27. Ivy
CHAPTER 27
Ivy
I don’t want this day to end.
I’m sitting around a bonfire, sipping a vodka seltzer and listening to the stories being exchanged by a dozen people who are either related or who have known each other forever. There’s laughter and good-natured finger-pointing as three or four of them are insisting that Harrison was behind the senior prank, while he’s laughing and denying it.
“I swear, it wasn’t me. If it was, I would take credit, trust me.”
“That’s true,” Ford’s sister says with a nod. “Harrison will never let us forget his accomplishments.”
Ford is sitting next to me and he leans in and brushes a quick kiss against my earlobe, causing me to shiver. “I have a confession,” he murmurs. “I was the mastermind behind the senior prank.”
I pull back and eye him. “What? Are you serious? Though I can see that relocating the principal’s entire office to the football field would be just your style. They say not a paperclip was out of place.”
Ford nods. “And yet, no one believes me, even though I’ve tried to take credit. I have a spotless reputation.”
That makes me grin. “That’s because they didn’t see you last night. That’s a whole different side of you.”
He nudges my knee. “You bring out the growly in me.”
I lean against his arm. “I like that side of you.”
“I’m going to show you yet another side.”
At first I assume it’s a sexual innuendo—which I’m all for—but Ford jumps up off the log we’re sitting on and maneuvers through the crowd, heading back toward the nylon gazebo he and Harrison popped up earlier to give us relief from the sun.
I turn my attention to Harrison and Liam, who are bantering about the s’mores they’re making.
“You’re toasting your marshmallow wrong,” Harrison tells him.
“I want to do it this way.” Liam has four or five stacked on his metal skewer and is turning it over the fire like it’s a spit.
“They’ll never cook that way.” Harrison only has one on his skewer and has it buried in the flames. “You have to really get in there.”
“I don’t want to burn it.”
“How many bonfires have you been to?”
“Uh…one?” Liam says.
“So none, since you posed it as a question.”
Crossing my arms across my chest, I hug myself a little. I’m wearing Ford’s sweatshirt since it got chilly when the sun went down. I wasn’t really cold, but I wanted to wear his shirt. I raise a sleeve to my nose and take a subtle sniff. Sandalwood and burning wood. I love it. I’m not cold now either, I just am ridiculously happy.
Watching Liam and Harrison with each other makes my heart full. Being here with them, and Ford, makes it feel almost impossible to imagine my regular life back in California.
Harrison is trying to shove Liam’s skewer into the fire.
“Stop. You’re so annoying,” Liam tells him, even as he leans closer into Harrison’s personal space.
Harrison removes his own marshmallow, and it’s charred to within an inch of its life.
“Perfect,” he declares. Then he pulls it off and holds it up to Liam’s lips. “Taste.”
“No.” Liam pulls away.
Harrison taps Liam’s bottom lip with the marshmallow anyway, leaving a sticky smear behind. Then he leans in and licks it off of Liam. “Definitely perfect.”
Liam grips the front of Harrison’s T-shirt.
I shift on the log, suddenly warm. God, I just love watching them fuck each other. Even this, where they’re just eyeing each other with naked desire, turns me on.
Harrison turns and presses his marshmallow between two graham crackers and two blocks of chocolate. “Ivy, try my creamy center.”
I laugh while Liam rolls his eyes. I oblige Harrison and take a tiny bite, pulling away when the sweetness hits my palate. “Mmm, I love your creamy center.”
A woman sits down next to me and gives me a smile. “I see Harrison is up to his usual tricks. I’m Celeste. I was his date to prom, but just as friends.”
“I’m Ivy, it’s nice to meet you. We’d love to hear all of Harrison’s tricks, wouldn’t we, Liam?”
“I think I know them all,” Liam says.
“He flirts with food,” Celeste tells us. “He’s always trying to shove something in your mouth when he likes you.”
For a split second, we just freeze. But then Celeste realizes what she’s said, and we all burst out laughing.
“That didn’t sound right.”
“But very, very true.” Harrison puts the s’more to Liam’s lips. “There’s more where this came from.”
“I can’t, I’m laughing too much.” Liam waves the s’more away and meets my eye. He’s grinning.
I’ve never seen Liam so light and carefree as he is here in Honeysuckle Harbor, and it’s not because he isn’t going to work. He loves his writing career, and he loves the show he’s been such an integral part of creating.
It’s us .
All four of us. Together.
And this town, with its beautiful beach, quirky residences, and adorable shops.
The pace here suits him.
Since we decamped to Harrison’s beach house this morning, Liam went out for coffee in the morning and to play chess with the retired guys. He spent a few hours writing in Harrison’s home office or on the back deck facing the ocean, then helped the Ford put together our burgeoning picnic basket for our beach dinner. He even agreed to play golf with Harrison’s and Ford’s dads tomorrow.
Liam’s grumpiness has been nonexistent and when we found out my jilted-bride-house sold, he didn’t look pleased about it either.
I’m not ready to go home.
Not even when I get up for another vodka seltzer and I practically run into Brad’s father.
It’s been pretty damn easy to forget that Brad’s from here and his family lives here, even with the house sale looming over me.
