“I’ve moved ninety-five percent of my stuff to your house,” Jack clarified. “I also have a lease that won’t run out for another two months, so there’s no hurry. The only stuff left out there is my fishing stuff.”
“Yeah, but … .”
“I spend every night with you. I live with you. I love you. I don’t know why the fishing stuff being at the other house drives you crazy.”
“I simply can’t figure out why you don’t want to move it to our house,” Ivy replied. “By the way, I don’t like it when you call it my house. It’s our house.”
“I’m still getting used to it. That was a slip of the tongue.” Jack gave her hand a friendly squeeze. “Honey, I haven’t moved the fishing stuff yet because there’s nowhere to keep it. You don’t exactly have a lot of storage space.”
Ivy balked. “What about the basement?”
“We have contractors coming to talk about the basement expansion in two weeks,” Jack reminded her. “I think that carrying things into the basement when we’re going to have to carry them right back out again is a waste of effort.”
Honestly, Ivy could see his point. When he first suggested updating the basement at her small cottage, she thought he was crazy. She loved the house beyond reason and didn’t want to change it, but Jack was the pragmatic sort. He pointed out that the house was barely big enough for the two of them. If they ever wanted to have a family – and keep the house Ivy loved so much – they were going to have to change things up and better utilize the space that they had.
With that in mind, Jack suggested hiring a contractor to turn the basement into a walkout. That meant adding two bedrooms and an office downstairs while cleaning up the main space to use as a recreation room. It was a daunting task and Ivy knew it was going to be a long spring and summer given all the construction, but she also knew it would be worth it when they were done. They were turning her house into their home … and she was beyond excited.
“Okay, well … you could move the fishing equipment to my library,” Ivy suggested.
“The fishing equipment stinks and I’m not doing that to the library,” Jack said. “The fishing equipment is fine. Once the weather breaks, I will grab it from the house and take it to your nursery until the basement is done. I can store it in one of the greenhouses. It’s fine sitting out there for the next few weeks, though.”
“Oh.” Ivy furrowed her brow. “You plan on taking it to the nursery?”
“I do.” Jack tilted his head to the side, confused. “Why? Did you convince yourself that I kept the fishing equipment at the other house for some nefarious reason?”
He knows me too well, Ivy internally groused. “No. Of course not.”
Jack flicked her ear, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning when she growled. “You’re a terrible liar. Admit it. You thought me leaving the fishing stuff at the other house meant something big.”
“I did not.” Now that he said it out loud, Ivy felt a bit foolish.
“You did so.”
“I did not.” Ivy rolled her neck and averted her eyes. “So, where do you want to look first?”
“Wherever you want is fine,” Jack replied, capturing her hand. “Just for the record, though, you’re a terrible liar and I knew you were thinking something stupid.”
Ivy blew out a sigh, resigned. “I didn’t mean to … insinuate … anything.”
“I know that,” Jack said. “You just thought I was keeping my fishing equipment separate in case I changed my mind and decided to run. Of course, I would just leave my clothes and personal belongings behind so I could grab my fishing equipment and flee into the dead of night.”
“Oh, I’m done talking to you,” Ivy muttered.
Her annoyance only served to entertain Jack further. “Honey, I have a year-long lease at that house. I can’t turn the keys over until the end of April. It’s not as if I’ll be saving any money and I have to regularly check the place in case there’s a catastrophe.”
“Oh.” Ivy slowed her pace. “I didn’t even consider that.”
“Yes, now don’t you feel like a fool?”
“I think you’re a fool,” Ivy shot back.
“A fool in love,” Jack playfully cooed, making a groaning sound when she smacked his arm. “You’re violent, woman. It’s a good thing that I happen to like my women feisty.”
“Oh, geez. If you’re about to verbally copulate, I’m going to turn right back around.” Max Morgan, Ivy’s brother, appeared at Jack’s side and grimaced when he heard the tail end of their conversation. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”
“It is your sister,” Jack agreed, his smile returning. He was genuinely fond of Max despite the man’s penchant for drama. “She’s going to be my wife, though.”
