I searched my memories, then asked gently, “Mrs. Bailey passed about five years ago, right?”
Ivy stared back into her wineglass. “Yes,” she said softly. “I was only twenty-three, just out of college. I just had people in town manage the property for me until I was ready to move here.”
“I’m so sorry, Ivy. She was a nice lady.”
She met my eyes. “You knew her?”
I laughed. “We haven’t talked about our pasts much, obviously.”
Ivy grinned. “It’s more fun to bicker with you about why we should have a woman president already.”
“Oh yes. Or why I need to be out marching in the street for climate change.”
Ivy pursed her lips. “Just trying to help you be the best you can be, Mr. Spencer.”
This woman. Why did half our conversations feel like foreplay? And shouldn’t I want to avoid that? “At any rate, I think you know Sully and I worked together in college and began dreaming up the brewery then. What you might not know is that’s when we reconnected. My grandparents lived in Highland too. They moved down here when my grandpa retired from his job in Chicago. I came down for so many summers growing up, got to know Sully and Max a bit then. And as for your grandma, it’s Highland. You know how it is. No one is really a stranger. But yeah, she was friends with Lou. She knew Max’s grandma and mine.”
“So we could have been here at the same time, in the same summers?” Ivy looked at her wine, a bit lost in thought. I watched as she sighed, then shook her head. What was she thinking about? “And I’ve met Lou but haven’t mentioned who my grandmother was. Was Max’s grandma like Lou? How about yours?”
I put my head back and let out a big laugh. Meeting her eyes, I shook my head and watched as she visibly relaxed.That’s better, I thought. It was unreal how I wanted to take care of this woman. “No, not many people are like Lou, which is good for us all. Not sure what we’d do if they were.”
Ivy was looking at her wineglass again but released an adorable snort. “Well, life would be a whole lot more interesting, that’s for sure. Emma’s told me stories about when she lived next door to her.”
“The town is filled with stories about Ms. Lou. Her husband, Verdell, is a saint.”
Ivy took a deep breath as she met my eyes. She looked pensive. “Jake, my house wasn’t easy growing up. Or it certainly wasn’t for someone like me. My parents and I are as different as you can get. But my nana? She got me. I came down here for a lot of summers and would stay with her, away from the disapproval of my parents, the expectations I couldn’t measure up to. My biggest regret in life is that Nana didn’t get to meet Addie. They would have been two peas in a pod.”
I watched Ivy as a tear or two welled in her eyes, and my heart broke a bit. Fuck her parents. Before I could tell my feet to stop, I found myself taking the three steps to cross from my counter to hers. I placed my beer on the tile counter to her side, then took her wineglass and did the same. Everything in me screamed to kiss her, but it looked like she was almost vibrating with emotion. Her knees opened up, allowing me to step closer and lose myself in those gorgeous eyes. The need to hold her, to comfort her, was all-consuming and foreign as hell. There was a catch of her breath, but no words telling me to stop. We locked eyes, and I brushed a bit of her hair back, tucking it behind her ears.
“Ivy, if it’s okay with you, I’m going to give you a hug. I think you might need one.”
Slowly, she nodded as I pulled her flush with me. Her arms wrapped around to my back as she took a stuttering breath and buried her head into the nook of my neck. Her exhale was huge, and I wondered how much she was dealing with on her own.
My first thought was that I’d like to stand like this, holding her, every night in the foreseeable future.
My second thought was that my brother was right. I was in some major trouble here. And what surprised me more than anything? I wasn’t sure I cared.
9
Matchmaker
Ivy
I took a breath and debated my next move. Sitting on the counter, my legs were currently spread beyond what my mother would consider was decent. Jake stood between them, his chest pressed against mine, my head tucked in his neck, and I was certain his glorious cream Henley might have a tear or two from me when I pulled back.
Yet I didn’t want to pull back. Not. One. Bit. I wanted to sit here, on my counter, in my own kitchen, with his arms around me for at least the next hour. Or maybe twenty. Yeah, a large part of me just wanted to soak in this form of comfort from Jake. The other part of me wanted to show him I was strong enough on my own. To remind him that I didn’t need him. Or maybe to remind me. The internal struggle left me paralyzed. I felt Jake’s lips move on my neck and goose bumps rose up everywhere. Dang.
“You okay, Ivy?”
Okay. Let’s define okay. I’m guessing the fact that my heart rate had increased by what was surely a minimum of twenty beats a minute wasn’t okay. But he didn’t need to know that. Right?
“Yeah,” I whispered. Damn it, that sounded breathy, didn’t it?
“You sure about that?” Hmm, he sounded a bit breathy too. What was that? I leaned forward and felt a certain hardness pressed against me that I had a feeling had nothing to do with the miles he ran. Well, that was interesting. Noted.
His hands tightened at my hips. My own hands began running up and down his back on their own accord. I mean, seriously, it was like my brain had waved the white flag and given up. My body was working on instinct, and that might be dangerous.
It took all the willpower I had in my entire body, along with some I called upon to rain down from the universe, and I pulled back to meet Jake’s eyes. They were intense. My romance books would likely called them heated. My mouth watered because clearly I was no longer in control. I ran my tongue over my lower lip. Of course I did. What was this life? Jake’s eyes watched, then he looked back at me. I bit my lip, not sure at all what we were going to do here.
