Chapter 21

Ivy had been dodging Mike Paul all day, and he didn’t like it one bit. What the hell was up with that? They’d spent an amazing night together—the kind of night women read about in those romance books—and he’d woken up alone. It wasn’t something he was used to, and with a frown, he fingered the piece of paper in his hand. He’d read it so many times he could recite it word for word.

Hey, I didn’t want to wake you. But I had to get back to the house and take care of a few things. Last night was incredible. Talk soon. Xo, Ivy

He’d read it over at least one hundred times. She’d used the word incredible, so that was good, right? But the note was short and didn’t say much beyond that they’d talk. With a sigh, he tossed the paper onto the counter and stared at it. Then glanced up at the clock.

“It’s only five minutes later than the last time,” Jacob said from his perch near the fireplace. Weiner and Bun were at his feet, and he paused the game he’d been playing online.

“What’s that?”

“You keep looking at the clock.”

It was Sunday evening. He hadn’t heard her voice. Or smelled her smell. Or touched her skin in over twelve hours. And the avoiding thing he could do without. He had more unanswered calls than wanted to admit to. Calls that she would reply to with short text messages that told him nothing. It was the same bullshit over and over.

I’ve got some things to take care of.

We’ll talk tomorrow.

Don’t read anything into this. We’re good, I promise.

How did a man handle this stuff because he sure as shit had no clue. It was new territory for him. He sat at the kitchen island and tried to think of another time a woman had turned him inside out. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it had never happened—nor until last year when he and Ivy had first hooked up.

“Why don’t you go see her?” Jacob had returned to his game and was in the middle of killing a horde of aliens. He didn’t bother to glance up.

“Just drive over to her place,” Mike Paul replied dryly. “Show up unannounced.”

“Yeah.” The kid gave him a look that said, duh, you’re an idiot , and shrugged. “It’s what I’d do.”

Since when did Mike Paul Darlington take female advice from a seventeen-year-old boy with less hair on his face than he had on his balls?

“I mean, you like her, don’t ya?”

“I love her.” The admission caught Mike Paul by surprise, not because he’d said the words—he’d told Ivy as much the night before—but because he’d said them out loud in a room occupied by someone other than him and Ivy. The teen stopped his game and glanced over.

“Then why are you still here?”

Good question. “It’s late.”

“So?” Jake was back to his game. “Girls like that stuff.”

“What stuff is that?”

“Grand gestures. In junior year I liked this girl who was into butterflies. It’s all she talked about. I ordered a bunch online and released them in her backyard.”

“She liked the butterflies.”

“Heck yeah.” Jacob nodded and smiled. “And I made it to second base.”

It was pushing eleven o’clock in the evening. He fingered the letter again and pictured the way her eyes shone. Then he thought of how her nose crinkled when he kissed her. And how sweet it had been to have her in his bed, lying next to him.

He looked at the clock once more and, before he could talk himself out of it, hopped off the stool and grabbed his coat. He pulled on his boots and scooped his hat from the bin.

“Can you look after the animals tomorrow morning?”

“Yep.”

“The goats need?—”

“I know they need their meds.”

“And the horses?—”

“I got it.” Jacob shook his head, clearly irritated. “Just go already.”

The teenager had grown on him, no doubt about it. He had no idea how long this situation would last, but he didn’t hate it. An unfamiliar feeling crept over Mike Paul. It was warm and kind of fuzzy. Jacob looked up just then, and with a knot in his throat, Mike Paul gave a small nod. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

An eye-roll and a grunt was Jake’s reply.

The night was quiet and clear. That big Montana sky made a man feel small, and Mike Paul thought about that as he hopped in his truck. He headed down the lane and then took a right. Living in this corner of the world was a gift. He’d grown up surrounded by the Rockies and Yellowstone and a network of family and friends he wouldn’t trade for anything.

He was a lifer. Always had been.

