“A much-needed break.” Alyssa sounded tired. “Dusty is watching my son for me.”
Dusty, a chiropractor known as the biggest flirt in town, was Alyssa’s brother. He shared office space with Travis, another of their cousins.
“I’m sure both boys are having fun,” Ivy said.
Alyssa nodded. “As long as they don’t make a mess.”
“At least Dusty hasn’t been bitten by the marriage bug so he has time to babysit,” Jessie teased. She managed the calves and oversaw the cattle sales at the family ranch but looked nothing like a cowgirl tonight. “There will only be a handful of us singletons left if it keeps up.”
“I’ll be one.” Ivy had a feeling she might be the last single Quinn over the age of eighteen standing. She held out her left hand. “This ring finger is staying bare.”
Jessie and Alyssa laughed.
“What can I get you?” Ivy asked, trying not to notice Nash talking to Maggie again. Okay, bartenders talked to customers, but this was the second time. Or was it the third?
“Did you get that, Ivy?” Alyssa asked.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t.” She smiled at her cousin. “Could you repeat that, please?”
“I’d like the meatloaf special.” Alyssa handed over her menu. “But can you please put the gravy on the side?”
Ivy nodded. “Not a problem.”
Jessie held on to her menu. “I want the cabbage rolls with a dinner salad. Honey mustard dressing, please.”
Someone coughed. She recognized the sound immediately.
Nash.
Ivy glanced over her shoulder. He was still speaking with her sister. She forced her attention back on the table. “So I have one meatloaf special with mashed potatoes on the side and the cabbage rolls with a dinner salad and ranch dressing.”
Alyssa laughed. “No one will believe this.”
“What?” Ivy asked.
“You never mess up orders, but you got both of ours wrong.” Jessie touched Ivy’s arm. “You okay?”
Ivy’s cheeks burned. She couldn’t explain the real reason, because Nash wanted no one to know he was here and the NDA she’d signed. “Sorry, busy night and I didn’t sleep much.”
Not to mention a certain guy I can’t stop staring at tonight.
This was bad. Not that she’d lied to Alyssa and Jessie. Just withheld part of the truth.
“Okay, let me try again.” Ivy repeated her cousins’ orders and got both correct.
As she went to her next table, she didn’t let Nash’s presence distract her. Messing up more orders or, worse, dropping a dish or a drink on a customer would be bad. Somehow she made it through the next thirty minutes with only one person sending a plate back because they hadn’t liked the blackened catfish, which wasn’t Ivy’s fault.
When it was showtime, she stood in front of the microphone, fighting a case of nerves. The fluttering feeling in her stomach was always present before she sang at the pub, except these butterflies appeared to be drunk and wreaking havoc inside her. She knew the reason—Nash.
Which was ridiculous.
He’d heard her sing almost every day this week and been here last week when she’d performed. She’d received nothing but praise from him. Any changes to her songs had strengthened them. His suggestions had been constructive, so she didn’t understand her reaction.
Just sing.
So she did.
Halfway through the first song, Ivy found her groove. Oh, she knew Nash was still watching, but she let the music take over. One song went into the next—all covers—with only a few breaks between the applause for her to talk to the audience.
Sing one of your songs, please.
Nash had texted her that earlier today. She had two songs left, so this was the perfect time for one.
“I’m going to switch things up and sing something I wrote.” Someone whistled—Maggie. “This one is called ‘Waiting in the Rain.’”
As Ivy sang of a woman waiting for her love to arrive, she couldn’t help but think of Nash and the time they’d spent together this week. The spotlight made seeing anyone in the pub difficult, but she knew where he was sitting and glanced his way, pouring her gratitude for working on the music with her into the song.
When she finished, the clapping was louder than it had been for the other songs. She gave a slight bow. “I have one more song for y’all tonight.”
“Do you take requests?” Nash asked.
The question caught her off guard for a nanosecond, but then she recovered. “Depends on what you want to hear and who’s asking?”
