“Two final questions, starting with this. They say we often learn about love by the examples set in our youth. In just two sentences, tell us what couple influenced you most, and how you would describe their relationship.”
Wow, they were really asking for it, weren’t they? But maybe this would work in his favor. Perhaps it was answers like this that would keep him from moving into that final contestant slot.
“My parents,” he said holding up a finger for the first sentence. “And to describe their relationship…I can do it in one word.” He squared a good hard look at her then, and spit out the only definition that would do it justice. “Toxic.”
There, did she want him to elaborate on that topic too?
The crease between her eyes, the sad, softened pull at her brow, said she didn’t.
“Last question,” she said, her voice nearly defeated. She gulped, cleared her throat, and spoke louder then. “Why should you be one of America’sLooking ForLovebachelors?”
Ah,this was a good one, easy to botch to the hilt.
“Ishouldn’t,” he admitted. “I’m sure there are a whole lot of men out there, dying to find their somebody, whoever that might be. But I’m not one of them. In fact, I don’t think I’ll be ready for that for a very long time.”
Ivy’s lips hardened into a straight line. She widened her eyes next and nodded a knowing look toward the camera.
When he did nothing in response, she huffed out a breath. “Then why did you audition? And why agree to the interview?”
He guessed she was forced to ask the question, since she already knew the answer. This time he wouldn’t reveal the truth. Instead, he’d offer something else. “I guess I just changed my mind,” he said, tightening his jaw to show he was done.
It felt as if they were in a standoff, the way she held his gaze and stared him down while he did the same, unabashed.
“Is that all of your questions?” he urged, hoping to call an end to it once and for all.
Ivy reached for the phone and snatched if off the barstool. “Yes,” she said, tapping the screen with her thumb. “That’s all.” Irritation poured off her tone. Her frustration was evident in her quick and angry movement as well. She thumped at the screen some more before pressing a small button alongside to shut off the device. At once she tugged at the neck of her shirt and wedged the phone in what he could only assume was her bra.
“I can put that over here on the table if you don’t want to—”
“It’s fine,” she spat, grabbing the books off the barstool and putting them back where she’d gotten them.
He watched as she stomped back to the stool, snatched it off the floor, and hurried it back where it had been as well.
“Hey, some people’s past isn’t very pretty,” he defended. “What, did you want me to make up some pretty little tale?”
“No, Easton. It’s fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. And why had he liked the way she called him by his name? As if she were already, after just half of a day, so familiar with him?
His stomach growled in the quiet pause, causing him to realize how long it had been since he’d eaten. And how long it must have been since she’d eaten too.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“No,” she spat, but then added to it. “Maybe.” She moved back to her bench, turned it to face the fire instead of him, and plunked down onto it.
Easton glanced down at her sock-covered feet, a thick wool pair he’d leant her. Ivy’s leg bounced restlessly as she stared into the fire, her jaw visibly set into a tight clench.
Helplessness quickly gave way to irritation of his own. This was the reason he didn’t want a relationship. He didn’t like playing games. Having to guess at what the other was thinking. Stewing over every imagined possibility as if—
“I don’t know which parts were true and which parts weren’t,” Ivy blurted, shooting to a sudden stand. “That’swhy I’m frustrated.”
…Or maybe shewasn’tgoing to make him guess after all. He followed her movement with his eyes, from one side of the yurt to the next as she paced back and forth. “I get that you didn’t want to do this, but this is my career, you know? I’m supposed to push and pry and get all the information I can and you…you made that impossible!”
Easton tipped his head. “How?”
She paused mid-stride and darted a glare at him. “By…by giving me one-word answers that brought my questions to a screeching halt.”
“Did you want me to lie?”