But where was Ivy’s head at? She’d left Big Bend right after graduation without so much as a goodbye. Had up and disappeared one night with Cal, and that was it. Until recently, she hadn’t spent much time back here. But he supposed she hadn’t had a reason to. Would she stay now? If he asked her? Was he being weird thinking about these things when they’d only just gotten together?

Shit, he thought, this relationship stuff wasn’t easy. He didn’t have much time to ponder the fact that he’d just used the word relationship because he pulled into Ivy’s driveway and turned off his truck.

The house was in darkness. He frowned when he spied Lafferty’s rental. Why was he still here? Just knowing the man occupied the same space as Ivy riled him up, and Mike Paul slid from the truck. Snow crunched underfoot as he carefully made his way up the steps. He tried the door, but it was locked.

Shit. Did he bang on it? He glanced around, suddenly unsure, but then spied the cast iron dog that sat in the corner of the porch. Millie Sue always kept a spare key hidden under the right paw. Was it still there? He lifted it and smiled when he spied the key. Exactly ten seconds later, he was inside the house.

It took a bit for his eyes to adjust, and when they did, he saw someone sleeping on the sofa. It was too big to be Ivy, and he assumed it was Lafferty. There was an empty bottle of JD on the table next to it, and Mike Paul figured he was sleeping off a bad night.

Carefully, he removed his boots and then headed for the bedroom at the end of the hall, where he paused. Maybe this was a bad idea, creeping around Ivy’s place in the middle of the night. He glanced around, more than a little unsure of himself, but then realized that there was no way he was leaving until he saw her. Today had been strange.

He opened the door and let himself inside her bedroom. She was asleep on her side, her hands curled up underneath her cheek. One of her legs poked out from underneath the covers, that dainty ankle taunting him as he moved closer.

She was beautiful. Her nose. Her dimple. The long lashes that feathered her cheeks as she slept.

Mike Paul couldn’t help himself. He reached down and gently swept a lock of hair off of her forehead. When her eyes opened, he froze. For a moment, she was confused, but then a slow smile spread across her face, and his heart did that weird, jumping thing again. It knocked around inside him, pounding so damn hard he was sure she heard it.

“Hey,” she said softly, sitting up. Her eyes were sleep-heavy, which somehow made her look sexier than ever. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t not see you after last night.” He exhaled and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going crazy, here, Wilkens. You’ve been avoiding me, and I want to know why. Are you second-guessing what we did? Do you regret it?”

She grabbed his hand. “I’m not,” she replied breathlessly. “Second-guessing anything. I just…I’ve got some stuff to deal with, and I’ll tell you about it, but…” Her voice trailed off, and he moved closer.

“But we’re good?” Her mouth was inches from his.

“Yes,” she whispered. “More than good.”

It was too much for Mike Paul. He dipped his head and claimed her lips. Lightly, at first, but then she opened for him, and he deepened the kiss, that animal part of him roaring to life as he pressed her backward. He sank his hands into Ivy’s hair and held her in place while he ravaged her mouth until, breathless, he pulled away and then licked his way down her neck.

She moaned beneath him, her fingers tugging on his clothes as she began to squirm and pant.

“We can stop,” he said roughly, pulling back so he could see her properly. “I didn’t come here for a booty call.”

“I don’t believe you.” She licked her bottom lip suggestively. “I think this is exactly what you pictured when you walked into my house.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong. “We can talk if that’s what you want. Just tell me.”

“Talking is overrated.” Her voice was so low he barely heard her.

There were no words for what he felt. At least not the right ones, so Mike Paul said nothing. He tossed his coat and the rest of his clothes onto the floor while she ripped off her camisole and panties.

He kissed his woman until she moaned his name and arched her hips against him suggestively. When she rolled over and got onto all fours, he was nearly done for. The sight of her perfect, round ass and her swollen sex all but made him come on the spot. He had to take a step back and get his shit together.

