Ivy

T onight has gone better than I ever dreamed. The people of Silverthorne have been incredibly gracious and generous. I’ve felt the spirit of their community from the day I arrived here, from graciously hosting me to my car sliding off the road, but tonight—tonight, this community has raised $250,000. All while embracing my idea and, in turn, making me feel like I matter here. I’m blown away.

Even though the evening is coming to a close, there are still a few people out on the dance floor. I’ve been a little envious of all the guests experiencing it, but I’m also so grateful to have hosted this evening and watching my vision become a reality. It’s a little bittersweet to see this whole community come to support my cause because this event brings me one step closer to leaving.

“Thank you for coming,” I say for the hundredth time. You would think I was getting tired of saying it by now, but I’m not. I truly am so incredibly grateful. This event is going to get me one step closer to my end goal of running something that’s all mine. My calls with my father lately have been short. Brief and to the point. My father isn’t a kind man, but he does keep his word. If he says that the company will be mine, I’m inclined to believe him.

I walk up the stairs and out onto the deserted balcony. I let out a sigh, and a smile tugs at my lips. Tonight went well. Really well , and I’m proud. The moon is casting light onto the snow, and it makes it look like it’s glowing. I lean against the railing and take in the view. I’ve been in such constant motion for the last month that I haven’t taken enough time to really enjoy the environment I’m in.

“You were amazing tonight, and your speech was really good. I know it touched a lot of people,” a voice that I could and have conjured in my sleep says close to my ear. Too close to my ear. I meant what I told him at the beginning of the night. Alder is attractive. Gorgeous. And he’s kind and endearingly goofy. But it would never work between us. Dating men like Alder feels like too much, or rather, might make me feel too much. Not only that, but he lives here. His whole life is here, and it’s a beautiful life. But it’s not mine. My life is in California, and as much as I wish I could run away from all the things I’ve left behind me there—I can’t.

I would never trust myself to be the kind of woman he needs. He’s too warm. I’m so cold I’d give him frostbite.

“Thank you, and thank you for being by my side tonight.” And I mean it.

“Anytime. It looks like Noah and Margot left early. Are you planning on being here a while? I’ll stay and help,” he offers. He’s so sweet.

“Yes, I’ll be here for a while. I should probably oversee the cleanup process and make sure everyone gets paid. You don’t have to stay though. You’ve helped me out enough for one evening.” I give him my sweetest smile.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone, . Not with that prick hanging around.” God, he is so protective over me, a woman he barely knows. I can’t imagine how he’ll be when he has a wife and kids one day. That thought hits me like a freight train. Kids . Just another reason it would never work between us. He’s going to make an amazing dad one day. I don’t even know if I can have kids after my surgery. That thought takes me back to darker days.

“Mrs. James? Are you awake?” a man’s voice asks.

“I think so.” I hear myself croak in return.

“The surgery was successful, Mrs. James. I would like to express again how sorry I am for your loss,” he offers.

“, please.” Being called Mrs. James feels wrong.

“There were no complications, but while performing the surgery, we discovered that you have a blockage in your left fallopian tube; it's no small miracle you were able to conceive at all,” he informs me.

“A blockage? What exactly does that mean?” Confusion is the prominent feeling mixed with only a bit of pain.

“It means that it’s not impossible, but it does make getting pregnant again unlikely. Now, there are treatments and procedures.” He continued speaking, but somewhere after the word “unlikely,” it started sounding like he was speaking to me from underwater .

A pain that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy washes over me, and I suck in a breath.

“? Are you okay?” Alder steps closer to me, but I hold up my hand. I don’t want to be comforted by him again. It feels too good, and I can’t let myself get used to his support, his easy-going kindness that I’m beginning to depend on. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a crinkly plastic bag, and hands it to me. It’s peach rings. I look at him curiously.

“I know it’s not candied orange peels, but I wanted to have something on hand if you needed it,” he tells me simply. My throat begins to burn, starting from the base of my neck, and then traveling up to behind my eyes. He’s too sweet for me. He’s too kind. He’s too good. But I want him right now. I want to consume him and see if he tastes as sweet as he acts or if he tastes like the faint coffee scent that I’m always getting a whiff of when he walks by. This is absolutely a mistake, and I don’t really care about me, but it’s really not fair to him.

I kiss him—hard. I let all the pent-up sexual frustration he causes me out and throw it into this kiss. He opens his mouth, and I lick the inside of his lower lip before sucking it into mine and nipping it. He groans, then pushes me back against the railing of the balcony we’re on, kissing the ever-loving shit out of me. He matches me bite for bite, lick for suck. I’m panting and melting into him. I assumed it would be me devouring and spitting this man out when I was done, but I have a small fear I’m working hard to push down that’s telling me this kiss. This kiss is going to ruin me.

