Quin dropped a briefcase in the hallway and stretched. “We got up too early. I’m starving.”
Katie gave Ivy a quick hug. “Me, too. Everything smells delicious. May I help you?”
Farrell, noticeably, said nothing. He was flipping through a stack of mail in his hands. Perhaps that was his excuse for not acknowledging the woman he’d recently bedded.
Ivy nodded her head. “If you’ll see what the men want to drink, the rest of lunch is ready.” She took three plates and began doling out the meal.
Katie frowned. “Where is your plate?”
“I ate earlier,” Ivy lied. “Dolly was up at the crack of dawn, so I was hungry already.”
Katie seemed unconvinced, but she didn’t press the issue.
Once Ivy put food on the table, she left the kitchen without fanfare and escaped to the study. Quietly, she opened the door and slipped inside. Dolly was still asleep, her little bottom up in the air.
Ivy sat down in a cozy armchair, leaned back and closed her eyes. She ached for Farrell, for the knowledge that he was giving her a wide berth. Had she ruined everything by sleeping with him, by giving in to the madness that had caught them up in a physical relationship that seemed inevitable?
Farrell had been so kind to her. So incredibly sexy. Was it any wonder that Ivy had a crush on him?
Being in bed with him, having him touch her and give her pleasure, had been an experience she hadn’t known she needed.
With Farrell, she felt whole.
Twelve
Farrell handed Katie a sheet of paper. “Why don’t you and Quin assign the rooms? I’ve penciled in a couple. I’ll go find Ivy and see what else needs to be done.”
As excuses went, it was clunky at best, but guilt burned a hole in his gut. How was he going to explain himself?
It took him several minutes to find Ivy. Only when he eased open the door to the study did he see the sleeping baby and her mother...also dead to the world. Or so it seemed.
Farrell slipped inside the room, closed the door silently and stood with his back to the wall. Watching the two females sleep made his chest ache.
Ivy hadn’t heard him...yet. Either she was very tired, or the white noise of the fan had covered his quiet entry. Until a few minutes ago when he walked into the house with Quin and Katie, he hadn’t seen Ivy since he climbed out of her bed yesterday morning. Thirty hours, give or take.
It seemed an eternity.
He’d been an ass in the kitchen just now. His first glance at Ivy had knocked the wind out of him. Pretending to read the damn mail was all he could manage, because he hadn’t known how to act or what to say.
At the very least, Ivy deserved an apology.
On the other hand, if he wasn’t planning to sleep with her again, it would be best to pretend everything was normal. Could he do it? Could he act as if sharing Ivy Danby’s bed hadn’t been the best thing to happen to him in the last seven years?
After several long minutes—when Ivy didn’t stir—he decided Fate was giving him a nudge. Leave well enough alone. Water under the bridge. Never look back. Any number of clichés came to mind.
Though his conscience and his heart were unsettled, he made himself slide to the left, reach behind his back, turn the knob and exit the room.
* * *
Katie tapped her old-school yellow legal pad with the tip of her pencil. “I think that’s it. The caterer will be here at eight in the morning. She’s sent me all of the weekend menus for approval. We have one vegan. One peanut allergy, and two gluten-free. I think we’re in good shape.”
Quin kissed the top of his wife’s head. “Isn’t she amazing?”
Farrell chuckled. “She was my admin long before she was your wife. I’m fully aware of Katie’s credentials.”
“Not all of them.” Quin waggled his eyebrows and kissed the side of Katie’s neck.
“Eww, gross,” she said, shoving him away. “This is a business meeting, Quin. Try to be an adult, please.” Her bashful smile took some of the sting from the rebuke.
“Yes, ma’am.” Quin’s hangdog expression was patently false.
Farrell stood and stretched. “Well, if you two lovebirds have everything under control, I think I’ll hit the lab. Once the chaos starts, I’ll be losing ground until Monday.”
“How’s the altitude-signaling device going?” Quin asked. “Any leaks?”
