by Erin Wright
They made their way to his diesel truck that he’d left running while inside. It was too cold to turn his truck on and off, plus he’d need it to stay warm long enough to get through the concert without freezing up. Just this quick jaunt from the front door to the truck had bitter cold seeping into his bones, and he heard a happy sigh of relief from her as he helped Ivy up into the warmth of the truck. Her dark blue jacket looked pretty thin, and she didn’t seem to own gloves, or at least wasn’t disposed to wearing them. It was too damn cold outside to not wear gloves, in his humble opinion.
Girls were so weird sometimes.
He kept that thought to himself; instead just heading towards the church that was only a couple of blocks away. Even before they pulled into the parking lot, he could hear the Christmas music spilling out of it, the warm light and stained glass windows drawing distorted, gorgeous designs on the ground. He pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine, the sudden silence after the loud rumble feeling almost deafening. “You ready?” he asked her.
She was wringing her hands together, looking as if she were debating between bolting for home or throwing up, but she nodded. Somewhere between home and here, she’d had time to think about their plan, and realized that it meant seeing Tiffany, which probably wasn’t her favorite activity in the world. Before he could offer to take her back home, though, she responded.
“I’m ready,” she said. Her voice wasn’t exactly steady, but he decided not to mention how unconvincing she sounded, and instead just helped her out of the truck. Once her feet were on the snowy ground, she looked up at him, her soft blue eyes large enough to drown in, and he grinned down at her, trying to project his confidence onto her.
“Let’s give ‘em a show,” he said softly in her ear, and then tucked her hand into his arm as they strolled towards the doors of the church. He felt her arm tremble in his, so he tucked it closer against his side.
He wondered if she’d fought him so hard on going to the concert because not-so-deep-down inside, she really didn’t want to go. Ivy had worked hard to wipe her feet clean of this town, and never come back. He’d asked her out because she was cute and fun and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her for four days and he needed some way of getting Tiffany off his back, but at no point had he thought about what she wanted or needed, which pretty much made him a Class A asshole.
He needed to apologize, but maybe not in the midst of a community concert. He’d apologize afterwards, while driving her home.
To be willing to face a town that had made her life miserable for years on end…
Despite her trembling, or maybe because of it, Austin couldn’t help but be impressed by her backbone. She was damn brave, whether or not she realized it.
They walked up the front steps and into the foyer of the church, the welcoming warmth of the building enveloping them like a fleece blanket next to a roaring fire. Her trembling only increased, though.
“We can go home,” he whispered into her ear, wanting to give her one last chance to make a run for the door. He couldn’t help but draw in her smell as he leaned close, letting it wash over him. Cinnamon and chocolate – she smelled like the best kind of dessert. How did she make her hair smell like chocolate?
Before he could blurt out that question though, which would’ve been horrifying, she responded, saving him from complete embarrassment. “I’m fine,” she whispered back. “Just don’t let go of my arm.”
That was something he was happy to oblige her on, and hugged it tighter against his side.
The concert was non-denominational – simply a community event that happened to be held in the Methodist Church – and so no pastor greeted them upon their entrance, although Austin saw a few farmers from around the valley that he’d worked with over the past two years in the audience. His gaze swept the chapel, looking for Tiffany or Ezzy, and finally he blew out a breath at the same time that Ivy relaxed.
They weren’t there. That meant that the purpose of the date was moot, of course – they could just turn around and go home.
But…he didn’t want to. He wanted to enjoy an evening out on the town with a beautiful woman, whether or not that date had a hidden reason for happening.
So instead of heading for the front doors like they really should have, he guided her towards a mostly empty bench where she settled against his side as he casually draped his arm across the back of the bench. They fit together, her soft curves melding against his side.
He wasn’t quite sure what to think about that. None of this was what he’d planned, and yet…it felt right.
Before he could ponder that thought further, the music piping through the speakers dropped off, and a conductor strode up onto the front dais to the podium. After welcoming them out to the 57th Long Valley Bells Concert, the musicians began filing in from either side of the church, and up to rows of tables already marching in lines across the front of the chapel. Huge bells as big as watermelons down to tiny bells the size of his thumb all gleamed in the Christmas twinkle lights and candles occupying every space possible.
As the chandeliers above dimmed, leaving the twinkling lights and flickering candles to provide most of the light, the musicians started out with a rousing rendition of Carol of the Bells, the notes echoing from the arched ceiling, swirling and surrounding them with the gorgeous sound. Ivy turned and grinned up at him, joy rolling off her in waves, and he snuggled her closer to his side. The fun of the moment was contagious, and he couldn’t help but revel in it.
Even though absolutely none of this evening was going to plan, Austin found himself on his feet, clapping enthusiastically as the musicians took bow after bow at the end of the concert. He couldn’t contain the grin that seemed permanently attached to his face. He looked down at Ivy, who was grinning back just as widely, and felt his heart thump a little harder than normal.
That felt…weird. All tingly and shit.
