I want to tell her that I feel like I’ve been through the blender of life and have come out as a completely different mixture of a man. But the one thing that hasn’t changed is that I’m drawn to her now just as much as I was when we first met. The first time I saw her again, I knew. Despite all the factors keeping us apart, my feelings for her have remained untouched by time and space. Emmy’s delicate weight in my arms reminds me of the time lapse. There’s another life for which I’m now responsible. A precious life that I’ve vowed to prioritize above all else. My daughter needs me just as I need her, and putting her first is the driving force in my mind. But that doesn’t mean I don’t long for the gentle woman in front of me.
“That’s a complicated question for me now, Ivy.” The faint gruffness in my voice startles both of us. “Things have shifted since I first asked you that question.”
Ivy nods.
“I want to be known for being a good father to Emmy. Anything beyond that, I need to think about to answer honestly. Is that okay?”
Truthfully, I do need to think about it. Because there’s so much emotion wrapped up within both my memory of Ivy and her literal presence. I still need to sort through everything that I feel. There’s so much in my life that is yet unknown. We’re walking through the archetype for all enchanted forests. Here, magic abounds, and life isn’t complicated and confusing. Birch Borough is a place where life once seemed to suspend itself to bring us together. But then it also tore us apart. In the stage of friendship that Ivy and I find ourselves at the present, I’m not sure how much of the deepest parts of my heart to share with her quite yet. But I’ll learn.
“Of course, Jace.” Ivy’s voice is warm, her tone assured, with no hint of hesitation. “But just so you know, I’m here when you have your answer. I have a feeling I’ll really want to know what it is.”
“Same, Ivy,” I mutter as she walks with me until we have to go our separate ways. “Same.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ivy
The clock strikes one.
If I thought a room full of tiny, pre-K dancers with bunched-up tights and cap-sleeve leotards was the most adorable sight I’d ever seen, I was wrong. Very wrong. No, the most adorable sight I’ve ever seen is those tiny dancers surrounding a strong, rugged, and heartbreakingly gorgeous man wearing a tool belt as he works.
One might think Jace would feel uncomfortable amid all of these little ones, but again, they’d be wrong. He’s the picture of ease, working with a confidence that tugs at my feminine heart. Ever in his orbit, Emmy lingers nearby to assist the dancers younger than her. She teaches them how to hold their hands so they look more like arches than claws. Her dad is building a set in the corner of the room while they dance. He’s careful not to get in their way and has even joined in on singing for them when Emmy has asked him to. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d do anything for her. He’s been all rough edges and a stilted personality that fits like a scratchy new outfit since we first met, but with his daughter, he’s fully present, caring, and attentive. Nothing is too silly. Nothing is too outlandish. I think he’d wear one of our costumes if Emmy asked him. The love of a father is stunning.
Today, we’re holed up in the performance hall at the local high school for the first time, getting my students used to the stage. It doubled as an opportunity for some of the sets to be built or delivered here instead of having to stage all of it at Wicked Good Farms. It’s also a weekend, so it’s easier to get into the theater and not get in the staff’s way until their show later this evening.
I’ve had to refrain from squealing at least six times this afternoon at the joy of it all, and that’s nothing compared to how often I’ve dreamed about pulling Jace into my makeshift office (also known as the left wing of the stage) and claiming his mouth with mine. I’m not proud of the rogue thoughts, but my attraction to him is humming through my body and winding through my muscles. Not even stretching could ease this tension.
“Where do you want me next, boss?” Jace’s smooth voice speaks behind me.
I shiver. A woman can only take so much of his manliness before she internally combusts. I turn slightly, pretending that I’m focusing solely on my students, but in my peripheral vision, I see Jace leaning closer. The momentum of the movement causes him to shuffle forward a few inches. It’s enough to draw me straight into the radius of the heat and tension radiating off his frame. He clears his throat as I make him wait, the gravelly sound of it like tiny rocks kicked along a stretch of pavement.
“Well, um . . . if you could just . . . the sets . . .” My train of thought fades, at risk of being completely lost the longer I look at him.
“You’re doing great with these kids, Ivy.”
The abrupt change in subject startles me, but his words both instantly comfort and frustrate me. I’ve met men who thought what I do for a living is admirable but childish, and the few who have seen it as a worthwhile pursuit have been unbalanced. Thatis probably localized to the men I’ve personally met and doesn’t represent all men as a whole (I would hope), but it’s been a long journey. Moving from a world-class company back to my small hometown was hard. It took everything in me not to quit, especially since I’ve counted on donations for years, not just to keep the studio open but to support these kids that I love to the best of my abilities.
“Thank you,” I reply to Jace quietly. “And thank you for helping my students.” I turn my attention to the little ones dancing about, the piano music on a track reverberating throughout the space.
“Starlight,” he mumbles, and then I’m toast. The kind of toast that’s golden and just waiting for butter. Now, I’m hungry. Jace continues, “It’s okay if you needed this too. Everyone needs help sometimes. I know my family has been there for me countless times.”
I hum, turning toward him. I know there’s more to the story with his ex, but seeing Emmy without a mother is heartbreaking. I can’t imagine anyone being okay with leaving her. I’m so glad his family stepped in.
“Daddy!” Emmy rushes over, her dark hair curling at the end of her bun. It’s starting to unravel. “Hi.”
Jace leans down to pick her up as if she weighs nothing. Within seconds, she’s nestled in his arms and kissing him on the cheek. As if they’ve practiced it a thousand times before, she turns to push her cheek against his and gives the scrunchiest (I made that word up) smile. It’s adorable. In turn, Jace scrunches his nose and pulls her closer, his arms a big nest for his tiny bird, full of safety and warmth.
When she squirms, he puts her down while I try to will my brain to never forget that image for as long as I live.
“Catch ya later!” she yells, running back to the rest of the students and dancing with all her might, as if that little hint of affection gave her another boost of energy.
“Well, it’s clear that your family—those of them that I’ve met—really loves you.”
“They do,” he agrees with a nod. “But so does your family.”
“You haven’t met my family,” I say with a laugh.
“Oh, but I have.”