“Alder.”

“Yes, princess?”

“You’re not my type, and I’m not what you want.” I pant and grind into him until I can feel his hardness through his suit pants. He opens his mouth to protest but I silence him with a look. I want to lay it all out there. He needs to know the facts. “I’m here for maybe two more months, then I’m leaving. I’m not nice, and I’m not good for you.” He rolls his baby blues, and his lips part, so I press my finger to his mouth, stilling his words. His eyes heat, and that heat stokes the fire I’m barely keeping at bay.

“If we do this.” He inclines his head. Just inches from mine now. “It’s casual,” I tell him. “No one catches feelings, and no one gets blindsided when I leave. Can you handle that, Lover Boy?” My question hangs between us. It’s heavy, and I’m ready to strip right here and now if he agrees to my terms.

“I can do this however you want, . But I need you to do something for me.” He reaches up and slides his hand around my throat till it rests in the hair at the nape of my neck, cradling my head and causing delicious tension between my legs. I want him. More than I will ever admit.

“What do you need me to do?” I ask, breathless and not caring.

“If we do this, however casual you want, it’s still exclusive. I won’t share you. I won’t have you and know you’re with other men.”

“Who else would I be with?” I ask him, confused.

“No one. You won’t be with anyone if you’re with me.”

“Are you a little territorial, Lover Boy? Are you going to throw me over your shoulder and drag me back to your cave?”

“If that’s what gets you going, I’ll carry a club too.” I let out a throaty chuckle at that. “I’ll do this your way, but it’s just me for you, . No one else.” I think over his words. There’s no one else here I’d want to be with romantically or sexually, but I also don’t tell him that. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, and Alder is exactly the type to get the wrong idea.

“Fine,” I grind out while also grinding myself harder into him. He takes my hand and kisses the pads of my fingers. No one has ever done that, and it’s oddly erotic. Why aren’t more men kissing women’s fingers? My mind is a jumbled mess of horny and uncomfortably romantic thoughts that I want to explore with the man in front of me.

He’s going to take me to bed, and I’m going to get what I want from him, and then tomorrow, it will all be out of my system. “So, my place or yours?” I ask, and he chuckles and leans in to kiss my swollen lips. It lacks some of the passion from before, and when I make a move to deepen it, he pulls back just enough to move his mouth to my ear.

“Not tonight, ,” he says, kissing my neck.

“Why not tonight?” I ask somewhere between a gasp and a pant.

“Tonight, you’re going to give me this dance,” he tells me, pulling me from the railing deeper into him. “Because I’ve wanted to dance with you in this dress all night. Then I’m going to take you home and kiss you goodnight. If you feel the same tomorrow, then we’ll be having a different conversation,” he promises as he spins me away and then back to him. The music that’s playing over the outdoor speakers is soft, but Alder hums along with it. It’s an older song. His favorite kind. I love, and I hate that I know this about him. That and the fact that he won’t be taking me to bed tonight is irritating.

“So, when you say you’ll do this my way, you actually meant that we’ll be doing this your way?” I snipe, and he laughs as he pulls me across the balcony, perfectly leading us in a waltz .

“No, princess. We’ll do this your way; we just won’t be doing it tonight. Tomorrow, we have another snowboarding lesson. You showed a lot of potential in our last session.” I roll my eyes at that and can’t stop my laugh.

“No, I didn’t. You are such a liar.”

“I’m not lying. I was surprised it was your first time on a board.” I laugh harder.

“It wasn’t the first time actually. The first time I tried to stand up on a snowboard, I fell backward on my ass and thought I was going to break my ankles.” It had been on a class trip to a ski resort in Northern California, and I found out Thomas “Tommy” Caldwell had cheated on me with Rebecca Sampson. It wasn’t the best introduction to snowboarding.

“It sounds like maybe you just needed a more competent teacher,” he says, holding me closer. I let him. I want to be even closer.

“It’s a good thing I have you for now, then, isn’t it?” I tease.

“I’m hoping a very good thing, ,” he whispers, and I hum in response. Letting Alder in, even a small amount, is something I’m not sure I’m ready for. I’ve already had a taste of him. I’m unsure if I’ll be able to give up the rush that comes with being with him. His attention and affection alone are so consuming.

