“What do you mean?”
“Her experience. You might have been raised by the same people in the same house, but her experience was different from yours, because she hadyoulooking out for her.”
Whoa.That was insightful. Impactful too.
A burst of warmth bloomed in his chest. Easton hadn’t thought of it that way before.No.People were designed differently right from the start. And Chantelle, she’d always been more optimistic and carefree.
But what if he’d been the reason for that?
As hesitant as he was to take any credit, Ivy’s observation had a ring of truth. A truth that was burrowing deeper into his heart even still.
“I like that idea,” he admitted under his breath. Nowhiseyes were welling with tears. He blinked them back quickly and cleared his throat. “I was shooting for keeping her alive.” He laughed. “And distracting her enough that she didn’t know how bad things really were.”
“You must have done a good job at it.”
“Thank you.” For a reason he couldn’t explain, Easton felt lighter suddenly. As if a giant burden had been lifted right off his shoulders. A burden he hadn’t even known was there.
“So your sister wants you to find someone,” Ivy said. “Isthis—enrolling you in theLooking For Loveshow—her first attempt to get you dating?”
If only. Easton shook his head. “Not even close. She’s set me up on dates, created profiles for me on dating sites, the works.”
Ivy grinned. “I bet she’s pretty awesome.”
“Oh, she is. You two would get along, I think.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. She, like you, puts at leastsomefaith in the whole TV dating scene. She loves that kind of stuff.”
Ivy chuckled. “Hmm. I like her already.” She lifted a hand to her forehead as she spoke, then lightly traced her fingers over the bandage.
Easton leaned in to inspect the dressing. “Is it bothering you?” He hoped it wasn’t getting infected.
“Kind of. It just started throbbing out of nowhere,” she said.
“Maybe our conversation was giving you a headache,” he joked.
Ivy gave him a playful slap. “It’s not. But itistugging at my heartstrings a little.”
Andshewas tugging at his. “How about I take a look at that wound?”
At his request, Ivy scooted in closer, reminding him of the way she’d done that very thing the night before. While asking him to kiss her, that is. The mere recollection made his mouth water. It almost made him regret not breaking out the peaches.
Of course, if anything were to happen between them, which was something he was feeling a lot more open to, Easton wouldn’t want the moment to be stemmed by an artificial high or a loss of inhibition.
“Let me grab the kit,” he said, standing to make his way over to the cabinet. He hurried back to her and, with careful, glove-covered hands, pried the corner of the tape from her hairline. He caught hints of that sweet vanilla scent as he pulled in a shallow breath, inspecting the wound carefully. The gash had clotted nicely, and was already sealing shut. “No sign of infection,” he told her. “But the dressing needs to be changed out.”
He quickly prepared a few strips of tape, sensing Ivy’s gaze on him all the while.
He tried very hard not to get distracted as he cleaned the area, applied ointment, and prepared a new mesh bandage, but he couldn’t help but hear her musings from the night before—she’d been wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
Were similar thoughts running through her mind tonight, or had that simply been the moonshine talking?
Ivy had hummed off and on as he attended to her, yet only as Easton applied the final piece of medical tape did he recognize the song.
“You singing Christmas carols for me?” he asked, realizing that she was likely used to hearing carols this time of year. “Are you the type that listens to Christmas music on your own, or just at the mall and parties?”
She seemed to consider that. “I used to listen to it on my own.”