“None that I’ve heard of, which means there’s a good chance the Portland lab really was vulnerable.”
Quin sobered. “Zachary is trying to find an expert to analyze all the work computers.”
Katie nodded. “But it sounds like a gargantuan task. If things are going well here, Farrell, I vote you continue working remotely until we know something for sure.”
Farrell frowned. “What worries me is that we may never know.”
Quin paced the kitchen restlessly. “If Stone River Outdoors has a corporate spy or a hacker or whatever they call it these days, we’re gonna find out. End of story.”
Farrell nodded. “I want to believe that. But the police don’t have the manpower to pursue this. The suspect in your and Dad’s car crash is dead. He was a drifter. A drug addict. And there’s no evidence the crash was related to the theft of my designs, or that it was anything more than an accident.”
“So we just drop it?” Quin’s raw question held both anger and frustration.
“No,” Farrell said. “As long as you and Zachary agree, I’d like to hire a private investigator.”
“That will be damn expensive.” Quin chewed his lip.
“But money well spent, right?”
“Yep. You have my vote.”
Katie gathered her things. “I think an investigator is a great idea. But we have bigger fish to fry at the moment. Let’s go to our house, Quin.” She glanced at Farrell. “We’ll be back at seven tomorrow morning. And what about Ivy?”
“What about Ivy?” Farrell tried to make the question casual, but Katie was eyeing him strangely.
She shrugged. “I wondered if you had filled her in on all the details, or if I need to do that?”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate anything you have to offer,” Farrell said. “I think she’s in the study with the baby. Dolly is usually awake by now. Feel free to check on them.”
* * *
When Farrell strode out of the room, Katie glanced at her husband. “Was that weird?” she asked.
Quin rummaged in the cabinet for a new coffee filter. “Weird, how?”
“I don’t know,” Katie said, frowning. “They barely spoke to each other when the three of us arrived. I thought by now Farrell would feel comfortable with Ivy and vice versa.”
“Katie,” Quin warned. “It’s not any of our business. You already made him hire Ivy. I think you’ve done enough.”
“Hey,” she said, hoping he was teasing. “It was the perfect solution.”
“Maybe. But our Farrell is a certified hermit. Losing Sasha all those years ago changed him. He likes being alone. Having a live-in housekeeper and a little baby around may be wearing thin.”
* * *
Ivy paused just outside the doorway, trying not to let on that she had overheard the entire conversation. Her face was hot and her stomach churned. Was it true? Had Farrell decided that peanut-butter sandwiches were preferable to having Ivy and Dolly underfoot?
Was he regretting the sex?
The hurt burrowed deep.
Half an hour ago, she’d been lightly dozing when Farrell sneaked into the study. She had snapped awake at the first tiny click of the doorknob. New mothers were trained that way. Any out-of-the-ordinary sound could be cause for alarm.
Holding her breath, she had waited for him to speak, thinking she would open her eyes when he did. Instead, he’d simply stood there and watched her. What thoughts had gone through his
brain?
Perhaps he had come to tell her that this weekend would be the last of her duties. That he had changed his mind about needing a housekeeper. If so, why hadn’t he done it?
Surely he hadn’t come to talk about their momentary indiscretion. Not that they’d been indiscreet, not really. Two grown adults. Single. Available. It wasn’t as if the two of them had done anything scandalous.
They had each wanted and needed the other.
Dolly chortled loudly, meaning that Ivy could no longer hide her presence in the hall. Besides, this wasn’t the time to analyze why Farrell Stone had made love to her like a movie hero and then shut her down cold.
Ivy cleared her throat, put a hand to her hot cheek and made herself walk into the kitchen. “Did I hear my name?” she asked cheerfully.
Katie looked stricken.
Quin smoothed the situation like a pro. “Katie was saying she needed to give you the update on our guests. Last-minute details. You know...”
“Oh, sure,” Ivy said. “I need to know what you all want me to do this weekend.”