We dance for another song before walking out of the big lodge and toward my cabin. Alder is still humming, sometimes singing softly. Over the last month, I’ve come to love the sound of his voice. He’s one of those people who’s always singing or humming or making up a song about the most inane tasks. It used to wear on my nerves, but this week, I heard him singing about putting away the snowboarding equipment and found it incredibly charming. I don’t even think he knows he’s doing it. I’m in danger here. I’m playing with fire, but something tells me the burns would be worth it to let his flames lick at me again.

After dropping off the checks with the caterer, we walk the short distance to my cabin. When we arrive at my door, I’m reluctant to let him go. This is not at all how I envisioned my time here or even how I thought my night would go. In one evening, I have swung from one end to the other on the pendulum that is my attraction to Alder Holloway. Telling him he’s not my type to practically begging him to take me to bed, and now, preparing for a night alone. I’ve never had to go to bed alone if I didn’t want to. Not since I got out of my marriage to Noah. Something about that unsettles me.

“I’ll see you in the morning, ,” Alder says, interrupting my internal struggle. “We’ll be out at Lovers Leap, so I want to get an early start. I’ll be here at five, be ready.” He pulls me into his warmth. I’m always so warm with him around. He really is sunshine personified.

“Five o’clock, huh? Will the snow not wait until seven?”

“It takes some time to get up there, and I want you to see the sunrise from the gondola.” That surprises me, and I pull my head back slightly to look at him.

“Why do I need to see the sunrise from the gondola?” I want to. I’ve wanted to from the minute I saw them out my office window…but I’m not sure how he knows that.

He rolls his eyes at me, and now Alder rolling his eyes at me is so cute I can’t stand it. “Everyone should see the sunrise clear the peaks out here at least once, and you’ve stared longingly out your window at them every day you’ve been here. I think it’s time you get on one,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Oh, I see,” I say somberly, biting my lip, and he cocks his head in confusion. “You’ve been stalking me,” I tell him as gravely as I can manage. “Why does this keep happening?” I feign frustration. “I meet a guy. He bangs my brains out one time , and then he’s obsessed with me.” That last bit gets me a laugh. A loud one. I grin. I’ve never wanted someone’s laugh so badly. Craved it. His laugh knocks something loose in me. It sounds like home. It sounds like mine.

“If you think I’m going to deny how obsessed I am with you, you’ve got another thing coming.”

I lean back into him and drop my voice. “I would like to be coming, but…”

“…” he cautions.

“What? This is me telling you what I want. I want you to come inside,” I deadpan. He doesn’t take the bait though.

“There’s an innuendo in there somewhere, but I’m not taking the bait. Not tonight,” he says softly, kissing the hair at my temple.

“When you’re home alone in a few minutes, I hope you remember this moment,” I tell him, inching up slightly to bite at his lower lip. He leans into my mouth and plants his lips on mine. His tongue swipes at my closed lips, and I open, letting him in to deepen our kiss. Damn, can this man kiss. I’m floating again, relishing the feel of his arms circling around me and the contrast between my cold nose and his warm mouth. I’m melting into him, absolutely pliant. He kisses me for a few seconds longer, then pulls back briefly before planting the sweetest, most intimate kiss to my lips.

I open my eyes to find his blue ones blazing. Clearing my throat as delicately as I can before speaking, I lower my already breathy voice. “I also want you to be thinking about me and what I’ll be doing. Alone. Thinking about that first night we met. I hope it doesn’t keep you up late,” I tell him with a wink. “ We have an early morning.” I step back and instantly feel the chill it brings. I miss his heat. I miss how his body makes me feel.

He smiles at me, that amused, playful expression that’s ever-present. “Goodnight, princess. I’ll see you in the morning,” he tells me as I open my front door. He frowns then. “, please tell me you lock your doors.” I smile.

“Why would I need to? I don’t think anything bad ever happens around here in Silverthorne.”

“Bad things happen everywhere. Lock your door. Please.” The please gets me. It feels like my chest is being lit up from inside.

“Okay, action hero. I’ll lock the door.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, Alder.” My voice is reflective of a scolded teen. “I promise.”

“Thank you, and about tomorrow?” I look at him expectantly. “Wear that purple ski suit. I want to see you in it, and if you’re good—I want to take it off you.” He winks and turns to leave, giving me an excellent view of his ass in those suit pants. I don’t think anyone's ass has ever looked so good in suit pants. I bite my lip and shut my door, ready to strip out of my dress and take a bath but remember my promise and that Alder cares for me and my safety. It invades my senses and leaves this giddy feeling centered in my chest.

Smiling, I lock the deadbolt into place.