The crowd glanced around.
“A duet.” He walked toward her. “With me.”
The world—hers at least—shifted. Ivy’s heart lodged in her throat. She swallowed. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Not an ounce of uncertainty sounded in his voice.
“Okay.”
Nash joined her on stage, still wearing the beanie and sunglasses. He stood next to her, shoulder to shoulder, since they would share the mike. She didn’t smell alcohol on him, but being on the small stage with a spotlight was the opposite of being incognito.
“Do you really want to do this?” she whispered.
He nodded. “They’ll think I’m a ringer. Let’s sing ‘Forever in my Heart.’”
That was one of her songs they’d worked on together.
As she sang the first verse, her gaze flicked from the audience to him. She wasn’t sure where to look even though her eyes kept wanting to return to his face.
When he joined in during the chorus, a murmur ran through the crowd. He might be dressed like a typical Pacific Northwest Hipster, but he sounded like Nash Bennett, country music superstar.
He kept singing, not deterred in the slightest, moving so their faces almost touched.
Her breath nearly stalled. But nothing had ever felt so natural, so…right.
When it was Nash’s turn for the chorus again, his gaze met hers. His left arm slipped around Ivy, bringing her closer. “I never knew what was missing,” he sang. “Never knew the hole inside me could be filled.”
Her heart melted. She nearly missed her cue but sang her line. “I’m here. With you. Forever in your heart.”
Singing, she leaned into him, feeling as if they had become one voice. He never glanced at the audience, only at her. She couldn’t have looked away from him if she tried.
The song ended, but something still connected them together. Neither moved for a second, maybe three.
Clapping thundered through the pub.
Mischief gleaming in his eyes, he kissed her. A soft, perfect press of his mouth, giving her a taste of his warmth and of him.
People cheered.
He stepped away. “Thanks.”
What was happening? Her lips tingled. She forced herself not to touch them.
And then she realized they were still on stage in front of people—friends, family, and strangers. “Follow me.”
CHAPTER NINE
Nash found himself in the pub’s kitchen surrounded by three men, none of whom appeared happy to see him. Okay, he’d blown his cover in a big way—R.J. would kill him if the PR firm didn’t get to Nash first. But after Ivy had sung that song to him, he’d been compelled to sing one with her. To share the magic of their duets with the audience. To stand next to her.
He knew there would be consequences, but he hadn’t cared. The only thing that mattered had been Ivy. Which was why kissing her seemed the perfect coda to the song.
If these people—he was guessing they might be her brothers or cousins—had an issue with the singing or kiss, that was their problem.
Not his.
Ivy stepped between Nash and the three men. “There’s no reason for anyone to be upset.”
“Are you kidding me?” the man, who Nash had seen the previous two times he’d been at the pub, practically growled out the words. “If this is who I think it is—”
“Calm down, Ryder.” Ivy’s voice was low and
steady. “Customers will hear you.”
“He has some nerve.” A fit, salt-of-the-earth-looking man balled his fists.
Nash was tempted to say he was right here, but thought better. These three were riled enough.
Ivy sighed. “Let’s take it down a notch, Carter.”
“Nice song,” a third man said, being the lone voice of reason among the crowd. “But you have no right to kiss our baby sister like that in front of an audience.”
Ivy’s jaw clenched. “It was nothing more than a peck, David.”
Nash would beg to differ. He leaned forward, his gaze lingering on her lips and wanting another taste. “That was more than a peck, darlin’. But we can discuss that later. In private.”
She blushed. The charming pink looked good on her and made the three men appear apoplectic. “These are my brothers. Ryder, who co-owns the pub with my sister, Maggie, who is the bartender. Carter who has an organic farm. And David who runs a restaurant supply business.”
The three guys struck poses as if trying to intimidate Nash. He wasn’t alarmed. Not after the A&R reps, label execs, and diva performers he’d dealt with for over a decade.
