“Hey, Jake,” she whispered.
Did I just say hey back? Kiss her? Pull her in and go for it on the floor just beyond the front door? Probably not.
“Hi,” I said, stepping back to let her pass. It felt wrong, all wrong. A little over a week ago we’d jumped each other in her bedroom and it was the best sex of my life. Now? I didn’t know what this was, what to call it, but we were far from where I wanted to be. Noah wasn’t here, but he was metaphorically between us. Or my reaction to him was. Damn, this was terrible.
“Come on back,” I said, leading her to the kitchen. As we walked in, Chief made his presence on the back porch known at the door, hopping like a kangaroo to hit the door handle.
I glanced back at Ivy. She was grinning at Chief as he bounced in the windows because of course she was. For him, she had a smile.
“Beer and wine in the fridge. Help yourself while I let him in.”
Ivy nodded and headed toward the fridge.
As I opened the door for Chief, I quickly grabbed his collar so I could wipe off his paws before letting him loose in the house. He tolerated it, but barely.
I let him go, and he headed straight for his water bowl. Water sprayed everywhere as he gulped some down, then plopped to the floor in exhaustion. His tongue lazed out of his mouth, and he looked at me as if to tell me he thought I was incredibly lazy not to run laps in the yard with him. I shook my head.
“Can I get you a beer?” Ivy asked from her spot at the door of my fridge.
“Sure, want to pull out that growler?” I asked, grabbing two glasses.
“What beer is this?” She moved to the counter with the growler.
I placed the glasses on the counter, filling each only a third of the way. I picked one up and gave it to her. “This is the beer I told you we’re brewing for the Reds event. Really, it’s just one we wanted to try out and thought it would be a good beer to have at Christmas due to the pine flavor of a West Coast IPA.”
She picked it up and took a whiff, holding the glass close to her nose and closing her eyes. Her long blond hair fell in waves over her shoulders and down her back. She’d already tossed her coat over one of the stools at the counter and was wearing leggings and a long-sleeved deep purple shirt with a hood. Her clothes skated over her curves, hugging and highlighting them to a maddening degree.
She opened her eyes, and they locked on mine, taking my breath away. Clearing her throat, her voice was gravely. “Smells good.” Her eyes didn’t leave mine as she lifted the glass to take a sip, then let her tongue catch the beer on her lip. “Mmm,” she said, her eyes widening as she looked back at the glass. “I like that.” She drank the little beer that was left in her glass before holding it out to me for more. “You have a name yet?”
I finally took a drink and looked away from Ivy. I needed to gain some control, but I worried that was a lost cause. Refocusing, I grabbed the growler. “Want a full glass?”
“Yes please,” she said, holding out her glass.
I filled us both up and then gestured at the stove. “Pasta with red sauce, sausage, and peas. Sound okay?”
Ivy glanced at the items I had out on the counter. “Sure, what can I do?”
I nodded at the stool. “Sit and relax. This is easy and I’ve got it.” I said as I moved to assemble the sauce.
The pasta would be done in a minute. I’d already added the frozen peas to boil with it. Then it was just a matter of adding tomato sauce, cream, and parmesan.
Pasta sorted, salad was already made in the fridge. I quickly worked as I looked over my shoulder at Ivy. “So, the beer. We’re naming it after a James Taylor song, ‘Fire and Rain.’ Know it?”
She smiled. “I absolutely know it, but that surprises me. It’s not exactly Disturbed or Soundgarden. I’m assuming there’s a story there?”
I nodded, straining the pasta and returning it to the pot. As I made the sauce, I filled her in. “Yeah, I can’t remember if I’ve told you this or not, but Drew invested in the brewery this summer. Well, specifically, he invested in the canning.”
Ivy laughed lightly, which made me look back at her. She raised her hands. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. Promise. And no, you haven’t told me about Drew investing, but Maggie worked with me all summer and this fall. I know all about Sully’s response to impending fatherhood. I mean, I learned about it after it was all sorted, but Maggie did share.”
I shook my head as I returned to stirring the pasta. Looking at the sauce, I assessed it as my dad had taught me. It needed a little more parmesan, then to cook on low for just a few minutes to come together. Looking back, Sully’s response to fatherhood and wanting to play it safe wasn’t unlike Ivy’s current response to the sales slump this summer. Hmm.
I moved to grab two plates and looked to Ivy. “Can you grab the salad from the fridge?” She moved, and I continued as I plated up our pasta and passed her bowls for our salad. “So, yeah, Drew invested. Sully and I talked about finding a beer to dedicate to him—”
Ivy looked to me as she picked up our salads. “Got it, firefighting, ‘Fire and Rain.’ That’s awesome. Does he know yet?” She asked, then turned. “Where did you want to eat?”
I picked up our pasta. I nodded back to my dining room table. “I have some papers for the Reds of Christmas in there.”
Ivy nodded and led the way. Reaching the table, she let out a whistle. “Wow, Jake. This is…”
