Chapter 20

Ivy woke slowly. She was on her stomach, and something warm pressed up against her side. For a moment, she was confused, but then she remembered the night before and smiled. So. Much. Sex. And all of it was so good, it hurt. Literally.

She moved a bit, then groaned and opened one eye. It was still dark, and when her eyes adjusted, she spied two wagging tails attached to two dogs with wet noses and wetter tongues. They watched from beside the bed.

Ivy reached over and scratched their heads, wondering how they’d managed to open the bedroom door, then turned to Mike Paul. He was on his back, arms flung above his head, sleeping like a baby. Her smile widened, and she moved a lock of hair from his forehead, then gently pressed a kiss to his cheek. He didn’t move.

Her heart was full because he filled it up, and truthfully, she could have spent the entire day watching him sleep. He was perfect. He was imperfect. He was everything she wanted. “I love him,” she whispered to herself.

And he loves me. He’d said the words. Out loud. Three little words she’d hadn’t known she needed to hear.

Ivy considered snuggling back in and falling asleep, but the clock on the dresser glowed six a.m. Carefully, she slipped from the bed and then padded to the bathroom. She was sore. Everywhere. Her arms. Her abs. Her thighs. Between her legs. But it was the kind of sore a woman didn’t mind. It told her she’d been thoroughly loved. Six times . Nope, she grinned to herself, seven . There’d been that last time when he’d done the thing with his tongue, just before they’d fallen asleep.

The man was insatiable. They’d spent all their time in the bedroom. Had all the sex, ate all the pizza, and devoured two pounds of wings. Then, more sex. Could a girl be sexed out? Was there such a thing as too much? Could a vagina break?

“Geez,” she whispered. Don’t be dumb.

Ivy studied herself in the mirror. Her eyes were glassy, her lips bruised, and there were obvious signs of beard rash on her face, and she glanced lower, between her legs.

Just thinking of Mike Paul down there made her blush. The man knew his way around a woman’s body. Knew how to use his tongue. And the way he curved his fingers and pushed upward when he was inside her? Bingo. He could patent that move and make millions.

She winced a bit as she edged up to the sink and searched for a toothbrush, but there was only a lone electric device on the counter. She stared at it for a couple of seconds. What would she have done if she’d found a pink toothbrush squared away in a drawer? Mike Paul was no saint, but still, she was pleased to note no evidence of another female in his bathroom.

She used her fingers to clean her teeth with a liberal amount of paste, then eyed the shower. But with no toiletries or clean clothes to change into, Ivy decided to wait until she got home. She would have loved nothing more than to spend the entire day with Mike Paul, but there were loose ends to tie up. She didn’t need a buffer anymore.

Smiling to herself, Ivy headed back to the bedroom, found her clothes on the floor, and got dressed. Mike Paul had turned onto his side, and she wondered if she should wake him. Didn’t he have chores and animals to look after? She took a step toward the bed but then paused. She could check on the animals in the barn and make sure they had food and water before she left. It couldn’t be that complicated.

It was the least she could do, considering this had been, hands down, the best night of her life. She dropped one last, light kiss on his forehead and closed the bedroom door.

Ivy hummed a tune and made her way downstairs, the dogs hot on her heels. She let them out and filled up their food and water dishes. There was another bowl on top of the washing machine with a box of cat food beside it. She filled it as well, even though Mike Paul’s mysterious feline had never made an appearance. She figured it must be somewhere.

Quickly, she scribbled a note, then headed toward the door to let the dogs in, but it opened before she was able to. Jacob Clappison walked inside, Weiner and Bun jumping at his feet. He stomped snow from his boots and was in the process of hanging up his winter coat when he spied Ivy.

“Hey,” he said gruffly. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. Jacob snuck a look toward the stairs, and Ivy blushed, then sidestepped him in a bid to grab her jacket and purse. She had no intention of chitchatting with the teenager. She probably smelled like sex. God, she was a walking sex stick.

“Good morning,” she replied brightly. “I was going to check on the barn before I left, but since you’re back, maybe you?—”

“Already done.”