Katie took Dolly and handed her off to Quin. “Grab her coat in the hall and walk her on the front porch for a few minutes, will you? Ivy and I need to put our heads together.”
When Quin and Dolly exited, Ivy sat on a stool at the island. “Give me the rundown,” she said.
Katie nodded and slid her notepad to Ivy. “Why don’t you take a picture of this with your phone? It will help you keep the names straight. And the second page is all the dietary stuff. But the caterer has that under control.”
Ivy frowned. “Your brother-in-law is paying me a generous salary. I feel like I should be the one cooking.”
“Nonsense. He’s been very clear. Farrell wants you as hostess.”
“I’ve never done anything like that. My husband didn’t even like to entertain on a small scale.”
“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned your husband to me,” Katie said softly. “Are you handling things okay?”
Ivy nodded. “I’m fine. It wasn’t a happy marriage, Katie.”
“Oh.” The other woman’s eyes rounded. “I didn’t know.”
“No way you could have. I didn’t even tell your sister when she advertised for a roommate. I was still processing Richard’s death and what it meant for me and Dolly. Still am, I suppose.”
Katie’s gaze was filled with sympathy. “Would it make you feel better if I came to the cabin with you and we can choose outfits for the various parts of the weekend?”
Ivy exhaled. “Oh, gosh, yes. I’ve been agonizing over what to wear.”
“Let me tell Quin where I’m going.”
“Will he be okay with Dolly?”
“Of course. And if Dolly is her cute and charming self, perhaps she’ll give my husband a few ideas.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ivy unlocked the cabin with Katie right on her heels. Katie looked around with interest. “I like how you’ve settled in.”
Ivy snorted. “If that’s a polite way of saying we have toys everywhere, then yes. We’re settled in.”
Katie laughed. “It’s organized chaos. I love it.”
They made their way to Ivy’s bedroom. Fortunately, Ivy had made her bed and tidied up that morning. “I’ve hung everything and pressed the wrinkles out of the few items that needed it. But there’s so much.”
Katie riffled through the hangers. “This for lunch tomorrow. First impressions and all that.”
The outfit Katie indicated was a sophisticated black pantsuit with a teal satin tank beneath and matching jewelry. Ivy had a hunch that the necklace and earrings probably cost as much as her first week’s salary.
The black leather flats were designer-made. The fact that she now also owned a half-dozen new bras and undies still made her shake her head in disbelief. “And after lunch?”
“The Stone brothers have planned a three-mile hike, nothing too strenuous. They want to show off the property and in the process demonstrate a few of our most popular pieces of outdoor gear. You saw that I ordered you hiking boots and trail pants that dry easily. You’ve got several options for tops.”
“No wonder Farrell wanted a caterer. If he’s going to take the group on a forced march, they’ll be hungry.”
Katie grinned. “Indeed.” She held up a hanger. “I love this. It will be perfect for tomorrow evening. The men have planned for cocktails overlooking the ocean and then a formal dinner.”
The dress Katie had picked out from a catalog had three-quarter-length sleeves, a curved neckline and a hem that came down to just above the knee. But when Ivy tried it on several days ago, the deep red silk clung to her body in such a way that every one of her curves, modest though they were, presented a provocative image.
Ivy hesitated. “It’s awfully...red,” she said.
Katie laughed. “Of course it is. And it looks amazing with your skin tone. It’s really very modest. You can pull it off.”
“Maybe there’s something else a little less fitted?”
“Red for tomorrow night,” Katie said. “No question. Hold your head up and be fabulous.”
“I don’t think be fabulous is in my repertoire.”
“It’s in every woman’s repertoire,” Katie insisted. “But sometimes we let ourselves believe the negative messages. From others and from ourselves. You’re a lovely woman, Ivy. I’m sorry you had an unhappy marriage.”
Ivy shrugged. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday. Suffice it to say, Richard would never have let me out of the house in something like that. But I’m in charge of me now.”