He put his arm around her and guided her towards the foyer of the church, joining the stream of people headed the same direction. He decided that he needed to watch what he ate for lunch. Those jalapeños were causing heartburn. He felt a little young to need to watch his diet, but obviously something had gone wrong between his fajitas at lunch and now.
Because it couldn’t be anything more than that.
Chapter 7
Ivy
Ivy’s waist tingled where it was pressed up against Austin, as they followed the flow of the crowd back into the foyer. The bells choir had put out refreshments – coffee, hot cocoa, apple cider, and some homemade donuts – and following her nose, Ivy decided to head that direction instead of out the front doors. Those donuts looked way too delicious to pass up.
After she and Austin picked out cups of coffee and donuts, though, she quickly realized her mistake. More than a few members of the community were openly eyeing them, and the same question was written on every person’s face – was Ivy dating Austin? Had Ivy moved back to Long Valley? Had Ivy given up on her dream of becoming a famous artist and had slunk back home with her tail stuck between her legs?
She felt the burning desire to pull a chair over from the corner, stand on it, clear her throat, and announce to the world that she and Austin were not dating; they were simply attending the same concert in close proximity to each other.
Unless the story was being retold to Tiffany and Ezzy, in which case Austin was madly in love with her.
She thought back to leaning against his side as the music had swirled around them, his rock-hard muscular abs the perfect balance to her flabby, fat self, and decided that perhaps making such an announcement wouldn’t be a grand idea, mostly because she wasn’t sure she could make it sound convincing.
She’d enjoyed leaning against his side, dammit. She’d enjoyed having his arm around her shoulders as they’d sat there. It made her sound like she was in junior high all over again – excited about nothing but snuggling with a boy – but she couldn’t seem to help it.
He looked down at her, ob
viously noticing the same number of stares that she had, and said, “Ready to head out?” in a jovial-if-overly-loud tone of voice. He was trying to save her from embarrassment, which was…sweet.
Really sweet.
Unfortunately, he’d caught her mid-bite into the donut, jelly oozing out the sides, and so she couldn’t do anything more than just nod her agreement.
She really should stop eating jelly donuts. They were just so damn good.
A couple of older farmers in the area said their goodbyes to Austin on the way out of the church, but no one said anything to her. Hell, they might not have even recognized her. It’d been years since she’d been back in Long Valley.
Ugh. Who was she kidding? She was Ivy McLain, one of the two McLain girls in town, and her brilliant red hair, even more vibrant in color than Iris’, was not exactly easy to miss.
Ivy licked her fingers clean as they made their way back to the truck, trying to get the sticky sugary wonder that was Mrs. Frank’s Homemade Donuts off her fingers, when she heard Austin clearing his throat. She looked up at him and caught a strangled look of panic? Lust? flitting across his face before it was replaced by a smile. It was so fast, she wasn’t sure if she’d even seen it, or if she’d just imagined it. She studied his face for a moment longer and then decided that since the lighting wasn’t so great in the oversized parking lot, she was probably just seeing things.
After he helped her into the truck, he hurried around to his side, but instead of heading home, he started driving the streets of Sawyer.
“I thought you’d want to get out of there,” he said as way of explanation, as he turned down another street bedecked with Christmas lights. There went the house of her sixth grade crush. Oh, and there was her high school debate teacher’s house.
It was so weird being back in Long Valley. Every street was filled to the brim with…memories. She wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or bad, although she was heavily leaning in the direction of bad.
Memories of Long Valley were pretty much never good.
She realized she’d been silent too long. “Yeah,” she said quickly, trying to fill in the hole created by her wandering mind. “I haven’t been home in a while, so I’m sure a couple of people were wondering what I was doing there.” Not only that, but what I was doing there with you.
She kept that thought to herself. If Austin hadn’t yet noticed that she wasn’t the most gorgeous girl in town, she wasn’t about to inform him of the need for glasses.
“So what do you do in California?” Austin asked.
Ivy felt a bit of panic lodge itself in her throat. Wait tables while pretending to be a successful artist. Somehow, she was pretty sure that wasn’t a great answer, so she swallowed it whole. “I went to the California College of the Arts, where I got my Bachelors of Fine Arts degree in Painting and Drawing,” she said with an overly cheerful grin. “Iris was always the one with the athletic talent, while I was the artistic one. Iris is lucky if she can pull off a stick-figure drawing, which is only fair. I have to beat her at something, right?”
At the genuine chuckle from Austin, Ivy felt her stomach unclench just a smidge. She’d spent her entire life trying to live up to Iris’ example, and had failed on every count. Not as tall, not as pretty, not as skinny, not as athletic, not as well loved by every person who met her…
Compared to her ultra-perfect sister, Ivy was pretty much a failure. Except when it came to art. It was a world where she’d always excelled.
Until she actually had to pay her rent with her work, at which point she was once again a failure.
She pushed that thought away. No reason to focus on that. Not tonight.
