Ivy shook her head, and all she could do was whisper, “No, no, it doesn’t.”
Jack nodded. “I, uh, I think that’s all I needed to say, then. I guess—”
Then his arms were full of Alex. A blubbering, messy Alex. Jack’s hands twitched awkwardly on the chair, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Jenna stood up and wrapped them around Alex’s back. Jack hesitated but then tightened his grip.
Ivy was full to bursting, like her skin couldn’t contain the strength of her blood pumping hot and hopeful in her veins.
They weren’t alone. Finally, fucking finally, Ivy didn’t feel like everything was on her and her sister’s shoulders.
Jack patted Alex’s back, and she dislodged herself from him. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Thank you for coming to say that.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“Was there a question?”
Jack tensed. “You gonna stay?”
Alex glanced at Ivy. Their gazes met. Ivy nodded.
Alex turned to Jack. “Yeah. We’re gonna stay.”
JENNA AND DELILAH left shortly after Jack. There were a lot of tears, and Delilah produced another bottle of wine from her bottomless bag and left it on the coffee table with a knowing smile.
Alex was overwhelmed, Ivy knew. And she wasn’t the only one. Ivy’s eyes were puffy and her face warm. Alex wasn’t the only one to face some facts during that conversation.
Alex poured them both another glass of wine, and they sat on the couch silently, each processing what had just happened in the past hour.
“I’m sorry if you’re upset that I told them about the situation, but I’m not sad I got them involved.” Ivy twisted her wine glass.
Alex studied her. “I’m not upset, but I’m surprised. Why didn’t you just tell me yourself?”
Ivy took a sip of wine. “A couple of reasons. I worried that I’d chicken out. And I wanted you to understand the support system you have in place here. Here. Not another state. Not South Carolina. Here.”
“Is this about Brent?” Alex’s voice was soft.
Ivy pursed her lips. “That was a problem too. I was worried that I wanted to stay for selfish reasons. Until Violet told me that she wanted to be the one to stay this time. I don’t want her to see us running forever.”
“You’re allowed to be selfish too,” Alex whispered.
“What?”
She cleared her throat and spoke louder. “You’re allowed to be selfish too. I didn’t see what was happening between you and Brent. I took the casual thing at face value. I should have asked. I should have cared.”
“Alex—”
“No, that’s my fault. I’m not going to have another relationship again, but I shouldn’t have projected that on you.”
“I wasn’t ready, though.” Ivy twisted her lips. “Well, not until . . . ”
Alex finished for her. “Brent.”
“Yeah.” She picked at the chipping nail polish on her fingers. “He’s sweet, and he treats me well and makes me laugh, and he’s so good with Violet. And . . . he’s a good man, Alex. A good man. And we both know there aren’t so many of them.”
“No.” Alex’s voice cracked.
“So it wasn’t about choosing him over you or anything like that. It was about choosing us, our happiness. We’re happy here.”
“We are.”
“The Jack thing was a surprise, though, I didn’t know he was showing up.”
Alex laughed. “That was . . . something else.”
“Jenna looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her head.”
“I never heard him string that many words together.”
“He cares for you.”
Alex ran her hand over the couch cushion. “Yeah, he does.”
WHEN VIOLET WALKED in the door, she had a hot chocolate mustache and smelled like sweets. For a minute, Ivy second-guessed the choice of outing so close to bedtime. But it was a treat she thought Violet would like. And she clearly she did; her face was flushed and her smile big.
“Asher said I can come visit after we leave,” Violet said, biting her lip. “Is that okay, Mommy?”
“Sit down,” Ivy said. “We have something to tell you.”
Violet’s face drained of color, and her lip wobbled.
Ivy held out a hand. “Honey, it’s good news.”
Her daughter sank down on the couch. “Yeah?”
Ivy glanced at her sister, who leaned forward. “Yeah,” Alex said. “It’s good news because we decided to stay.”
Violet’s eyes widened, but she didn’t move. “What?”
“We’re staying,” Ivy confirmed. “We realized we have wonderful friends here, and you’re happy, and so . . . we’re staying.”
Violet glanced between the two of them, her head rotating back and forth. “Really?”
“Really,” Ivy said. “That’s okay, right? That’s what you wanted?”
Violet nodded her head violently and then pitched herself forward into her mother’s arms. “Oh, I’m so happy. I’m so happy.”
Ivy laughed as she smoothed her daughter’s hair. “I can tell. Now go give your aunt a hug.”
LATER THAT NIGHT, Ivy’s bedroom door creaked open. She was in bed, reading her latest paperback, which she placed aside as Alex’s dark head peeked into the room.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Ivy said, straightening up to sit. “What’s up?”
Alex shrugged, but Ivy knew she was in her bedroom for a reason. Alex climbed into Ivy’s bed and shimmied until she was under the covers, her head on a pillow. Ivy lay down next to her.
She waited her sister out. She’d talk when she was ready.
Finally, Alex spoke, but her voice was a whisper. “I feel ridiculous that I caused all of this.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I got scared, and everyone got involved, and it ended up being a huge deal, and—”
“Alex, stop.”
Alex’s teeth clacked together.
“It is a huge deal what happened with Robby. And it is a huge deal that you’re still affected by it. Don’t let anyone make you feel like your emotions don’t matter.”
“That makes me feel better. I think therapy will really help.”
“I think it will.”
Alex ran her fingers over the pattern on Ivy’s sleep shirt. “What’re you gonna do about Brent?”
Ivy hadn’t figured that out yet. But she had to do something. The thought of living here in this town without Brent’s smile made her feel cold. She’d do it if she had to, because no more running, no more moving. She had to make it up to him, though. She had to show him that he was a priority in her life now.
She wanted him.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to do something. He deserves that, after all he’s done.”
“Tell me more,” Alex said softly.
Ivy smiled as she snuggled down into her pillow. “He took me home that night from the bar and was a perfect gentleman. He got angry with me when he thought I didn’t take him seriously. When we’re together . . . he makes me feel like I’m the only woman he sees. He makes life fun. He took me to that crab restaurant and showed me how to pick crabs.” She paused before adding, “And he said that he’s falling in love with me.”
“You deserve that, Ivy. You do. And Violet deserves a man like that in her life. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it and that my issues made you feel like you couldn’t share it with me.”
“They were my issues too.”
Alex sighed, and then a wry smile broke out on her face. “We’ve been through a lot, huh?”
“Yeah, but we’re making changes, Alex.”
Her sister hugged her. “Yeah, we are.”
Chapter Twenty-One
BRENT POKED THE chicken on the grill. The smell of smoke and barbecue wrapped around him, carried on the October breeze. The fall air was crisp, but it had to be damn cold before he gave up his grill for the winter.
An ache bloomed in his chest when he thought about who he didn’t see there. He turned back around and looked at the chicken before anyone saw his face.
A hand clapped his back. “Hanging in there?” Cal asked.
Brent didn’t glance over his shoulder but instead gritted his teeth. “Fine, brother.”
There was a hesitation; then Cal’s footsteps retreated.
Brent rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. They’d been pussyfooting around him since they all got here. He wanted a nice, jovial Sunday family dinner, but all of them were acting like someone had died.
No one had died, but his heart was broken all the same.
The one fucking woman he fell for liked him, well enough, he guessed, but not enough.
Not enough.
But she’d given him the push to pursue what he wanted in life, to have the confidence to ask to be taken seriously, and to finally do what he’d always wanted.
Which was great, but he still mourned the loss of her from his life.
The chicken was done, so he plated it and whistled at everyone to follow him into the house. They sat around his dining room table, and Brent tried to keep his mouth as full as possible during dinner so no one talked to him a lot.
Brent was chewing the last of the chicken when his doorbell rang. He frowned and stood up, but Cal waved him off and began to walk down the hallway. “I think Asher and Julian were planning on swinging by. I’ll get it.”
Brent shrugged and sat back down, taking a long pull of his beer and just wishing everyone would leave so he could drink more beer. Alone. While pouting.
He’d be starting classes next week for his firefighter license, so he needed to shape up and quit being a whiny asshole. At least, that’s what Davis had said. Those exact words too.
A throat cleared, and Brent noticed belatedly that the room had fallen quiet. Really quiet.
He glanced up, and standing in the doorway leading to the dining room was Ivy, her hand on Violet’s shoulder. Alex stood on the other side of Ivy, holding her hand.
Brent struggled to breathe as the oxygen in the room seemed to thin. Ivy was here, and now that Brent saw her, he wasn’t sure he wanted this closure anymore. Because the wound was ripping open, the stitches popping where they’d been hastily sewn, and now he’d have to do it all over again.
Brent didn’t want to make eye contact with Ivy or Alex. But it wasn’t safe to look at Violet either, as she stared right at him with big blue eyes. She was holding a dish, and she held it out from her chest. “We made dessert.”
Those three words were like a punch in the gut, but he didn’t want to upset her, so he stood up and knelt down in front of her, taking the dish that was still warm. “Thanks a lot, Princess. I was just thinking I was hungry for dessert. What’d you make me?”
“Pumpkin bars.”
“Oh, well that’s perfect for October. Appreciate that. I’m going to go put these in the kitchen, okay?”
Violet nodded.
And Brent grabbed the dish and hightailed it out of the dining room. There were mutters and whispered words behind him, but he shut it out, just . . . shut it out. Because he had to get his shit together.
This was one of those times he wished he smoked or something so he had an excuse to get the hell out of the house. Maybe he could let Honeybear out. He glanced around for his dog, who, for once, wasn’t up his ass.
“Brent,” a soft voice said from behind him. But it wasn’t the one he thought he’d hear.
He turned around slowly as Alex walked toward him. This wasn’t the scared Alex he’d last seen at the garage. This was the confident, determined Alex. Which wasn’t an act, he could tell. This was the Alex she probably used to be all the time, back before that asshole boyfriend of hers.
“I’m sorry,” she said slowly, like she needed him to hear every word.
“Alex, don’t apolo—”
“You don’t know what I’m apologizing for, so will you shut up?”