“Okay.” She pasted a smile on her face. “Good.” She pointed to the kitchen. “There’s a note for Mike Paul. Can you let him know it’s there?”

“He’s usually up by now.”

“Right. Um, he’s still asleep.”

The kid didn’t reply and made no effort to hide the sly smile on his face.

With cheeks as bright as the red scarf around her neck, Ivy shrugged into her winter coat. She gave a wave and slipped outside. Thankfully, there’d been no snowfall overnight, so her truck didn’t need to be cleaned off. She let the engine warm up for a minute or so, then backed out and headed for the main road.

She was in a hurry. There were things to do. People to see. An engagement to officially break. Ivy grinned wickedly and turned onto Townline Road. Her mother was going to be pissed, and it shouldn’t give her joy, yet it did.

She chuckled. A lot of it.

There were streaks of yellow on the horizon, dancing above the Rockies, and in the distance, she spied the odd twinkling star. She hummed a tune, her mood light, and by the time she turned onto Dry Creek Road, she was full-on singing one of Cal’s songs, voice high and tinny because, vocally, she sucked. Did she care? Hell no. She turned up the volume and was in the middle of the chorus, singing about swimming holes and daisy dukes, when the words died because she slammed on the brakes so hard she nearly slid into the ditch.

What the hell?

There was a very large, black SUV in her spot. With a frown, she parked beside Kip’s rental and cut the engine, eyes on the house. A soft glow fell from the big window, but with the curtains closed, she couldn’t see inside. The slick vehicle didn’t belong to Cal or Benton or anyone she knew, and she dug through her purse, looking for her cell phone. She’d tossed it inside the previous day on her wild dash to get all the sex and hadn’t so much as taken a peek.

When she did, she wished she hadn’t.

Her stomach turned over. There were several missed calls from Kip. Two from her mother and a couple calls from Millie Sue. She checked her messages. There were some from Kip and even more from her mother. Diedre’s started with the word URGENT. Ivy clicked on the first message.

Don’t be mad .

She immediately closed the chat and clicked on Kip’s profile.

They’re here. They showed up early with your mother. I don’t know how you want to play this. I didn’t have a chance to head them off. FML.

He’d sent the text at nine o’clock the night before. Then, another thirty minutes later.

My parents are staying with your mom. She insisted. Duke and Gramps are here. I haven’t said anything yet. They’re all wondering where you are. I told them you were out with friends.

Panic set in, and she seriously considered driving away. She could go to Millie Sue’s or back to Mike Paul’s or maybe fly to Canada. She could be in Toronto by early afternoon, grab a hotel room, and hide until the Laffertys left Big Bend. Maybe they’d take her mother with them. Maybe they’d keep her.

I wish.

Just then, the front door opened, and Kip appeared, a pained expression on his face. He was dressed casually in steel grey track pants and a white T-shirt. His hair was rumpled as if he’d just rolled out of bed. He gave a small wave, and reluctantly, she slid from the truck and then walked up the driveway to the porch.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was low.

“Are they awake?” she whispered, trying to see around him.

“Duke and Keely are having coffee. Apparently, the mattress in your room isn’t up to their standards. Gramps is still asleep. I put him in the guest room.”

“Where’d you sleep?”

“On the sofa.” He sighed. “Collins is on her way.”

“I thought you were going to call them yesterday.”

“I tried, but they were in the air, and I couldn’t get a hold of anyone.”

Shit. She bit her lip nervously. This hadn’t been on her bingo card when she’d opened her eyes this morning. “I still don’t understand why they came early.”

“Your mother has been in contact with my family.”

“Of course she has.” Angry, Ivy rolled her eyes and gripped her purse so tight her knuckles ached.

“She thought it would be fun to surprise us and have them come early and spend Saturday night together. There was the chocolate thing in town.”

“Chocolate thing? What the hell is the chocolate thing?”

“I have no idea, though she mentioned something about the Shriner club.”

“Big Bend doesn’t have a Shriner club.”

“Then your guess is as good as mine.”

“Who has a chocolate thing three days before Christmas? This isn’t Switzerland.” Her mind raced, trying to come up with something, but it was blank.

“Is that your fiancé?”

Ivy froze. A woman stood just behind Kip.