“You just like saying the word ‘wife,’” Max groused. “Between Ivy showing off her ring to whoever will look at it and you saying ‘my wife’ like it’s some sort of secret code to get you into a rave or something, you two are quite the pair.”
“Thank you,” Jack said without hesitation. “Now, if you’ll hold on just a second, your sister and I were in the middle of a disagreement.”
“Aren’t you always in the middle of a disagreement?” Max challenged.
“Only fifty percent of the time.” Jack turned a set of stoic eyes to Ivy. “The rental house can’t be returned until the end of April. I have to pay for the next two months regardless. The fishing equipment is fine there until the snow is gone. Then I’m going to take it to the nursery. I promise there’s no hidden meaning as to why the fishing equipment is staying at the other house.”
“I wasn’t being mental,” Ivy muttered under her breath, annoyed.
Jack barreled forward, ignoring the statement. “Besides that, you’re going to need to go to the rental house and help me clean it before I can turn over the keys.”
Ivy jerked her head up, surprised. “Why do I have to clean it? I didn’t live there. Heck, we never even spent a night there.”
Jack rubbed his chin, considering the statement. “That’s weird. You’re right. We never spent the night there.”
“It was like my house was always your house,” Ivy suggested, her smile back in place. “It was always meant to be our house.”
“Kind of, huh?” Jack returned the smile. “You’re still helping me clean.”
“Oh, geez. I hate cleaning,” Ivy grumbled.
“You’ll live.” Jack turned his full attention to Max. “Okay, we’ve made up. What’s up with you?”
“You guys should be studied for a few psych experiments,” Max supplied. “You’d make lovely case studies. You know that, right?”
“I’m more interested in the festival.” Jack flicked his eyes to the huge banner over the main walkway. It was littered with hearts and cupids, and the walkway heading to the bonfire area was offset with heart-shaped lanterns and pink twinkle lights. “What kind of festival is this?”
“It’s the festival of love,” Max replied, smirking. “It’s right up your alley.”
Jack considered questioning further, but the fact that a woman he didn’t recognize approached and handed him a rose while smiling caused him to change his mind. “I think this place has a few too many festivals, but this one sounds fun.” He handed the rose to Ivy. “For you, honey.”
Ivy smiled as she accepted the bloom. “It’s cute that you’re excited for this, but it’s not what you think it’s going to be. It’s not going to be all love, kisses, and flowers.”
“Okay. What is it really?”
“An excuse for people to yell and scream at each other.”
“Oh, well, that sometimes excites me, too.” Jack squeezed her hand. “Come on. Show me around.”
“Okay. You asked for it, though.”
Two
“Okay, now I definitely need the rundown of this thing.” Jack absent-mindedly rubbed his hand over Ivy’s slim back. “How can a festival that supposed to be all about love cause people to
be unhappy?”
“Oh, you’re a simple man so it’s hard for you to understand a complicated truth,” Max teased. “The Festival of Love has been a convoluted mess since we were kids.”
Jack shifted his eyes to Ivy. “Would you like to explain? I have a feeling that your brother is going to drag things out so long that I lose interest in the answer.”
Ivy snorted as Max rolled his eyes.
“He has a point, Max,” Ivy noted. “You do tend to run off at the mouth.”
“And you’re a calm and collected cucumber,” Max shot back, miffed. “I don’t run off at the mouth.”
Ivy made a dubious expression as a young woman – barely in her twenties – passed the small group. She wore tight pants and a red festival coat, which happened to be zipped down so Max could get an eyeful of cleavage. “There goes one of your Valentine Vixens now, Max. Things are looking up for you at least.”
“Valentine Vixen?” Jack watched the woman walk down the pathway, his eyes dipping low enough that Ivy was convinced he was watching her swinging hips.
“Do you want to sleep on the couch?” Ivy challenged.
