34. Landon
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Landon
The party winds down in slow, glittering waves. Fairy lights hum overhead, the bounce house deflates in the corner, and the last of the toddlers melt into their parents’ arms—sugar-drunk, face-painted, and sticky with frosting.
The yard that looked like a dream hours ago now looks like the aftermath of a small, pastel-colored war.
I find Ivy in the quiet, away from everyone’s laughter. She’s sitting on the edge of the pool deck, sandals kicked off, her dress brushing her thighs, her bare feet trailing just over the water.
Her hair’s a little messy and her eyes are red—she cried earlier. Hard. And she pretended she was fine after her parents left, but I know better.
I’ve been watching her. Every moment since she stepped into my life, I’ve been watching her.
I walk toward her, something heavy in my hands. Not heavy because of the weight, but because of what it means.
She looks up when my shadow falls across her. “Hey,” she murmurs, voice soft, worn.
“Hey yourself.” I crouch down in front of her, set the velvet box in her lap. “For you.”
Her brows knit. “Landon, you already?—”
“Open it.”
Her fingers tremble as she undoes the clasp. Inside, nestled against dark velvet, is the necklace I had made weeks ago.
A delicate chain of gold, fine but strong, and at the center, a pendant shaped like a compass. Inlaid with a single, small sapphire.
Not too flashy. Not too much. Just enough.
She gasps, her lips parting. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s more than that,” I say quietly, taking it from the box and unclasping the chain. I lift it, brushing her hair gently over one shoulder.
The curve of her neck, pale and smooth in the low light, makes me pause. I fasten the clasp, letting the compass rest just at the dip of her collarbone.
“It’s a reminder. Wherever you are, you’ll always find your way back. To us. To here. To home.”
Her hand rises to touch it, her thumb skimming over the cool metal. Her throat works as she swallows. “Landon…”
I can’t stop myself. I lean in and kiss her.
It’s not hungry, not messy—not the way it was earlier, when our bodies tangled with no thought of the world outside that bed. This is slow. Intentional. A claiming that feels more permanent than any orgasm ever could.
She breathes against me, her hand sliding up my chest, her other still clutching the pendant like it might anchor her.
When I pull back, I press my forehead to hers. My voice is low, steady, meant just for her. “You don’t have to give up anything, Ivy. Not your dreams. Not your career. Not us. You can study. You can pass the exams here and practice law right in Miami. We’ll help you. Whatever you need.”
Her eyes widen, glassy now. “But New York?—”
“Forget New York,” I cut in gently. “That dream was built on someone else’s terms. You can build a new one here, with us. With everything you want. No compromise.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, but it’s wet with tears. “I can’t believe you’re saying this.”
Before I can answer, Hunter and Rhett step out from the house, drinks in hand. They spot us, and within seconds, they’re here—Hunter dropping onto the deck beside her with his easy grin, Rhett kneeling at her other side, his hand finding hers.
Brooke follows a moment later, barefoot, wineglass in one hand, