Alder

I t’s four days until Christmas and four since the tree lighting. I have a list of things to accomplish, and at the top is to finish gift shopping and wrap the ones I already have. Thankfully, I have a few things already ordered for Hazel and Mom. We have a predicted two feet of snow on the way, so tonight may be the only option for leaving my house until Christmas day. I was already planning on this shopping trip when Knox called and asked if I could watch Hazel for him and then take her to Mom and Dad’s, so now, it’s date night with my favorite girl. I’m pulling on my boots when there’s a knock on my door. I’m not expecting anyone, but that doesn’t always stop any member of the Holloway family from coming over unannounced.

I lace my boots up, and as I’m walking from the couch to the front door, I catch a flash of purple in the window, and my heartbeat picks up. Is this a Pavlov situation? Because that’s going to be really annoying. I open the door, and there on my front porch, looking like she’s been conjured from my dreams, is Ivy Rutherford.

“Hi,” she greets me. A small smile on her lips. “Sorry to just stop by.” Looking me up and down, her cheeks are tinged pink, she asks, “Are you going somewhere?”

“I am,” I tell her. If she wants to know, she’ll have to ask.

“Okay, I’ll be quick then. I’m sure you’re busy. I am too. Busy. I have a lot to get done. Which is why I’m here.” Her small ramble makes me unhealthily happy.

“Go on,” I encourage. Her eyes are starting to smolder. She’s wising up to my game. Play with me, princess.

“I’m hosting an event on New Year’s Eve at The Edgemont,” she says forcefully, like I might question her on it. “I’m hosting an event,” she starts again. “It’s a silent auction, and there will be live music and dancing.” She rushes the information out. Like if she were to slow down, I might interrupt her. I wouldn’t. I like listening to her. And I’ve been thinking about hosting an event at The Lodge for some time.

“That sounds like a great idea,” I say. “Do you need my help with something?” I’m not an event planner, but I’ve organized town events before. I can also put you in touch with the town's event committee if you want and see if they would be interested in co-hosting. Cross marketing. That sort of thing.” Her face changes from one of a soldier ready for battle to a softer look of confusion as I offer to help. She should know by now that I like helping her.

She takes a big breath in through her nose before speaking. “That would be great actually. Thank you.” I can tell by the reluctant thank you that she doesn’t like saying it and definitely doesn’t give them out often.

“Of course. Anything else?” I don’t mean for it to sound as short as it does.

Clearing her throat, she answers, “No, no, that’s all. I was just going to see if you thought I could promote it at AJ’s in town, but I’m sure I’ll get it figured out. I’ll let you get going.” She peeks over my shoulder into my home, and I suddenly feel like a dick. I should have invited her inside. Instead, I’ve made her stand outside in the cold when I knew it was already hard for her to come here and ask something of me. She turns to leave, and I open my mouth to apologize for not inviting her in, but she’s already turning, and words are being asked.

“Where are you going?” she calls out, and I can’t help but bite my lip. I think she cares about my answer.

“Worried about me going on a date, Stormcloud?” That earns me an Olympic gold medal eye roll.

“No, . I’m not worried about you doing anything,” she tells me, bristling. “I was just curious. You look…”

“Good?” I supply. She looks up to the sky, tilting her whole head.

“Nice.” Is her begrudging reply. I’ll fucking take it.

“Thank you, Miss Rutherford. You look nice too,” I compliment her. Which is mostly a lie. She looks like I want to bury my hands in her hair and bruise her mouth with mine.

“Thank you…so, where are you going if it’s not a date?” She smiles, asking me again. I hope she’s jealous. I want her to be jealous.

“It is a date.” I can’t help but tease her. I like getting her all worked up. I want to let her take it out on me. Her smile turns to ice. Frozen in place, but I can practically feel her teeth grinding. “With my niece,” I add, putting her out of her misery. “Knox is working on a case and has to be gone for the night, so I’m taking Hazel with me and dropping her off at my parents’ tonight.” I lean against the door frame and smile widely at her.

She bites her bottom lip at the corner, trying to hide her smile. I see it though. I see her. “I see. Well, I hope you have a good time then. Bye, .” She turns to leave again, but something in me just isn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet.

“Do you want to come with us?” I call, and she whips her head around, eyes wide, questioning. “That way, I don’t have to worry about you getting out in the next few days trying to get any last-minute shopping done. The weather that they’re predicting coming in isn’t something you want to be caught out in.” I try to say this in a teasing way, but I mean it. It happens more frequently than anyone knows. You’re heading down the road in the morning, and the next thing you know, you’re caught in a whiteout with no sense of direction.

“I can?—”

“—take care of yourself,” I cut in. “I know, princess, and I believe it. The point remains the same. You haven't experienced it, and I have. It’s not something to leave to chance. So, what do you say? Wanna spend the day with me and Hazel? I’ll take you to the grocery store so you can get more oranges,” I offer. She looks surprised at that.

“I do need more oranges,” she says. “Fine, I’ll go. I wouldn’t want to get caught out in a blizzard.” She sighs. “Just let me stop by my cabin and get my bag.”

“I’ll drive you. We can stop on the way.” I grab my keys and coat from the hook by the entrance and walk out the door, twisting the lock on the handle before closing it. She walks to my old Bronco. It’s a faded green. I’m sure it used to be a shiny forest. The color now looks like Ivy’s eyes, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to think of that color as anything but hers ever again.

Ivy opens the passenger door and hops in, slamming it behind her. I wanted to get it for her, but I also didn’t want to fight with her about how capable she is of doing it herself. I like the way she looks in my space though. More than I should. I rub the back of my neck, trying to change the direction of my thoughts.