Nash removed his sunglasses. He didn’t extend his hand because he was in enemy territory. “Nice to meet some of Ivy’s family. I’m Nash Bennett.”
One brother bared his teeth as if he were a guard dog.
Another, maybe Carter the farmer, pinned Ivy with a hard gaze. “Explain what he’s doing here.”
Oh, this should be good. Nash crossed his arms over his chest.
She opened her mouth to speak.
Maggie, her face flushed, stormed into the kitchen. When she met his gaze, anger flared in her eyes. “No one out there is certain if you’re Nash Bennett or not. Including me. If you are, I want to punch you. But that will have to wait because enough buzz and rumors are flying you might not be safe here.”
The brothers grumbled.
“Not now,” Ivy snapped.
“Later then,” Carter mumbled.
“We have to get you out of here,” Maggie said, her words rushed.
Ivy glanced around. “How?”
“It won’t be the first time.” Nash wanted to ease Ivy’s concerns. “Though this is a smaller venue with fewer exits.”
“He can put on a chef’s jacket and hat.” Ryder grabbed the items from a small room off the kitchen. “Will sometimes runs out for an ingredient if we run low or when he’s on a break.”
Nash had no idea who Will was, but the idea was solid. “Thanks.”
Ryder glared. “I’m doing this for Ivy and the pub, not you.”
Nash raised his hands. “Understood.”
And he did. Understand that was. He’d hurt their sister when the family was at their lowest point. He wouldn’t be so understanding, either, which was why Ivy’s forgiveness continued to amaze him.
He put on the jacket and replaced his beanie with the chef’s hat.
“I can drive you,” Ivy said.
“As I mentioned, this isn’t my first rodeo. Let them think I’m Will.” Nash straightened the chef’s hat. “I’ll walk directly to the hotel. I’ll go now so no one is the wiser.”
Ivy started to speak and then stopped herself.
He wanted to kiss the worry from her eyes. “I’ll text you when I’m in my room.”
“Please do.”
“Before I go.” Nash pulled out a wallet and handed a fifty to Maggie. “For my drinks.”
She took it but said nothing.
Ivy touched his arm. “Be careful.”
“I’ll be fine.” But given the mood of her four siblings, he was more worried about her than himself. “You take care, okay?”
With that, he hurried out the door. As he walked through the alleyway, he saw only a raccoon scavenging for food in a dumpster. When he turned onto the crossroad that intersected with Main Street, a few people glanced his way but only for a moment.
Nash kept a brisk pace all the way to the hotel. When he stepped inside, relief flowed through him.
Someone cleared his throat. It was Bob, who shook his head. “Do I even want to know why you’re dressed like that?”
* * *
Ivy had never wanted to face a firing squad, but she imagined the people aiming at her might have more sympathetic expressions than those from her four siblings. She had a feeling they were about to go ballistic on her.
“Nash Bennett?” Maggie’s tone was vitriolic. “I’ll have to sterilize the entire bar now.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t have cooties.”
“Why are you singing with him?” Carter asked.
David shook his head. “Why did you let him kiss you?”
“The kiss was unexpected,” Ivy admitted, but it sure was nice. Best not to share that part, especially with her brothers. Though Maggie didn’t look happy, either.
“Why is he here? He’s your mortal enemy,” Maggie reminded. “Did you forget what he said to you?”
No, Ivy would never forget, but… “I forgave him.”
Four jaws dropped. Her siblings stared at Ivy as if she’d lost her mind.
“Why?” they asked in unison.
She didn’t feel right sharing what Nash had told her during his apology, but her sister and brothers needed an explanation. “We talked on Sunday. He explained why he said what he did but made no excuses. He feels bad over what happened and apologized.”
Carter rolled his eyes. “Ten years too late.”
“Better late than never,” Ivy countered. “He never watched the show. He didn’t remember judging me.”
David blew out a breath of air. “That makes it worse.”
