Chapter 27
Ivy
The bookstore smells like roasted coffee beans and paper, the familiar scent that always calms me.
I sit at the counter with my latte, tracing the rim of the mug with my finger.
My notebook sits open in front of me, but the words on the page are a mess with half-plans, half rambling thoughts about Remy that I don’t dare read too closely.
Willa leans her elbows on the counter across from me, her chin resting on her hand. She has been watching me, letting me stew.
“You’re brooding,” she says finally.
I glance up. “I am not brooding.”
“You are. And it’s starting to depress the customers. You’re going to scare off the regulars with your bad vibes.”
I try to glare, but it just makes her grin. “I’m fine,” I say, even though I know how unconvincing I sound.
She arches a brow. “You’re not fine. You’ve been sitting here for an hour pretending to drink the same latte.”
I sigh and push the mug away. “What do you want me to say, Willa? That I miss him? And I miss Junie. That I hate that we’re not talking? That every time I close my eyes, I see the look on his face that night in the barn?”
“Yes,” she says simply. “I want you to say all of that.”
My throat burns, and I rub at my chest like I can ease the ache there. “He really hurt me.”
“I know,” Willa says gently. “But I also know he’s been trying to make it right. And maybe it’s time you let him. Anyway, we’re going out there.”
I stare at her. “What?”
“We’re going to Remy’s.”
I blink. “Right now?”
“Yes, right now.” She grins, too satisfied with herself. “Come on, Ivy. It’s time you two talked. Plus, he has something to show you.”
I narrow my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
She just shrugs, all innocent.
“I’ll admit I’ve been curious about what Junie said the other day when she let something slip with Finn.”
“You’ve been miserable, and so has he. Let’s fix this.”
I hesitate, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter. My heart is hammering so hard I can hear it in my ears.
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” I say nervously.
“Sure, you are,” Willa says. “You just need someone to shove you out the door.”
She hops off her stool and grabs her keys.
“Willa,” I protest, but she just grins.
“Let’s go.”
The drive out to the farm is quiet, but my stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies. My palms are damp against my jeans, and I keep staring out the window like the trees might offer me advice.
“You okay?” Willa asks softly.
“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” I admit.
“That’s how you know it’s real,” she says, her tone light but warm. “Buckle up, babe. It’s time.”
As we turn up the long drive to the farm, I see the glow first.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. The whole place is lit up. Twinkle lights wrap the fence posts and line the driveway, and little wooden signs are propped along the road every few feet.
The first one says, We miss you, Ivy.
The next one says, Ivy, we have a surprise for you.
And then, Ivy, we love you.
The handwriting is Junie’s careful, slightly wobbly letters, painted in bright colors with little hearts and flowers doodled around them.
My hand flies to my mouth. “He had her paint signs?” My voice cracks.
Willa’s eyes are suspiciously shiny as she pulls to a stop. “Yeah,” she says softly. “He did.”
When we pull up, I see him.
Remy is standing on the porch, hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders tense like he has been standing there for hours waiting for me.
The Jeep’s headlights flash over him and then die when Willa cuts the engine.
“Go,” she says gently. “He’s waiting for you.”
My legs feel shaky as I climb out, but somehow, I make it to the porch. He doesn’t move toward me, just watches me with those deep, stormy eyes that make my stomach flip.
“Ivy,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
The words hang in the air between us, heavier than they should be.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he adds, his voice rough.
I nod, my throat tight. “I’ve missed you, too.”
I take a step closer, then another, until I am standing right in front of him.
“You really hurt me, Remy.”
He swallows hard. “I know.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, the words tumbling out. “I swear I would never let anything intentionally happen to her.”
“I know,” he says again, his voice steady now. “I was scared. That’s not an excuse. I hurt you, and I hate that I did that. I want you, Ivy. We want you. Our family feels complete with you here. I don’t want you to ever leave us.”
My chest aches so badly I press a hand against it.
“I need to figure out what I’m doing with my life,” I whisper.
He nods. “Can you figure it out here? With us? We’ll encourage you to chase all of your dreams, and we will support you every step of the way.”
I blink hard, tears threatening, and nod.
His face falls with relief.
“I want to show you something,” he says.
He steps back and holds the door open. I follow him inside, my heart thudding against my ribs.
