Chapter 19 #2
But I’m not lying—those jeans and that camel-colored jacket make the blond in his hair, which tends to look brown, pop out. Nothing he’s wearing hides the insane muscles underneath his clothes or the fact that he’s the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Joe clears his throat. “I wouldn’t complain if you brought back some spicy wings.”
“Wings. Y-Yeah. Sure,” I stammer, coming out of my stupor.
“The spicy ones,” Joe repeats.
“Spicy. I got it.” But do I? My brain isn’t exactly working at full capacity right now.
This is bad. This is really bad.
“Ready to go?” Ford asks. “We can take my car.”
“Yeah, okay.” I squeeze Joe’s arm as I pass him, begging myself to start acting normal. “Be good, and don’t eat too much ice cream or your stomach will hurt—speaking from experience. I love you.”
“Love you too. Have fun, and don’t forget the wings.”
“I won’t.” I will do my best not to, at least. “Bye, snot.”
“Bye, Ives. Bye, Ford.”
He waves. “Bye, buddy. We won’t be back late.”
Joe disappears inside his bedroom, and Ford follows me out the front door. Feeling his presence behind me, knowing we’re going to a bar together, just the two of us, isn’t helping my Be Normal plan in the slightest—but I can do this.
I’m a mature woman with an unrequited crush that will pass in no time. Maybe spending time with him will open my eyes to the fact that we can’t be more than friends. I have to try.
My Be Normal plan goes out the window the second we enter the bar and Ford’s hand lands on the small of my back, guiding me through the crowd.
In my defense, I put in some honest effort. We bickered about country music in the car—he likes it; it’s not my thing—and I only looked at his massive hands on the steering wheel twice. Everything was going well.
But now one of said hands is on my body, and the protective gesture is sending my heart into overdrive.
I’m touch starved. It’s just that.
After Ford signs us up for trivia and we order a beer each, we sit at one of the tables reserved for the game and wait for the rest of the seats to fill.
The guy behind the bar explained that each team has six members, there’s a round of twenty questions, and each member of the winning team gets a thirty-dollar voucher to use at the bar. It sounds fun enough.
Ford sips from his beer, then sets it on the wooden table with a clunk. His eyes are on me. “Ready for trivia?”
I peel the wet label of my beer bottle. “Sure am, but fair warning—I might suck. High school wasn’t really my thing.”
I’m not particularly worried about embarrassing myself in front of Ford—I’m way past that, given the unfortunate circumstances this poor man has seen me under—but I could use some free spicy wings for Joe.
He bumps his knee against mine under the table and leaves it there. I don’t move away either.
“This is just for fun. The questions shouldn’t be too hard,” he encourages me.
“Were you a good student in high school?”
“Mostly Bs. I would’ve done way worse if our mom hadn’t sat down with us to do our homework. She supervised us.”
“Are you close to your parents?”
“Yeah. All of us are. My brothers, I mean.”
Far from feeling jealous or bad that I don’t get to experience that, I’m happy for them. Everybody deserves to have a family they can rely on.
“After they retired, my parents bought a house down in Deerfield Beach to get away from the cold. They love the area. Our family spent a few summers down there when my brothers and I were teens, so we have fond memories of the place. My parents are there now with our aunt and uncle, but we video chat often.”
“Hey, guys.”
I turn in the direction of the vaguely familiar voice behind us. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise when I spot Ian standing at the edge of our table, smiling.
“Oh, hey.” I smile back. “Are you here for trivia night?”
“We sure are.” He gestures to the two men who are talking to each other behind him. “Mind if we sit with you? Unless you already have a team.”
“Sure, you can join us,” I tell him.
As Ian takes the chair next to me, Ford dips his chin in acknowledgment.
“Well, well, well. I can’t believe my eyes,” Ian teases, his eyes on the man whose knee is still pressed against mine. “Cap at trivia night? I thought I’d never see the day.”
Is that a grunt from Ford?
“Don’t get used to it.”
Despite Ford’s gruff tone, Ian’s smile doesn’t falter. “I’ll take what I can get. Good to see you, Cap. I don’t think you know my friends here.”
Ian introduces us to Rob and Mack, his high school friends. Like me, Ford is also meeting them for the first time, and it makes me wonder if he and Ian are friends or simply coworkers.
His friends go back to their conversation while Ian turns to me. “So, Ivy, I don’t think I’ve seen you around Harmony Hills much, other than that one time you gave us the goodies after the restaurant fire. Are you from here?”
“I am. I’ve been living away the past three years, though. Maybe that’s why I’m not on your radar.”
“Oh, cool. Where did you live before?”
I spend the next few minutes telling Ian about my time in New York and answering his questions about what it’s like to live in one of the busiest places in the world. He seems fascinated, and I like that he looks genuinely interested in our conversation.
Unlike the grump next to me, who hasn’t so much as uttered a single word since Ian and his friends sat down.
The waiter climbs atop a small stage and taps on the mic. “All right, people. Trivia’s about to start. Are you ready for some intellectual action?”
Ian and his friends cheer before taking a big gulp of their drinks. Ian goes the extra mile and even throws me a wink. “Ready to kick some ass, Ivy?”
The game ends up being fun. I know some of the answers, and so do the guys, but it’s not enough to win that juicy voucher. Honestly, it doesn’t even matter—Ian and his friends spend most of the time making jokes and messing with one another, which amuses me more than anything else.