“Keely, this is Ivy.” Kip moved aside, mouth tight, shoulders hunched a bit.

The woman who stared down at Ivy was tall and slender, with long blonde hair and the kind of body that was either good genetics, or the kind that cost a fortune. She had big boobs, a small waist, rounded hips, and legs any dancer in Vegas would want. She wasn’t thin, and she wasn’t muscular. She was annoyingly perfect. Her eyes were brown, her skin flawless, and her lips were soft and pouty.

The sun had barely risen, yet her full face of makeup enhanced her features subtly. Like she had a glam squad hidden in the house. She was a classic beauty. Checked all the boxes. Yet there was something about her Ivy didn’t like. It was the eyes. They were calculating.

And that made Ivy nervous.

“Hey,” Ivy said, taking the last few steps up until she stood beside Kip. “Sorry I missed your arrival, but we didn’t expect you guys until tonight.”

“No worries,” Keely replied. Her eyes did the once over, moving from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes. She was sharp, this one, and Ivy tugged on her scarf, hoping it hid some of the love marks that had been visible earlier. She pasted a smile on her face and prayed it didn’t look as plastic as it felt.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you guys arrived.”

Kip cleared his throat and motioned her inside. “You ready for a coffee, babe?”

“Sure.” Ivy waited for the woman to disappear and then yanked on Kip’s arm. She whispered fiercely. “Can you smell it on me?”

“Smell what?”

“The sex.”

Kip’s eyes widened, and he tried not to smile but, with a chuckle, leaned forward and inhaled.

“No, Ivy, you don’t smell like sex.”

“Really?”

“Take off your clothes and let me have another sniff.”

“Shut up.”

Kip waited for her to walk past him, and she sailed into the house, not exactly sure what awaited her. She handed him her coat, then she took her time with her boots, hat, and gloves. She wanted to get Kip alone so that they could figure out a plan, but with his brother and ex-girlfriend/new sister-in-law making themselves comfortable in her kitchen, it would have to wait.

She thought longingly of Mike Paul’s bed, then with a sigh banished it from her mind. She cranked her neck, rolled her shoulders, and turned to face the music.

Keely sat on one of the stools, her long legs crossed as if she were posing for a calendar. She wore pale cream tights and a matching jacket that fit like a second skin. On her feet were a comfortable pair of Uggs. The man who stood in the middle of the kitchen was undeniably a Lafferty. He and Kip looked as if they were carved from the same stone, with the cutter using the same tools. The genetics were that strong. A bit older, his features were sharper, and there was some grey at his temples.

He was handsome, no denying that, but there was a coolness to his eyes, a lack of warmth, if you will, and Ivy spotted it right away.

“So, you’re the mysterious Ivy,” he said, taking a few steps forward. He offered his hand, and she shook it. She needed to keep her wits about her.

“I’m Duke.” He winked at Kip, but it was the kind of gesture that was automatic, not sincere. “I’m sure my little brother has told you all about me.”

Little brother? Kip had at least an inch on Duke. Maybe two. Something rose inside Ivy, some fierce need to protect her friend whether he needed it or not.

“Well,” she said softly, walking past the man, “he told me that he has a brother.” She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it before turning to face the couple. “But other than that, I honestly don’t know much about you guys.” She took a sip. “You do something in finance, don’t you? A bank or something?”

“Not quite.” Duke’s smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Wall Street. It’s in New York.”

No shit.

“Is that where it is?” she replied before turning to Keely. “I hear you’re newlyweds.”

“They are,” Kip said, sliding his arm around Ivy’s shoulders. “Still on their honeymoon, from what I understand.”

Duke’s expression faltered for just a second, and Ivy wondered if Kip noticed.

“So, where have you been?” Keely asked. “You’re too pretty to be allowed to stay out all night, and from what I remember, Kip is a tad possessive.”

Duke’s face darkened, and Kip set his gaze on something interesting across the room.

“I’m not Kip’s pet,” Ivy replied. “There’s no leash around my neck.”

“No,” Keely replied. “Just a red scarf.”