The only problem is all my thoughts eventually circle back to the redhead, with a penchant for purple, sitting in my faded-green Bronco. I wonder if she’s even been in a vehicle this old. I’m sure she’s used to new and shiny and sleek. I did a little research on the Rutherford name after I found out who she was. She comes from plenty of money. Her father is a big name in Northern California. I’m not sure why she’s here instead of back there running one of his other businesses, but I’m definitely not complaining.

We drive in companionable silence for the couple of minutes it takes to get to her cabin. I’d like to ask her things; I want to get to know her. I mean, that’s allowed, right? If I’m going to be her pretend boyfriend at some point, I should probably know something about her life. I slow to a stop when her driveway comes into view. She gets out and jogs up to the front door with the big green wreath that has cream and red bows on it. She disappears into the small cabin for only a moment, and then she’s back out. I’ve passed this cabin more times than I can count, but seeing it today brings a smile to my face—knowing she’s there. Here. On my mountain at my lodge.

I take an extra-long moment to appreciate her. She’s wearing a purple corduroy coat with a wool collar, tan pants, and a sweater that’s also tan but lighter. Her boots are like the ones I got Florence for her birthday a couple of months ago. They won’t be keeping the snow out. My baby sister balked when I brought that up to her, insisting they were worn for aesthetics. Whatever that means. I lean across the bench seat and swing the passenger door open for her. It feels like a win, and I have to hide my grin when she gets in without commenting on it.

“Where to first?” Ivy asks, stirring me from my victory.

“We’ll head into town to pick up Hazey from Knox’s office. I thought I would take her by Winnie’s bakery to get her a hot chocolate before we head to the shops. Does that work for you?”

“Yeah.” I look over to her smiling at me. It looks sweet. I like that look. I want her to look at me like that more often. “What’s that face for?” I grin into my question.

“Nothing,” she says, sobering slightly. “You’re just like some kind of super uncle, aren’t you?” She shrugs it off, but I can tell she’s a little surprised by my love for my family. That thought leads me to believe she doesn’t feel the same way about her family.

“You don’t have any nieces or nephews then?”

“Nope. I’m an only child, and my dad was one also, so no cousins either.” She runs her shiny green fingernails up and down the sides of her legs. A nervous habit, maybe. I can tell that talking about her family sets her on edge. She’s fidgety, and I don’t know her well, but fidgeting isn’t a word I’d use to describe Ivy. Most of the time, I get the impression she’s sure of herself because she’s had to be. I respect her for that, but I also wish she knew that leaning on others isn’t the sign of weakness she makes it out to be.

“Only child, huh? What that must be like. With my two brothers and a baby sister, you haven’t met her yet, there was always someone around while I was growing up,” I tell her in hopes she’ll keep being open.

“I wouldn’t know about any of that. There was no noise in the house I grew up in.” I don't miss the way she says house and not home.

“That sounds a little lonely.” She surprises me with a little breathy laugh.

“It wasn’t all that bad. Don’t feel sorry for me.” She snorts. “I had everything I ever wanted. You’ve obviously sensed that about me,” she says, holding her hand out between us. Her comment throws me a little.

“What is it that I’ve sensed about you?” I’m curious to know what she’s thinking.

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you don’t think I’m a spoiled brat and like you haven’t thought it from the very first time we interacted. I know what you must have thought. If I’m being honest, I also know that I wasn’t having the best day or week or month or year.” She mumbles the last bit, but I hear her perfectly.

“I admit to thinking your attitude was a little high and mighty. High maintenance?—”

“I am high maintenance,” she cuts in. “I’m not ashamed to say that.”

“You don’t need to be. There’s nothing wrong with demanding to be treated in a way you want to be treated,” I say, and I wish I could see her while I’m talking to her. Ivy’s hard to read even when you can see her face. I’m completely in the dark here.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Holloway,” she hedges, “but you know, someone at school keeps calling me princess. ” I laugh. Loudly. Her smart mouth is so sexy. Out of the brief exchanges I’ve had with Ivy, I know she has this quick and dry sense of humor, and even though it’s new, it feels like my exact brand. I want her to tease me. I want her to be mean to me. As long as she’ll keep talking to me.

“I’m not going to pretend like I don’t think you’re a brat, Ivy.” She doesn’t respond, so I continue, “You are, but that’s not why I started calling you that.” We’ve reached downtown, so I slow down and take the last few turns to Knox’s office. She sighs.

“I’m assuming you’re going to tell me, even though I bet I can guess. Maybe because I was a bitch on the bunny hill that day. I know that. You know that. I get it. I don’t often make a good impression. I wouldn’t say I always make the best first impression but chewing you out because you were trying to make sure a small child didn’t get hurt or sick…I’ve made better impressions, believe it or not.” God, I think I love it when she’s rambling, even if she refuses to bring up our actual first meeting. Her rambling gives me an inside track to her brain, and I want to be there more than anything.

“You weren’t a bitch, Ivy, and to be even more fair, I tackled you to the ground.” I laugh, and she joins me. We get quiet, and I park on the street in front of the office. I don’t need to tell her why, but I want to. I don’t want her to think anything other than good things when she hears me call her that. “The reason I called you princess ,” I say into the silence, heart beating out of my chest, “is because from the moment you stepped into AJ’s and sat down next to me, you could have ordered me to do anything, Ivy. I was yours to command. Sit. Stand. Lie Down. I would have done it. In a heartbeat.”