The house feels warm and alive. I notice things I hadn’t before with framed photos on the mantle, most of them with Junie, but some with me. One of me and Junie in my mom’s garden last summer before I really even knew Remy like this, one of all three of us on the porch steps this winter.
My hand goes to my mouth. “Remy…”
“There’s more,” he says softly.
He leads me into the kitchen. A photo on the kitchen island of the three of us at the tree lighting ceremony, my head thrown back laughing. I didn’t even know anyone took that photo of us. But it’s a real life candid photo showing us doing life together, and we look like a family.
“You did this?”
He nods, still watching me.
My chest squeezes so tight I almost can’t breathe.
“One more thing,” he says, his voice quiet.
He leads me to the front hall where his storage room is. My breath catches when he swings it open.
The room is glowing with soft light. The walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that are navy, full and colorful, a rolling ladder gleaming in the corner.
A rug warms the center of the room, and a cozy chair sits by the window.
Soft golden lamplight shines on end tables and makes the room cozy and inviting. It’s beautiful.
My hand flies to my mouth, and a laugh bubbles out of me, half shocked and half amazed.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, looking almost nervous.
“You, beast,” I say, still laughing through tears. “You made me a library just like Beauty and the Beast.”
He rolls his eyes playfully, relief softening his face. “Do I need to keep you locked up here to get you to stay?”
“No.” I smile through happy tears. “You don’t have to lock me up. I had already planned on staying.”
I cross the room and throw my arms around his neck, kissing him like I had been waiting to do it for weeks.
When we finally pull back, he cups my face in his big hands. “What do you think?”
I look around at the shelves, my chest so full it almost hurts. “You did all this so fast.”
“Plenty of room to add more,” he says. “I’ll give you the world, Ivy Maren. If you’ll let me.”
My gaze catches on the canvas on the wall, the picture from the tree farm of all three of us. Junie’s in front of Remy, his arm around me, and both of us are smiling. It’s one of my favorite memories.
I touch it, my throat too tight to speak for a moment.
“I love it,” I whisper finally. “I love you.”
He kisses me again, softer this time, like a promise.
A little voice pipes up from the hallway. “Can I come in now?”
We turn to see Junie hovering in the doorway, bouncing on her toes.
“Are you all made out?”
“Made up,” Remy corrects her with a laugh.
“Whatever,” she says with a dramatic eye roll. “I just miss Ivy.”
I crouch down and open my arms. She barrels into me, nearly knocking me over, and I hold her tight.
“I made you signs!” she says proudly.
“I saw,” I say, grinning through the tears that won’t stop. “They were perfect.”
“Are you back for good?”
I glance up at Remy, my heart catching. “Yeah,” I say softly.
“Forever?” Junie asks, her little voice hopeful.
I look back at Remy. He smiles, warm and certain.
“Forever,” I say.
Junie squeezes me tighter.
From the doorway, Tate appears with my overnight bag slung over his shoulder. “Brought your stuff,” he says, setting it down.
I look at Remy again, my heart hammering, and he just nods like everything is finally where it’s supposed to be.
Junie pulls back and looks at me with those big, hopeful eyes that undo me every single time. “Can we read a book in here tonight? In the new library?”
My throat gets tight again. “I would love that.”
She cheers and races toward the shelves, her little boots thudding on the floor. “Which one do we read first?”
“Whichever you want,” Remy says, smiling.
“Even the big ones?”
“Even the big ones.”
Junie lets out an excited squeal and starts running her fingers along the spines. She looks so small in here, barely reaching the second shelf, but she moves with the certainty of someone who already knows this space belongs to her.
There’s even a shelf in there full of new books for her. I love that Remy thought of everything. He really would give us the world.
I stand and turn to Remy. He’s still watching me, his hands in his pockets again like he doesn’t know what to do with them.
I step closer and press a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “This is perfect, Remy. You didn’t just make me a library. You made me a home.”
His eyes soften. “I wanted you to know you belong here. That you always have.”
My heart swells until it almost hurts. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I did,” he says simply. “Because I needed you to see that I’m serious. I’m not going anywhere, Ivy. Not now, not ever. And if that means building you a floor-to-ceiling library like some fairy-tale beast, then so be it.”
I laugh, a little breathless. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” I admit. “I love you more, though.”
“Good,” he says, and kisses me again, longer this time, until Junie groans loudly from across the room.
“Are you done? I found a book!”