Sure, she couldn’t complain how Maggie and Ryder provided enough hours at the pub so Ivy could support herself. Or how David, who owned a restaurant supply company, dropped off food samples, especially desserts, given to him by clients. And each week, come rain or snow, Carter delivered a box overflowing with produce, eggs, and honey fresh from Quinn Organics—his farm. He also kept her freezer filled with beef from his cattle.
Ivy was grateful for her siblings’ generosity and appreciated their concern, but she needed them to see she was living the life she wanted. She may not have replaced her dreams of moving to Nashville and taking her shot at stardom with another, but that was okay.
O-K-A-Y.
If only they could understand that…
She filled a container with the silverware.
The quiet in the kitchen made her glance around. Will, the assistant chef, must be on his break because he’d been here when she went to her car. “How is Bethany feeling?”
“A little tired, but she’s resting and binging on her new favorite show tonight.”
“Still having morning sickness?”
“Not as much.” Ryder plated an order. “Some smells still get to her, but she won’t let it hold her back.”
“Of course not.” Ivy liked her sister-in-law, who’d brought her amazing culinary talents to Quinn’s, much to the delight of customers, and love to Ryder’s life, much to the benefit of her brother. “You married a strong woman.”
He nodded. “Anyone who can put up with a Quinn has to have a backbone.”
“No kidding.” Avery, Carter’s wife, and Charlie, Maggie’s new husband, were the same as Bethany. “There are so many new significant others or spouses joining the family I wonder who’s next. Grams has been positively beside herself.”
“Wait until all twenty-five Quinn cousins get married.” Ryder laughed. “Grams will float off the ground, and her friends will throw a gigantic party.”
The friends—Betty, Maude, Nellie, and Ruby—were their grandmother’s besties who met every Wednesday to gossip and drink tea or coffee. On more than one occasion, those four same friends had helped Gertrude Quinn play matchmaker.
“Better find yourself a husband A-S-A-P so you don’t make our branch of the family look bad,” Ryder teased.
“David will have to be the next one. If I’m not working or performing, I’m trying to find some place that wants me to sing.”Or writing music.That was what Ivy did when she wasn’t at the pub. “I have no time to date. Forget about marrying anyone.”
Ryder raised his eyebrows. “Have you told Grams?”
“No way.” The words shot out sharp and staccato. “I don’t want her to go into matchmaker mode.”
That brought another laugh. “You can’t stop Grams. Matchmaking is in her DNA. She’s determined to see all of us married.”
Even though Grams might not give up so easily, Ivy shrugged. “Our grandmother will have to live with me being single.”
Ryder peeked inside the oven before glancing at Ivy. “Good luck with that.”
Ivy wasn’t worried. Well, not that much. She glanced around the kitchen. Nothing else needed to be done for now. That could change in five minutes.
Ryder set two plates under the warmer. “This is for table seven.”
She picked up the orders—meatloaf and macaroni and cheese.
“We’re running low on tonight’s dinner special,” Ryder said. “Do you want me to save you a serving?”
“No, thanks, but I’m impressed you’re handling this so well. You step in for your wife like it’s nothing.”
“Same as Carter does with Avery when need be.” Ryder sounded nonchalant. “It’s how marriage works.”
A longing built inside of Ivy. Even though she’d dated in high school, music had been her priority. A part of her wouldn’t mind having someone in her life to rely on like her three married siblings had. Granted, her family—immediate and extended—would do anything for her, but sometimes not even the gaggle of Quinn relatives was enough.
“I wouldn’t know.” A moment of weakness was all she could allow herself. She forced her spine to go ramrod straight. “But I’m not planning to find out soon.”
She carried the plates out of the kitchen.