“Forgiveness is important.” Ivy’s gaze went to each of her siblings. “Or have you forgotten what Mom taught us?”
“Forgiving him is one thing,” Maggie said in a serious tone. “Singing with him is another. The two of you seem…friendly.”
“Nash wants to cut one of my songs. He’s going to help me find a music publisher. We’ve also written a song together.”
She expected mouths to gape again, only they scowled instead. Tension filled the air.
“What?” Ivy asked.
“I understand the music part would appeal to you. But the guy is bad news.” Compassion filled Ryder’s gaze. “He’s helping you out of guilt.”
“He admitted feeling guilty,” Ivy said.
“Once that guilt is gone, you’ll never see or hear from him again,” Ryder added. “Bennett’s offer to help with a music publisher could be hollow.”
“No.” The word shot out of Ivy’s mouth. “Nash wouldn’t do that.”
Ryder’s mouth thinned. “You know him that well?”
Okay, less than a week didn’t qualify as knowing someone that well. “No, but—”
“He nearly destroyed you,” Carter interrupted. “He’ll do it again if you let him.”
David nodded. “How can you trust him with your music or anything else—including your heart—after what he did to you?”
“Hearts aren’t involved,” Ivy countered, but she wondered if that was true.
Maggie wrapped her arm around Ivy. “You were head over heels in love with Nash when you were a teenager.”
Her brothers nodded.
Seriously? Ivy stared at each sibling. Was no one on her side? “It was a crush.”
“You had a pillowcase with his face on it,” Maggie reminded.
Ivy had forgotten about that. She shrugged. “So did a lot of girls.”
“You barely survived the last time he hurt you, Ives.” Ryder using her childhood nickname meant he was pulling out all the big guns. “We’re worried what will happen when this is over and how you’ll be affected.”
When, not if.
None of them believed this would end well. But Ivy did.
“What if all of you are wrong about him?” She wanted to show them how different Nash was from ten years ago. “Do you want me to tell him not to record my song
?”
“Of course not.” Carter dragged his hand through his hair. “But don’t build whatever’s going on into something more.”
“Keep it about songwriting,” David suggested.
“No more kissing” was implied.
Her four siblings had formed a united front. For Ivy’s sake, she understood that, but they didn’t know Nash. If they did…
That gave her an idea.
“If I agree to be careful with Nash, will you give him a chance?” Ivy asked. “It’s not like he’ll be in town for much longer.”
The four glanced at each other. Some unspoken communication passed among them.
“We’ll give him a chance,” Ryder said finally. “But if he hurts you again, he’ll regret the day he ever heard about Quinn Valley.”
Ivy appreciated how her sister and brothers had her back. Just as she had theirs. “Thanks. But I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”
Maggie hugged Ivy. “Neither can we.”
* * *
Nash texted Ivy that he made it to the hotel. After he explained what happened, Bob hadn’t lectured him. Instead, the man had smiled, offering to return the chef uniform to the pub. Nash had taken it off in the lobby and then rode the elevator to his room. By the time he reached the door, Ivy had replied.
Ivy: Glad you made it safely. See you tomorrow?
Nash: Yes. Where?
Ivy: Picnic in a town over? I’ll bring lunch. Meet me there at 11?
Nash: Give me the address. I’ll be there.
He would have preferred to speak with her rather than text but assumed she was dealing with her family. They could talk at the park. Besides, he had someone he needed to call.
Reluctantly, Nash hit the button on his contacts.
One ring and the line connected. “Please tell me you didn’t do anything else stupid?”
The frustration in R.J.’s voice was nothing new, but Nash wished his manager would show a hint of concern. “Define stupid.”
“Really, Nash?” R.J. groaned. “What happened?”
Again, no “Are you okay” or “Have you been injured?” Maybe R.J. was going with the odds given how Nash had messed up before. But for once he had no regrets. Not with Ivy. “I may have blown my cover by singing at a local pub.”
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