“She is.” His gaze tracks Madison as she laughs with Tracy. “I never thought I’d be the kind of man who throws birthday parties. But here we are.”
Ivy joins us, slipping her hand into Thorne’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And at this point, it is. “The girls want to do karaoke later.”
“As long as I’m on the other end of the house,” Thorne says.
“Oh no, they want you on stage,” Ivy teases.
He laughs. “Absolutely not.”
“It’s her birthday.”
“There are limits to my generosity.” But he’s smiling.
Ivy rises on her toes to kiss his cheek. He turns his head to catch her lips instead.
I look away, giving them privacy.
Later, after Madison has opened presents from her friends and squealed over new swimsuits and concert tickets and makeup palettes, we migrate to the dining room. The teenagers head downstairs to the pool, where Thorne has hired two lifeguards, giving them handsome tips in advance, with explicit instructions to watch over the kids in and out of the water.
I step out onto the terrace for air and find Thorne and Ivy already there, standing at the railing. His arms are wrapped around her from behind, her hands covering his where they rest against her stomach. They're not talking, just watching the stars, and there's something so peaceful about them that I almost turn back.
But Thorne glances over his shoulder. "Come here, Lilly."
He puts an arm around my shoulder. “Thank you,” Thorne says quietly. "For helping tonight. For all of this."
"It's Madison's birthday. Of course I—"
"No, I mean, thank you for giving me a million chances. For not writing me off as the bastard I was for most of your life." He looks at Ivy. "For believing I could be better than Dad."
She turns in his arms, her palm cupping his jaw. "You are better. You were always better. You just needed time to see it."
"I needed you," he corrects, then looks at me. "Both of you. The whole family."
My throat tightens. Thorne is actually talking about feelings, actually admitting he needs people. Ivy didn't just change him. She unlocked the man he was always capable of being.
"We're glad you figured it out," I manage.
"Me too,” he replies.
Rosalia calls inside, and we move to the living room. Thorne takes the loveseat, pulling Ivy down beside him, their thighs pressed together. His thumb traces absent circles on her shoulder. She leans into him when she laughs at something Sebastian says. I’m not sure if they’ll buck tradition and never get married, but I’m certain they will be together for the rest of their lives.
Conversation flows easily. Mother asks Ivy about her new law firm, and pride shines in her eyes when she talks about her first major client. Sebastian tells a story about a grain supplier that went sideways. Rosalia talks about the new volunteers for her reading programs.
“Speaking of programs that help others,” Rosalia says, crinkling her nose in that way that signals she’s about to start some trouble. “Remember when you needed me to stay with that adorable French boy you tutor?”
“Yes, his nanny was running behind, and I had to leave for a doctor’s appointment.”
“Well, his dad picked him and he’s… interesting.”
Sebastian's hand finds hers, fingers intertwining. "Define interesting."
"His father, Olivier." She fans herself dramatically. "Hot enough to make me forget my manners."
The word 'Olivier' lands like a stone in my chest, but I force myself to breathe. Common name. Lots of Oliviers in France.
Sebastian chokes on his bourbon. Under any other circumstances, his outraged expression would make me laugh.
"Still not as handsome as you, babe," Rosalia amends, squeezing his hand. Then her grin turns impish. “But definitely top five in Kentucky."