Ivy faltered and fought the urge to yank up the scarf. She counted to five and forced herself to relax. There was no way the woman could see all sex evidence on her neck. She’d have to have X-ray vision.

“I had a girl’s night with some friends, and we drank more than we should have. I spent the night at Millie’s.”

“I thought this was Millie’s place.” Keely frowned.

“It is. It’s her old place. She’s letting me stay here while I’m in Montana.”

“You don’t own your own home?”

“No.”

“That’s so, I don’t know.” She raised an imperious eyebrow. “Vagabond.”

Was this woman serious? Vagabond?

“I travel a lot, so it makes sense.” Where was Kip? She needed help.

“It’s too early for an interrogation, Keels.” Kip gave his former flame a warning look. “Who wants eggs?”

“God, not me,” Keely replied, making a face. She moved toward her husband. “I think we’re going to find a hotel in Big Bend. It’s cramped here, and the bed is too small.” She ran her hands down her lower back. “The mattress isn’t close to what I’m used to.” She paused. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Ivy refilled her cup, relieved they weren’t staying. “There’s a Bed & Breakfast in Big Bend, but this close to Christmas, I’m pretty sure they’re full up.” Total bull, but they didn’t have to know it. “Your best bet is probably Bozeman.”

Crap, she should have suggested Billings. It was farther away.

“Bozeman is good,” Duke said. “You’ll look after our grandfather?”

Kip nodded. “Yeah. He’s fine with us.”

The men shook hands awkwardly, and Ivy said nothing as Keely and Duke gathered their overnight bags. They got into their winter gear and were almost out the door when Keely paused.

“You’ll text us the address for the Christmas open house tomorrow afternoon?”

“Will do.”

“And let Mom and Dad know we’ve headed to the city.” Duke closed the door behind them and Ivy let out a long breath.

“That was fun,” Ivy said, sliding onto the sofa. She scrunched her nose. “What open house?”

“Huh?” Kip was in another world entirely, stirring a spoon in his coffee and staring out the window.

“The Christmas Eve open house? Where is it, and why are they coming?”

“It’s at the Bridgestone ranch. Millie Sue called the house to remind us of it because she couldn’t get a hold of you.”

Great. That’s what all the messages on her cell were about.

“Dammit. I forgot about that.” She sat up. “This is a mess. What are we going to do? Why did my mother have to poke her nose into our business? She always makes things worse.”

Kip shrugged and sighed. “This whole thing is a heaping pile of shit. What the hell were we thinking?” He swore and looked up at the ceiling, clearly frustrated.

“We weren’t.” She grimaced. “At least I wasn’t. I wanted you here, and I was selfish to let it happen.”

“And you no longer need a buffer?” Kip finally cracked a smile and pointed to her neck. “Do you want to get rid of the scarf now?”

Ivy blushed. “I think I’ll wait. Your grandfather is still here.”

“Shit. Right,” Kip’s voice softened. “He’s looking forward to meeting the woman who finally tamed his wild grandson. It was nice to see him happy.” Kip glanced away. “And he looks good, all considering.”

“Then don’t disappoint him.” She jumped off the sofa and walked over to Kip. “Let’s get through Christmas, and then we can tell everyone we’ve decided to postpone things. There won’t be a reason for your family to stay, and once they’re gone, we’ll end things. Tell everyone that we work better as friends and go about our lives. You’re headed to Florida for spring training in a couple of months, and I’ll be busy with Cal and the band and rehearsals and?—”

“Mike Paul?”

Her blush deepened. “That’s the plan.”

“We’ll keep the status quo for now. But only if that’s what you want, Ivy. I’m fine ending it right now.”

She nodded. “It is.”

“Good morning.” The voice was gruff as if ill-used.

“Hey, Gramps,” Kip said. They both turned around. “This is Ivy.”

An older man stood at the kitchen island. He had a full head of silver hair with bushy eyebrows to match. He was still tall for a man his age, though thin. His clothes hung off of him. His eyes were kind, his face lined from life, and his love for his grandson was obvious. She saw Kip in his face and her reaction was immediate.

“Hello,” she said softly.

It was only two days. She could do this for Kip.

Ivy offered a smile, and the countdown began.