“I didn’t bring anything.” Shit. Fuck. Damn.

“Top draw. Nightstand,” she whispered hoarsely as she gyrated her hips and arched her butt higher.

Mike Paul dove for the nightstand. He found the foil wrapper and then rolled the condom down his dick. He grabbed her hip with one hand and ran his other up along the curve of her back until he took hold of her shoulder.

He sank into her. Let her take every inch that he had and then held her still, smiling when she made those mewing sounds that drove him crazy.

“Don’t make me wait,” she purred.

He leaned forward and bit into her shoulder. A light touch, but one that made her hiss. And moan. And swear.

“Ask nicely,” he growled, close to her ear. “And I’ll make last night seem like second best.”

“Please,” she gasped. “Now.”

It was all he needed. Mike Paul slowly withdrew and then eased inside once more. She was so wet and ready, and every time she moaned, his cock twitched, shooting pleasure up his body until he thrummed with it. He began to thrust, slowly at first, and then as she moved with him, harder and faster. Their bodies, slick with sweat, were in sync in a way he’d never experienced with anyone else.

Mike Paul was done. There would never be another woman for him. Not ever. As they raced toward the finish line, he held on, eyes glued to the small pink mark on her shoulder. A mark he’d put there. Like an animal. She was his, and he was never letting go.

They climaxed together and fell back onto the bed. Mike Paul immediately pulled her into his arms, and for the longest time, neither said a word. It took a bit for them to catch their breath and for their heart rates to normalize. When they did, Ivy kissed him.

“We might have to try one more time,” she murmured against his mouth.

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “I’m not sure if that was better than yesterday.”

“Huh.” He hadn’t even taken off the condom and already was getting hard. “You want me to do the thing with my mouth where I?—”

“Yes, please,” she replied quickly, already reaching for him. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to get much sleep.

Hours later, when the light outside was beginning to brighten the room, he got out of bed. Ivy was fast asleep, a half-smile still on her face, and he felt like a king, knowing he’d put it there. Mike Paul pulled on his boxers and headed for the kitchen. He was hungry and thought he’d put together a spread for the two of them. Whistling to himself, he walked into the kitchen and found it already occupied.

Shit. He’d forgotten about the Yankee.

Kip Lafferty stood by the sink. Dressed the same as Mike Paul, he glanced over and didn’t seem surprised to see him. “I’m making coffee,” he said, voice a little rough. “You interested?”

Mike Paul nodded. He spied a box of donuts on the counter and helped himself to a couple before grabbing a stool at the island. Now, Mike Paul was more than a little curious as to why Lafferty and Ivy had come up with such an insane idea, faking an engagement, but no way in hell was he asking the athlete.

He was fine being civil. For whatever reason Ivy liked him, so it was the least Mike Paul could do.

Kip poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Mike Paul before rummaging in the fridge for cream. He set that on the counter along with a small bowl of sugar and stepped back. The two men sipped from their mugs, taking stock of each other from their respective corners like boxers in the ring.

“You’re still here,” Mike Paul said after a while. “Thought you’d be gone.”

Kip cracked his neck and set his mug down. “At least for a couple of days. Maybe more.” Lafferty took a beat. “Look, I haven’t known Ivy for nearly as long as you. But in a short time, she’s come to mean a lot to me.”

“Good to know.” Mike Paul kept his tone light, though his back was up. He didn’t like where this was going and he sure as hell didn’t feel like discussing Ivy with him.

“I hope you know this situation between you two isn’t something she’s treating lightly. It means something to her.”

That back of his, already up, straightened, and Mike Paul’s fingers tightened around his mug. He wanted to smash it across Lafferty’s face. Where the hell did he get off? He’d known Ivy for a minute.

“Thanks for your concern,” Mike Paul replied. “But just so we’re clear?” He leaned forward, deadly serious. “I would never disrespect Ivy. I would never hurt her. I would never lie to her. And none of that is any of your business.”

