“Looks good,” the guy said to Ivy, then wisely backed off.
She laughed softly once he was gone.“You don’t have to scare everyone away,” she pointed out.
“I do if they’re in your space,” Havoc said gruffly.
She paused, turned, really looked at him.“Why?”
The question landed between them, quiet and sharp.Havoc opened his mouth, then closed it.He didn’t have an answer that made sense, not one he wanted to say out loud.
“Because it’s my job,” he said finally.
Her gaze lingered a beat longer, then she nodded and went back to painting.Still, it felt like something had shifted.A thread pulled tight.
As the morning waned, the mural deepened.Shadows layered and highlights sharpened.The rider’s presence grew undeniable, like he might roll right off the wall and into the compound.
Havoc realized something then, watching Ivy step back and smile faintly at her progress.
He didn’t want to be on the road, certainly not right now.
Right now, this was where he needed to be, standing guard and watching creation happen instead of destruction.Feeling something other than the ache of absence.
Ivy wiped her hands on a rag and glanced his way.“You’ve been staring,” she pointed out.
He didn’t bother denying it.“You do good work,” he admitted.
Her smile was small but genuine.“Thanks for watching my back,” she said.Was she humoring him?It wasn’t as if she would come to harm here.This was probably the safest place in town for her.Could it be she was maybe flirting with him?Havoc found he didn’t mind.
He met her eyes, the tension between them humming low and steady.“Anytime.”
****
Ivy lost track of timethe way she always did when the world narrowed down to color and motion.
The wall had stopped being brick and mortar hours ago.It was a living thing now, breathing beneath her hands, demanding attention.She chased shadows with deeper blacks, softened edges with a dry brush, stepped back, leaned in again.Her shoulders ached and her fingers were stiff.Still, she barely noticed.
What she did notice was the quiet weight of Havoc nearby.
He hadn’t left, not once.He shifted positions occasionally, leaned against a post or stood with his arms crossed, scanning the compound, but he never wandered far.The awareness of him sat between her shoulder blades, steady and grounding.Protective, if she was honest.It did strange things to her focus, sharpened it instead of distracting her.
Her stomach growled loudly.Heck, the sound ripped through the quiet afternoon like a bad punchline.
Ivy froze, brush hovering midstroke, heat crawling up her neck.
“Oh, my God,” she muttered, mortified.
Havoc’s head snapped toward her, and he lifted one dark eyebrow.“You eat today?”Havoc asked.
She grimaced.“I had coffee.”
“That’s not an answer,” he muttered.
“I’m fine,” she said automatically, turning back to the wall.“I just want to finish this section.I’m on a roll.”
He stepped closer.The space behind her filled, his presence solid and unavoidable.Ivy became acutely aware of the heat of him, the quiet strength packed into his frame.
She caught his scent then, not just leather and road dust, but motor oil, metal, and something clean beneath it.Soap, maybe.It wrapped around her senses and sank in deep, grounding and stirring all at once.
“You’ve been at it for hours,” Havoc pointed out.