He shut up.
She took a deep breath and continued. “I’m sorry that I made it so Ivy didn’t think she could talk to me about you. I’m sorry I gave you hard time when I think you’re actually one of the best men I’ve ever met. I love you like a brother, and I hope you listen to what Ivy has to say to you today.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. Any of it. And he was still processing it when Alex stepped toward him, gave him a hug so quick he didn’t get a chance to return it, and then walked out of the kitchen.
When he looked up, Ivy stood in the doorway. She wore a pair of jeans and Converse shoes and a plain T-shirt. Light makeup but still those ruby-red lips that were so damn kissable that he ached.
He needed a minute. This was a gauntlet, and he had to shore up the strength to get through this next bit so that he could then get super-fucking drunk.
He’d expected to see regret or sympathy in Ivy’s expression, but he didn’t see any of that. He saw raw nerves. She twisted the end of her dark braid, which fell over one shoulder. And then, as if she realized what she was doing, she dropped her hands awkwardly at her sides.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” His voice cracked. On one word. Dammit.
Ivy pursed her lips. “In the books I read, this part would be drawn out. I’d go on and on, talking about myself, without telling you the real reason I’m here. You’d be irritated, wanting me to get to the point, all tense and stuff.”
“Um. Okay?”
Her lips twitched, a flash of a smile. “But I’m not going to do that because you look like you might throw up, and I might throw up. I have no idea if you’re mad at me, or if you hate me—”
“I’m not mad at you. And I don’t hate you.”
She stared at him. “You’re not?”
He shook his head silently.
She chewed her lip. “Okay, well, that’s good. Because I’m staying in Tory. Violet and I. And Alex.”
Wait—had he heard her right? He shook his head and blinked.
Ivy still stood in front of him.
He blinked again.
Yep, still there. Still standing there in front of him with a hopeful expression.
He rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry; what did you say?”
She took a step forward, fists clenched at her sides as color rose in her cheeks. She set her jaw. “I’m staying. I’m tired of things happening to me. I want to take control of my own life. I want to be the one to decide where I live and what man I keep in my life.” She held her chin up. “So I choose this town. And I choose you, Brent. I choose you.” Her voice quavered, but she soldiered on. “Do you choose me back?”
Brent’s world spun. What he wanted most had slipped from his fingers on Friday, but in a span of two days, it was back within reach. Right there. All he had to do was put his hand out. “But what about Alex?”
“We realized we have a great support system here, with Delilah and Jenna and a surprising monologue by your father—”
“Wait . . . Jack—”
“And so we want to stay. What I hate most is that I think I made you feel like second priority. I didn’t know what to do that day in the garage. Alex was losing it, and I made a decision that didn’t feel right for me. For Alex. For Violet. And for us. But this”—she stamped her foot for emphasis—“this feels right.”
It felt right to him too. “I want it to feel right for you.”
She took one last step forward until her chest brushed him. “You didn’t answer me yet.”
“What was the question?”
“Do you choose me?”
He laughed. Loudly. Because what else could he do? “Of course I choose you. I fucking love you, Ivy.”
Her mouth split into a huge smile.
“I fucking love you too, Brent.”
He gripped her face and pressed his lips to hers, not caring that her lipstick would be smeared all over his face, not caring about anything, really, except Ivy’s mouth on his, her warm body in his arms, the knowledge that she was staying here. That he was good enough.
That she chose him.
IVY LOOKED OUT the front window of Brent’s townhouse as Alex pulled out of the driveway, with Violet in the backseat of her car.
She waved and then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Everything . . . settled. That’s how she felt, like all her parts were sinking and settling and working themselves down like a perfect game of Tetris.
She’d been nervous as hell to show up at Brent’s place, but she didn’t want to slink in on her belly to ask him to take her back.
She wanted it big and bold. A statement.
Thank God he hadn’t turned her down.
Two arms stole around her waist and tucked her back into a warm body behind her. Brent’s breath heated her ear, and then his teeth nipped her lobe. “What’re you thinking about?”
“That I’m glad you asked me to stay tonight.”
“Violet okay with it?”
Ivy turned around and looped her arms over Brent’s shoulders. “Yeah. She likes you. She likes when Mommy spends time with you. Plus, she loves her Aunt Alex time.”
“Good,” he whispered, “because I never thought I’d get Ivy time ever again.”
“I think we have lots of time in the future, don’t we?”
He swayed a little, his hips moving to soundless music. “More crab dates in our future, yeah?”
She laughed. “Yeah.”
“And times when we do this.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. Once, twice, and then his mouth was on hers, and his tongue was in her mouth. Her hands slipped up to fist the hair at the back of his head as Brent kissed her like only he could. God, how could she have thought she could move on and forget about this man?
They were moving now, Brent walking backward, her forward. Brent bumped into something and cursed against her lips. She laughed and then made an oomph sound as Brent sat down on his couch, pulling her with him.
She straddled his hips and ground down into his hardening erection. He gripped her hips and squeezed. “Whoa, whoa, we got time now. No rush.”
Dirty Talk Page 19