“I swear I can’t take these guys anywhere,” Ian says in Ford’s and my direction when one of his friends—Mack, I think—chokes on his beer at something the other said. “Sorry we didn’t win, by the way. I feel like that was on us. Near high school dropout speaking.”
I wave him off. “It’s okay. We weren’t too hopeful to begin with, but I had a good time.”
He smirks. “That’s all that matters, then.”
I return his smile and glance at Ford, who has been weirdly quiet the entire night. “Hey, grumpy. You okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, sounding a lot like the man who loved to ignore me all those months ago. The switch-up makes my stomach drop a little. “You?”
“I’m fine,” I say slowly, lowering my voice. “Is there something wrong?”
“No.” And there’s that. Short, cold, borderline rude. What the hell is happening? “Are you ready to go?”
He’s being weird, and I have no clue why. He was the one who invited me here, so why is he acting as if this is the worst idea he’s ever had?
“Ford, did I do something?” I ask him quietly, not wanting Ian and his friends to hear.
“You’re good.”
I’m good. Okay.
Feeling more than a little frustrated with him and this childish behavior that has come out of nowhere, I grab my bag. “I’ll order Joe’s wings, and then we can go. I won’t be long.”
I don’t give him a chance to reply before I bolt out of my chair and head toward the bar, where the same guy who hosted the trivia game takes my order while I spiral.
We didn’t have to come. I was happy to stay at home and rest on my day off. Now I feel stupid in this dress, in this bar, when it’s clear that he regrets this non-date.
He doesn’t have to be such an asshole about it, but all right. If he wants to sulk, I won’t make him talk.
“Everything okay?”
I jump before I recognize Ian’s voice, his tall figure coming to stand next to me by the bar. He’s a little shorter than Ford, but still towers over me significantly.
Stop thinking about Ford.
I give him a nervous chuckle. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. You looked deep in thought.”
“Yeah, I….” I sigh, scratching my brow. “I’m a little tired, I guess. I don’t go out much.”
Saying that makes me sound so cool.
“I hope you had fun tonight anyway.” He sends me a lopsided smirk. “If you’re ordering another drink, let me buy it for you.”
“I’m just ordering some food for my brother. But thank you.”
He nods once, his hands in his pockets, and stays silent. But it’s the kind of silence that prefaces a question, one that he probably has been meaning to ask all night, and I’m right.
“Sorry if I’m being too forward, but can I invite you out for coffee tomorrow?”
Ian’s too friendly ways haven’t been lost on me. Not tonight, and not the few times we’ve seen each other. He’s been flirty before, but I thought that was just his nature. That he wasn’t interested in me, specifically.
Well, I was wrong.
I find myself hesitating. I had fun being on his team tonight, and he seems harmless enough, but…
But what?
From the corner of my eye, I see Ford coming toward us. The invisible but palpable storm around him. The stick up his ass.
What am I waiting for? Him? Please. He made it abundantly clear that he’s not interested in a relationship after his divorce, pushed me away when we first met, and is doing it again now.
I might have a crush on him, a very unfortunate one, but that doesn’t mean my crush can’t be undone. Plus, didn’t he say I should start focusing on myself?
“Sure,” I tell Ian as Ford reaches us on the bar. “I’d love to. I get off work at five.”
“Then five it is,” Ian concludes. “Does Jill’s Café sound like an exciting enough spot?”
“With those buttery croissants they make, it’s beyond exciting.”
“Great. See you tomorrow at five, then, Ivy.” His gaze travels to Ford next. “And see you on Tuesday, Cap.”
After Ian leaves, the waiter hands me a plastic bag with my spicy wings. They smell so good, my stomach rumbles despite me not being hungry.
“Ready to go?” I ask Ford, who still hasn’t said a word.
“You’ve got a date?” is what he answers, his voice sounding a little strained and weird.
“I wouldn’t call it a date.” Or maybe I would. I’m too rusty to tell. “But maybe? Yes?”
“You don’t know him.”
I frown. “Ian? He works with you.”
“Doesn’t mean you know him.”
“Is he a serial killer?”
“No.”
“Human trafficker?”
“Ivy—”
“Seriously, Ford. It’s fine. I may not know him, but that’s the point of dates.” I pay for the wings and make a beeline for the exit, Ford trailing behind me. The cold air hits my face a moment later, blowing my hair back. “Plus, we’ll be at a public place—Jill’s. You heard.”
“Yeah, I heard.” He unlocks the car, and we get inside. Only when he’s behind the wheel does he say, “He isn’t a bad guy.”
“You sound totally convinced about that.” I don’t mean to sound sassy, but I can’t help it when he’s being so stoic and weird. I thought we were over that phase.
“He isn’t,” he insists, starting the engine. “He’s a huge flirt, but harmless. I’m happy that you’re going out and meeting new people.”
“Mm….”
“I thought his friends were morons, but that doesn’t matter,” he adds, to which I don’t answer.
He’s behaving like the Ford I first met in that shed, and I won’t have it. If he’s not willing to act like an adult, I guess both of us can be childish tonight.
We stay silent the rest of the ride home until he pulls into his driveway. And when he does, I waste no time getting out of his car.
“Good night,” I call out quickly. “Thanks for the beer and the invite.”
“Ivy—”
I don’t turn around.
And, that night, I sleep like shit.