Chapter 3
IVY
This diner made the North Pole look under-decorated.
The Soda Jerk was a fifties-style restaurant located across from the Wildwood Valley Inn. It was a charming place, complete with pastel booths and a black-and-white checkered linoleum floor.
But right now, every square inch of the place was draped in Christmas decorations.
Garland was wrapped around every booth, twinkling lights outlined every window and doorframe, and at least a half dozen different Christmas trees were scattered throughout the dining room, each one themed differently.
There was a candy cane tree by the counter, a vintage ornament tree near the jukebox, and what appeared to be an entire winter village displayed on a shelf that ran the perimeter of the restaurant.
It was gloriously, ridiculously over the top. And I loved every bit of it.
The hostess led us to a booth by the window, where we were surrounded by people who seemed to know Gunnar. He got plenty of waves and a couple of fist bumps as we walked through.
Once we were seated, I looked around. “Has anyone ever considered opening a third restaurant here?” I asked, looking out the window.
It had gotten dark in the time it took us to cross the street, get in our cars, and drive the very short two-minute distance from the festival grounds to the diner. But there was enough light to see the inn and the pancake restaurant across the street.
“The town is growing,” he said, “but not that fast.”
He was looking down at his menu as he spoke, and I took the opportunity to drink in his features.
He was just so darn handsome. I didn’t know anyone could look that good.
His features were rugged, almost severe, but his eyes softened when they met mine.
He was a teddy bear inside—a guy who’d do anything for the people he cared about. That kind of guy was my dream man.
“We get tourists from all over,” he said. “People come off the interstate and stay at the inn, but a restaurant can’t survive on that alone. We’re also a small town, and just a couple of exits up, you have more direct visibility from the interstate. We’re tucked away a little.”
“You have to come off the ramp before you even see what’s going on here,” I agreed.
“Exactly.” He looked up at me then, and my heart went a little melty. I had to take a few deep breaths to calm my racing pulse. “So what about you? Where are you from? Is this your full-time job? Do you have a storefront, or do you run it out of your house? So many questions.”
I smiled. “My home’s in Cincinnati, but I’ve been traveling around for these fairs. Until recently, I was just covering expenses, but now I’m starting to do pretty well for myself. I’m putting money aside in the hopes of making a down payment on a house or condo.”
None of this sounded as exciting as it would have a couple of months ago.
I’d had a condo picked out downtown and had visions of living an exciting city life—walking to restaurants and coffee shops, running my online business from a desk in the corner of my bedroom, and getting together with friends for girls’ nights out on weekends.
Why was I suddenly thinking that might not be the best life?
“As for a storefront, I do everything online. Maybe someday I’ll do brick and mortar, but I don’t think so. My stuff is a little too niche for that.”
“What about a boyfriend?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to answer, but suddenly the server appeared at our table to take our drink orders.
“I’ll have a Coke,” I said quickly.
“Coffee for me,” Gunnar said. “Black.”
The server—a teenager with bright red lipstick and a Santa hat—nodded and bounced away.
“So,” Gunnar said, settling back in the booth. “Boyfriend?”
“No boyfriend,” I said. “Never really had one, actually. I have very little patience for immaturity and jerkish behavior, so I find myself kicking guys to the curb at some point during every first date.”
I watched his expression change, saw something shift in those pine-green eyes. Oh no. I was scaring him off already, wasn’t I?
“Not that you’re like those guys,” I rushed to say, my voice coming out higher than normal. “You’re different. You’re not—I mean, you’re—”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “How am I different?”
The server reappeared with our drinks and pulled out her order pad. “You folks ready to order?”
“Uh...” I grabbed the menu, scanning it quickly. Everything was typical diner fare—burgers, fries, milkshakes. “I’ll have the classic cheeseburger with fries.”
“Steak sandwich for me,” Gunnar said. “Medium rare. Fries on the side.”
“Got it.” She scribbled on her pad and bounced away again.
Gunnar was still watching me with that amused expression. “You were saying? How am I different?”
I felt heat creep up my neck. “Well, you’re mature. And intelligent. You’re the take-charge kind of guy who actually gets things done instead of just talking about it. Plus you’re…” I gestured vaguely at his face. “You know. Hot.”
His eyebrows rose slightly.
“I mean, attractive,” I corrected quickly.
“In a rugged, mountain man kind of way. Not that I’m objectifying you or anything, it’s just—” I was digging myself deeper with every word.
“The truth is, most guys my age are immature and selfish, and I always pictured my first time being with someone who actually knows what he’s doing. ”
The words were out before I could stop them. Gunnar went very still.
“Your first time,” he repeated slowly.
I nodded, my face now burning with embarrassment. “I’m a virgin. Which probably makes me a total freak at twenty-three, but I’ve always figured I’d rather wait for the right person than settle for some college guy who’d be more interested in his own pleasure than mine.”
The silence stretched between us for what felt like forever. I held my breath, knowing exactly what I wanted to say next, but not sure if I had the courage to speak the words.
Finally, I took a shaky breath and met his eyes. “Actually, I want it to be with you.”
“Ivy,” he said finally, his voice rough.
“I know it’s crazy,” I rushed on. “I know we just met, and I’m probably coming on way too strong, but—”
“Stop.” He reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “It’s not crazy.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “It’s not?”
“No.” His thumb traced over my knuckles. “But are you sure? This isn’t something you can take back.”
The gentleness in his voice, the way he was giving me an out even though I could see the want in his eyes—it only confirmed that he was exactly the kind of man I’d been waiting for.
“I’m sure,” I said. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Something shifted in his expression, heat replacing the careful concern. “Then we should probably get out of here.”
I laughed, feeling giddy and nervous and excited all at once. “What about dinner?”
Gunnar’s eyes never left mine as he signaled for the server. “We’ll take it to go and eat it at the festival grounds. I have some plans for our stakeout.”