There’s no forgetting it now. “Oh, hi!” I say, a little flustered.
“Ivy! I heard you were in town.” Doug Richardson holds his arms out for a hug.
I return it awkwardly, but grateful he’s not upset with me for invading Honeysuckle Harbor. “Yes, I’m here to sell the house Brad bought.”
“I, uh, I have to say I’m sorry that Brad ran out on you the way he did. That wasn’t right and I’ve told my son that.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry you came all the way to California for a wedding that didn’t happen. Honestly, that’s on both of us. We should have called the wedding off months ago, but I didn’t really realize that.” Or I did, and didn’t want to admit that.
“I hear you’ve been running around town with Ford. Did that have anything to do with things falling apart?” Doug doesn’t look angry, just curious. He also looks a little drunk, swaying a bit on his feet in his parrot T-shirt and swim trunks.
I’m still wary. I’m not surprised he’s heard some gossip though, given everyone seems to know everyone here.
“No, not at all. That wasn’t on my radar at all. Ford has been there to…comfort me.”
“That’s what we’re calling it these days?” Brad’s father laughs jovially.
“I’m going to blame the beer for that sounding a tad insulting, Doug,” Ford says from behind me.
“Oh, hey, Ford.”
I should have known the guys would notice where I was and who I was talking to.
Ford slips an arm around me, his hand splaying possessively over my stomach as he pulls me back against his body. Clearly he’s trying to make a point.
“You didn’t mean to insinuate that Ivy cheated on Brad, did you, Doug? Or that I messed around with a friend’s fiancée? That we might have been the problem when clearly it was Brad who walked away.” There’s a steely tone in his voice.
I look up at him. He’s staring Brad’s father down.
“No. That’s not what I meant,” Doug says.
Then Ford kisses the top of my head. “Not that I’m not thrilled with how it turned out. But you should know that Ivy and I are simply moving forward now that Brad made this decision.”
Doug is nodding earnestly. “Yeah, yeah, of course. I didn’t mean anything else.”
“I know you’re sorry for making Ivy uncomfortable,” Ford says.
“Oh, I’m—” I start, but Ford squeezes me and I press my lips together.
Doug focuses on me. “I’m sorry, Ivy. You’ve always been very good to Brad and you didn’t deserve what he did. But Ford is a good man. I’m glad you’re happy.”
I nod, squeezing Ford’s arm. “Thank you, Doug. I am.”
“So, how are you?” Ford asks Doug.
“I’m fine. Considering the FBI is swarming our house and accusing my son of some shady bullshit.”
I feel Ford’s body tense. “They’ve been at your house?”
“Yes, the whole investigation into Brad allegedly misappropriating funds or whatever. Barking up the wrong tree, I’m sure of it, but yep, they’re crawling all over our house. The Mrs. is worried about her Waterford crystal getting broken. I’m just worried they’ll find my weed. Haven’t they talked to you yet?” he asks me.
I shake my head vigorously. “No. They left a voicemail but I haven’t called them back.”
“Better do that tomorrow. I expect they’ll want in your house with a search warrant.”
I nod absently. “Okay. Thanks for the warning. Take care.”
I forget all about getting another seltzer as Ford turns me toward the bonfire, and we walk back.
This information about Brad clears up the FBI calls and I decide not to say anything to the guys right now. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t share any bank accounts with Brad, and the house here is fully in my name. I don’t know anything so I don’t feel like I have anything to actually worry about.
“You okay?” he asks.
I look up. “Yes.” He looks unsure. I squeeze his hand. “I’m fine. He’s drunk. And he didn’t really say anything that bothered me.”
“I don’t like the suggestion that you and I were messing around before your breakup.”
I smile up at him. “Just in our imaginations.”
He grins. “Right.”
“ We know the truth. It doesn’t really matter what other people think.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course.” I squeeze his hand. “And everyone who really knows you knows that you’re not the type to do something like that.”
He lifts my hand and presses a kiss to the knuckles. “You’re right. But my imagination got very inappropriate.”
“Promise to give me a demonstration of a few of those imaginings later.”
His gaze is hot, but also full of affection, when he says, “Any time, anywhere.”
We claim seats on a log near the fire and Ford reaches behind the log and pulls out a guitar. To my complete delight, he starts strumming it as if he does it all the time.
I put my arm around him and give him a side hug. “You play the guitar? You get sexier by the minute.”
He gives me a slow smile. “That’s what I was aiming for.”
Harrison sits down on the opposite side of me. “Play her a song and get her sexy ass all turned on for us.”
Ford plays a few chords, then he starts singing.
Instantly, I’m transfixed. He has a warm smooth voice as he sings, “Hey there Delilah,” alternating between looking at me and the guitar strings.
“Damn, he’s good,” Liam murmurs, sitting down beside Harrison.
Harrison slips a hand over my knee and puts his other arm around Liam.
Wanting all of us connected in a chain, I ease my hand into Ford’s pocket so I don’t disturb his playing but I’m still touching him.
Not many people seem to be taking much notice of us, and those who do are smiling or look amused.
I wouldn’t care if they were glaring.
Nothing can ruin this moment.
Because I realize without a single doubt that I’m in love with all three of these men.