Finn looked over her shoulder. His body stilled. His grin dropped.
"Devon Park," she said. "Finn Hargrove."
Devon stepped forward, hand already extended. "I’ve been following along. The clips are extraordinary."
Finn took his hand. "Mm." That was all.
Devon’s smile held, recalibrating in real time. "There’s an authenticity to it. It’s the kind of thing you can’t manufacture."
"You're saying you see authenticity between me and Ivy?" Finn asked.
"Yeah, the fans are eating your act up."
"It's not an act." Finn's arm went around Ivy.
Ivy's nose went into his chest. She wanted to burrow herself in there; in his clean earth scent. He smelled of tomatoes and thyme and Finn.
Devon blinked. "Right, yes?—"
"We're going to be late." Finn cut Devon off, his attention solely focused on her.
It was probably right there that she fell for this man. Finn wasn't interested in the glamor or the glitz of the food world. He cared about the soil, and the taste, and people's enjoyment. Right now, his gaze told her that he cared about her wellbeing in the place she stood. He could see the bitter taste Devon was leaving in her mouth. He cared that she was not enjoying herself at this time.
She felt suddenly, acutely aware of everything that hadn’t been said. Of the kiss that hadn’t happened. Of the one that had, the night before, still living somewhere between them.
Devon stood in the way of Ivy reliving last night's kiss and receiving a brand new one today.
"Well, it was good seeing you again, Devon. But Finn and I need to head out. So…."
TheSowas accompanied by a hand wave towards the open door. Devon did not take the hint.
"You haven't heard what I came here to tell you about, Ivy."
"I'm not interested in another food competition, Devon."
"Oh, no, no, sweetie. This offer isn't for a competition. It's for your own show."
He laid it out cleanly. A development deal. Food Network. Regional American food series. Twelve episodes, option for more. The numbers were real. The platform was real. The scale was bigger than anything she could build for herself on socials.
"It's everything you’ve been building toward," Devon said.
Ivy leaned into Finn. Finn's hold loosened. Ivy did not let him go. Not physically, but her mind was reaching out to test the bounds of the offer on the table.
CHAPTER TWENTY
For a fraction of a second, when the door opened and Finn saw the man standing behind Ivy, something in him tightened. He'd been cheated on before. What teen, filled with hormones, hadn't had the urge to search for greener pastures as everyone in their age group was developing and discovering things about themselves? But somehow, he knew this wasn't what was happening with Ivy.
The man's jacket. His shoes. The way he stood in her space as if he belonged there, when he clearly did not. He wasn't from here. From her past, then. Finn wanted to be Ivy's future, but he had made the decision to ground himself in her now.
Finn was here now. He belonged in her space, and she belonged in his. That's why he reached out and tucked her into his side. That's why she came, more than willing, and let him stake his claim on her. Ivy looked proud to wave her Finn-flag as she snuggled into his chest.
Yeah, he was all in.
The rest of it—whoever this man was, whatever history he carried—didn’t change that.
Finn had spent the morning in that certainty. The text exchange had resolved something in him he hadn’t expected tosettle so quickly. Which was why he moved quickly through his morning chores on the farm and raced over here. He wanted more than the picture of her; he wanted to taste her again.
But there was a man in her kitchen offering her a television show. A future that existed somewhere else.