“All the more reason to shine. You’re starting over, Ivy. Whatever the reason, crossroads in our lives are opportunities for growth.”
Ivy smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, fingering the crimson fabric of the dress in question. “I’m beginning to see why you were the perfect person to bring Quin out of his funk. No wonder he fell in love with you.”
“It wasn’t me,” Katie said. “I just gave him a nudge. Quin had to deal with the loss of competitive skiing on his own. Like any grief process, it took time. I’m really proud of him.”
Ivy was envious of Katie. The other woman had clearly been confident before meeting Quin. From what Ivy had picked up, Katie had been running Farrell’s R & D department back in Portland for several years. Now, though, Katie glowed with the certainty of a woman who knew she was well loved.
“Okay,” Ivy said. “We’ve picked out Friday’s wardrobe, but how about the rest? I never knew there would be so many opportunities to change.”
Katie turned back to the closet. “This top and pants for Saturday morning. More outdoor stuff for the afternoon, and the deep blue dress for Saturday evening.”
Soon, between the two of them, they had Ivy’s closet organized in the order she would need things. Despite a certain level of apprehension, Ivy was looking forward to wearing such gorgeous clothes.
When the task was done, they went in search of Quin. They found him in the kitchen letting Dolly pull every pot and pan and lid out of the bottom cabinets. Both women gaped at the mess.
Katie put her hands on her hips. “Quinten Stone. Your brother has a houseful of important company on the way in the morning. What were you thinking?”
Quin’s grin was sunny as he kept one hand on Dolly’s waist to keep her from tumbling into the open cabinet. “She wanted to. What can I say? I’m putty in her hands.”
Ivy was more amused than Quin’s wife. “She has that effect on me, too. Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up later.” Quin was quickly becoming one of her favorite people. His mischief and charming sense of humor made him a delight to be around. Unlike his solemn brother.
Katie squatted. “We’ll do it now. Sorry, Dolly. This is a big weekend. We all have to be on our best behavior.”
Ivy spotted the legal
pad on the counter. Something on the housing list made her frown. “Why am I penciled in for the rose room? It’s the nicest suite in the house. Oceanfront. King bed. That should go to one of our guests. I can sleep anywhere.”
Katie and Quin exchanged a glance. Katie took the notepad from Ivy and glanced at it. “We’re only using six of the eight upstairs bedrooms. Quin wanted you to be comfortable. He excluded the room with the twin beds at the back of the house and the bedroom with the smallest bathroom. The other guests are well taken care of, I promise.”
Quin leaned against the fridge, letting Dolly play her favorite pull-the-hair game. “It’s Farrell’s house, Ivy. He calls the shots.”
“But it doesn’t make sense.”
Again, the duo gave each other a look. It was Quin who spoke up. “My brother likes and appreciates you, Ivy. This is something he wanted to do. If I were you, I wouldn’t make a big deal about it.”
Ivy wasn’t convinced. “Okay,” she said slowly. She took Dolly from him. “The two of you should go. I’ve kept you too long. What time will you be back for dinner?”
Katie leaned her head on Quin’s shoulder. “Actually, my husband is cooking me a romantic dinner for two tonight. You and Farrell will be on your own.”
Thirteen
Ivy took Dolly to the porch. They waved as Quin and Katie climbed into their car and disappeared down the road. Now Ivy’s last line of defense was gone and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.
Her stomach fluttered as she debated her options. Surely she and Farrell needed to clear the air before the house party. But how?
Holding the baby on one hip, she extracted her cell phone from her pocket and sent a text to her boss.
What time would you like me to have dinner ready tonight?
There. That was simple and straightforward enough. No hidden agenda. Farrell didn’t reply to her text for twenty minutes. When he did, the note was not reassuring.
I’ll make myself a sandwich. Work is going well. I don’t want to interrupt the flow. Why don’t you and Dolly enjoy the evening?
Upstairs Downstairs Temptation (The Men 0f Stone River Book 2) Page 11