“It might not be,” Kip replied, taking a step forward. “But I’m making it my business.”

“It’s hard to breathe in here, boys,” Ivy said, walking into the kitchen. “On account of all that testosterone.”

At the sight of her, the animal inside of Mike Paul rose to the surface, and it took everything he had not to walk over to her and grab her up. To not bury his nose in her hair and kiss her until she sighed from pleasure. To n ot put his mark on her again. To not beat Kip Lafferty to a pulp and toss his ass outside.

Tarzan move, for sure, but it was looking good to him right about now.

Instead, he got to his feet and offered a smile. “Hey, you,” he said, watching her closely. Her eyes melted, and she licked her bottom lip. Was it on purpose? Did she want to drive him fucking crazy?

“Hey,” she replied.

Kip made a sound of disgust.

Ivy stretched like a cat.

Mike Paul decided he was taking her back to bed. And he would have done exactly that, except Kip cock-blocked him.

“Ivy, my grandfather will be up soon. Maybe your boyfriend should leave now.”

Boyfriend? He glared at him and took a step forward, but then Ivy was in front of him, her soft hands on his chest, those big eyes of hers asking him to stop.

“I’m sorry, but Kip’s right. His grandfather is staying here, and we haven’t told him about us. This.” She swore and looked away.

Mike Paul had some questions—more than one— but he started with the obvious. “What’s there to explain? This screwed-up thing you two concocted is over.”

“It’s not that simple.” Ivy tugged on his arm. “And keep your voice down. We don’t want to wake him up.”

“Why is his grandfather staying with you?”

Ivy’s face fell, and she cleared her throat. “His whole family is here. His parents are staying with my mom, and his brother is at a hotel in Bozeman.”

He had nothing for that. What in the actual fuck?

“My mom…well she…” Ivy looked up at the ceiling. She took a deep breath. “She does what she always does. Pokes that nose of hers where it’s not wanted. She invited them to Montana and didn’t tell us. We thought we’d have time to deal with this and?—”

“Deal with this?” Anger lit a fire in his gut. “You two aren’t a thing.”

“I know that, but they don’t, and they’re here, and it’s complicated, and I told you to lower your voice.”

“This is insane.” He turned to Lafferty. “Am I the only one who realizes that?”

“Ivy, we can end this now. That was the plan all along.”

“No.” She turned to Kip and shook her head. “Your family flew all this way, and your grandfather is the sweetest man, and it’s Christmas.” She looked at Mike Paul. “It’s only a few more days. We just need to get through tonight and tomorrow. Kip’s family will leave, and then…”

“Then what?” Mike Paul asked, doing his best not to lose his shit.

“Then we can figure things out.” She exhaled and tried to smile. “We can figure us out.”

Figure us out? He was all in. Didn’t she know that?

His good mood long gone, Mike Paul moved past her and strode to the bedroom. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he pulled on his jeans and then spent too much time searching for his T-shirt until he realized she was still wearing it.

“Hey,” she said when he turned to leave her bedroom. “Please don’t be mad. This is something we’ll laugh about one day.”

“You think so?” He walked down the hall and ignored Lafferty. “Because I’m not so sure.”

“Don’t leave mad.”

Mike Paul ignored her and shrugged into his jacket.

“I’ll see you tonight at the Triple B?”

His jaw was clamped so tight it ached, but he managed a reply. “I don’t know. We’ll see.” Then he yanked open the front door and jogged to his truck. He was jacked up on anger. Confused as hell. And cold to boot.

His cell phone pinged. It was his mother.

I expect to see you in church for the Christmas Eve service. Not negotiable.

Fuck. Me.

He backed out of the driveway and pointed his truck toward home. He had low expectations for the day, and as he flew down the road, Mike Paul had no idea what was in store for him. Because his day was about to get worse, and it was the kind of day that changed a man. The kind of day a man didn’t see coming.

The kind of day he might not survive.