Jack forced his eyes back to Ivy. “What are you talking about?”
The way his lips curved told Ivy he knew exactly what she was talking about. “You’re on my list.”
“Oh, honey, don’t be like that.” Jack ran his tongue over his teeth before focusing on Max. “You name all the festival chicks, right? I’ve heard of the Haystack Honeys, the Christmas Cuties, the Turkey Tarts – although your sister might have made up that one now that I think about it – and now the Valentine Vixens.”
“I can’t help myself,” Max replied. “They always wear these cute little outfits and are ridiculously hot.”
“You’re right about them being hot,” Ivy said after a beat. “I wonder who picks the female volunteers. I notice they don’t have any hot guys walking around to entice the women. It must be a man in charge of the selection process. I’m totally going to find out who it is and have a talk with him.”
“Don’t you dare.” Max extended a warning finger. “I like the festivals how they are.”
“I know you do.” Ivy was blithe. “Perhaps I would like a little eye candy, though. I mean … fair is fair.”
“You have eye candy,” Jack argued. “I’m your eye candy.”
“You just zeroed in on that girl’s butt right in front of me,” Ivy argued. “How is that fair?”
“I didn’t zero in on her butt,” Jack protested. “I merely … watched her walk down the sidewalk because I was worried she might slip and fall.”
“Oh, whatever.” Ivy rolled her eyes so hard Jack worried she might topple over. He found the expression cute, though, so he grabbed her around the waist and smacked a loud kiss against her cheek. “You know you’re the only one for me.”
“Oh, I feel like puking.” Max wrinkled his nose. “How long are you guys going to be like this?”
“Forever,” Jack replied without hesitation.
“I’m hoping we’ll be happy forever,” Ivy answered. “I’m guessing the sickly-sweet proposal hangover won’t last much past Valentine’s Day.”
Max’s expression softened momentarily, genuinely happy because of his sister’s overt delight, and then he brightened. “That’s right around the corner.”
“And Jack says he has something special planned.”
Max flicked his eyes to Jack, suspicion returning. “Is this something special in your pants?”
“Don’t be gross.” Jack flicked his ear. He and Max had developed something of a sibling relationship of their own. Even though it weirded Ivy out to think too hard on it, she was glad they liked one another. It made the situation – the one where Max was essentially Ivy’s best friend – much easier to deal with. “I’m taking her out to a romantic dinner.”
“He won’t tell me what he has planned,” Ivy lamented. “Personally, I think I should be the one to handle the big Valentine’s Day plans since he was in charge of the fancy proposal. He won’t let me, though.”
“I thought you told me he just dumped the ring on your lap and said ‘let’s do this,’” Max argued.
Jack pinched his face into a dark expression. “That is not what happened.”
“It’s kind of what happened,” Ivy argued.
“Only because you ruined my big proposal plan by going through my stuff and causing a whole … thing,” Jack groused.
Ivy grinned. She felt markedly better about the fact that the incident still bothered him. “You’re like a girl sometimes with the grudges you hold. I like it.”
Jack wanted to pout, but her expression wouldn’t allow him to remain angry. “Let’s go back to talking about the festival, shall we?”
“Definitely,” Max agreed. “Talking about Ivy makes my skin itch, like I have cooties or something.”
“I will hurt you,” Ivy threatened.
“You guys make me laugh.” Jack chuckled appreciatively. “Tell me about this festival, though. I would think if you have a Festival of Love that people would walk around being in love … or looking for love … or at least trying to hook up, which would force everyone to be polite.”
“I think that was the initial intention,” Ivy explained, nudging Jack to get him moving. “The festival was supposed to be a Valentine’s Day thing. It started when we were kids.”
“Yeah, all the games have heart-shaped prizes, all the cookies are shaped like hearts, and once they used to have a dunk tank where they made the mayor dress like a cupid – you know, in a big diaper and everything – and people would donate money to dunk him for charity.”
Jack cocked an eyebrow, amused. “I see.”
