbon in it, I wouldn’t complain or arrest you.”
“IVY.” Jack was relieved when he saw Ivy getting into Max’s truck and he broke into a run to catch up with her. Max’s expression was murderous and he was already climbing out of the driver’s seat when Jack approached.
“Stay away from her,” Max warned, extending a finger. His irritation was evident and, Jack figured, warranted. “You’ve done enough.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack said, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “They caught me off guard. I was stunned there for a few minutes and I couldn’t keep my head.” He slid his eyes to Ivy and hated how pale and stricken she looked. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I need to talk to you.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Max barked, his hands landing on his hips. “She’s upset.”
“I see that.”
“You’re a freaking jackhole is what you are,” Max added, causing Jack to roll his eyes. He hated it when the Morgan siblings used his name as an insult. Ivy claimed she’d been doing it since she was a teenager, but Jack wasn’t so sure that was the case.
“Ivy, you have to give me a chance to apologize,” Jack said, adopting a patient tone. “That only seems fair to me.”
“Don’t listen to him, Ivy,” Max interjected. “He’s a jerk. You can do better.”
Jack’s heart rolled at the words. Part of him knew that Max’s emotional reaction had very little to do with him and everything to do with loyalty to his sister. The other part couldn’t help but worry that Ivy would actually try to do better. “Max, please don’t make this worse.”
Ivy pressed her lips together as her gaze bounced from face to face. Max was clearly furious, something Ivy loved him for because it proved what a good brother he was. Jack, on the other hand, was visibly shaken, and even though she was hurt, Ivy didn’t want him to suffer.
“You can go, Max,” Ivy said finally, her voice small. “It’s okay.”
Wicked Fun: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 7-9 Page 2