“When did you decide that you wanted to be an artist?” Austin asked as they turned down yet another wintry street. This one had a home where they’d gone all out, complete with a Nativity Scene made of blow-up dolls. Ivy bit back her grin at the sight. Somehow, Baby Jesus being represented by a blob of inflated plastic just didn’t fit her idea of the Christmas season, but she obviously had different views than the owner of 437 Oak Street.
“The first time I won a coloring contest. The Shop ’N Go holds one every year, and I won my division when I was a kindergartener. I won my division every year until I graduated from high school. It started out with a prize for a candy bar of my choice, and worked its way up until I got a $250 scholarship when I was a senior in high school. At the time, I really thought $250 was a ton of money and was going to get me somewhere. It wasn’t until I got to San Francisco and enrolled in my classes that I realized that it only barely covered one textbook.”
Austin looked at her and grinned. “I’m happy to hear that colleges are just as expensive in California as they are in North Idaho,” he said dryly. “I’d hate to hear I overpaid for my secondary education.”
They laughed together, the happiness rushing through her chest as she grinned back at him. Ever since high school, she’d hated cowboys. They were assholes who broke her heart and made fun of her to other students. They were also dumb hicks who couldn’t count unless they removed their boots and socks first.
But talking to Austin…he was this totally different creature from every other cowboy she’d ever met. He didn’t chew tobacco or say “ain’t” or…
Kiss girls under bleachers while his girlfriend stupidly waited for him to come sit next to her to watch a football game.
Her eyes searched his face. Well, maybe he did. Maybe he did all of those things, and she just hadn’t seen that side of him yet. It wasn’t like she’d spent years in his company or something. She was being awfully naïve, simply believing that he was a good guy who wouldn’t pull that kind of stunt because she wanted it to be true.
What kind of proof did she have to back that belief up? The fact that he was adorable when he smiled?
That wasn’t proof. That was her hormones talking.
That was nothing but wishful thinking.
“So what kind of artwork do you do?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. “Paint? Sculpt? Draw?”
“Oil paints,” she said, “although I always sketch out what I’m going to do beforehand. I tend to paint abstract expressionism, which is all the rage down in Cali right now.”
And then he was asking her questions and she was answering, and she realized how much fun it was to talk about art with a novice, who didn’t have any preconceived notions about what was the best kind of art, or the most sophisticated kind of art. It was such a different way of looking at art from what she was used to, what between her art teachers at college and the art gallery owners she’d finally managed to make friends with, all of whom were focused on the latest trends, the biggest names.
Austin had an earthy way of looking at art that was…unpretentious. She started laughing at one point. “I bet you think that antlers are a perfectly valid decorating style, don’t you?” she asked in a half-accusatory tone of voice.
He grinned over at her. “Have you been peeking in my living room window while I was sleeping?” he demanded. “There’s a four-point right over my couch that all the guys down at Frank’s Feed are jealous of.”
She bust out laughing. “I bet they are…”
He pulled to a stop and Ivy blinked, realizing that he’d finally made his way to her home when she hadn’t been paying attention. He hurried around to the passenger side of the truck and helped her down, tucking her arm in his as they made their way to the dark front door. She shoved her other hand into her pocket, wishing for the hundredth time that she’d thought to bring her gloves with her from California. Not that they would be a lot of use in this weather, since they were more for show than function, but they would have to do some good in this sub-zero weather she’d inexplicably found herself in.
They reached the front steps, lit only by a string of Christmas lights marching across the roofline of the house, and Ivy paused. Was he going to kiss her? Hug her? Tell her have a good life and drive off into the night?
He pulled her against him an
d hugged her tight. “Goodnight, Ivy,” he said softly into her hair. “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”
And then he was gone, crunching his way back to his truck, and she was left alone on her parents’ front doorstep, staring after him, uncertain if she was happy or sad that he hadn’t taken a chance and kissed her.
It was probably for the best, but a part of her still wished for something more.
Chapter 8
Austin
He climbed into his truck and settled back against his leather seat, staring out into the darkness, cut through by his headlights. Small flakes continued to drift down through the beams of light trying so valiantly to penetrate the darkness.
“Austin Bishop, you’re an idiot,” he said out loud. When he’d seen her lick her fingers clean of the sugar and jam from the donuts, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever breathe again. It had to be the most innocently erotic thing he’d ever seen in his life. He’d wanted to drive her around after that, if only to calm his libido down before dropping her off at home. He wasn’t sure if he could bring her to within feet of her bed without seriously messing something up otherwise.
And sleeping with Ivy McLain would seriously mess something up. She was probably on her way back to California in the morning, or maybe even the day after that, but either way, it didn’t matter. He was staying here. Having her and then losing her would probably be worse than never having her at all.
It was fun to go on a date with her. It was a blast, actually. Her enthusiasm when it came to art, her intelligence, her beauty, her laugh…
She was a lethal combination, a drug he couldn’t let into his system. He’d tried loving a woman before. He’d loved her for years, and look at how that’d turned out.