“The bonfire was supposed to be a big romantic thing,” Ivy said. “That’s the Saturday night event. Everyone dresses in warm clothes and makes s’mores and has hot chocolate in mugs.” She took on a wistful expression. “When I was little I hoped to have someone to go to the bonfire with because Mom and Dad always looked so happy when we attended.”
“Yeah, Dad used to get handsy and everything,” Max confirmed.
“Well, you have me,” Jack pointed out. “You can get handsy with me at the bonfire.”
Ivy snorted. “I’m looking forward to the hot chocolate more than getting handsy in public.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Jack chided. “I’m thinking we’ll be able to work both in.”
“We’ll see. The festival was a big hit until I was teenager and they changed one aspect of it. Once they did that, it stopped being as much fun.”
Jack waited for Ivy to expand. When she didn’t, he turned to Max. “I’m dying to know what the one thing they changed is.”
“It’s kind of a sore spot between Ivy and me,” Max hedged, scratching the side of his nose as he shifted from one foot to the other. “We had a big fight over it when we were teenagers and we didn’t speak for a month.”
“You two didn’t speak for a month?” Jack was understandably dubious. There were days Max and Ivy couldn’t go an hour without texting one another. “It must have been some fight.”
Ivy averted her gaze and focused on a food booth across the way. “It wasn’t a good time.”
She sounded morose enough that Jack wondered if she still harbored ill will regarding whatever went down between them.
“How about you tell me the story and then I’ll beat up Max for you for old time’s sake,” Jack suggested, earning a reluctant smile for his effort.
“It’s probably better that we show you,” Ivy said. “I think the story will lose something in the telling.”
“Oh, well, I can’t wait to see this.”
“You’re going to regret saying those words,” Max supplied. “Trust me.”
“WOW.”
Jack blinked several times in rapid succession as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the lighting in Shadow Lake’s community barn. He’d only been in the structure a few times – once because he wanted to att
end the weekly dance with Ivy after hearing so much about them – but he’d never seen the building when it looked like this.
“It’s like the colors pink and red threw up and coated the world with … this,” Jack muttered, glancing around at the decorations. Everything was hearts as far as the eye could see. Hearts, hearts, and more hearts. “I don’t think I understand.”
“It’s a pageant,” Max explained.
“A beauty pageant,” Ivy clarified, her tone dark. “It’s for teenagers.”
“Little Miss Shadow Lake Love,” Max added. “It’s a big deal. All the female teenagers of a certain age participate and the winner gets to ride on a float and make public appearances at different festivals over the summer.”
“I see.” Jack said the words, but he wasn’t sure he meant them. “And this is the event that ruined the Shadow Lake Festival of Love? I thought things like this were fairly normal in small towns … at least that’s what television has taught me.”
“I think the pageant itself is normal,” Max said, risking a glance at Ivy before focusing his full attention on Jack. “This one here … well, it gets pretty intense. You have to understand, there’s not a lot to do in Shadow Lake in the middle of winter.”
“Yes, it’s downright depressing here,” Ivy muttered.
Jack tentatively reached out and pressed his hand to the back of Ivy’s neck, giving her a solid rub to ease the tension she was obviously feeling. “I think you need to tell me the story, Max. Your sister isn’t going to do it.”
Max heaved out a sigh, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders and he was struggling to stand because of it. “The first year the pageant happened was when we were in elementary school so we didn’t know that much about it by the time we hit high school and it was our turn – or better, Ivy’s turn – to participate.”
“Okay.” Jack failed to see why that made Ivy so angry. She was hardly the beauty-pageant type. She was more the get-down-and-dirty type. He liked that about her.
“They didn’t have a lot of contestants the year Ivy was a senior,” Max said. “I can’t remember exactly why, but it was like the one year not a lot of people wanted to be involved for some reason. Mom was on the organizational committee for the festival. She volunteered Ivy for the pageant.”
Wicked Fun: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 7-9 Page 40
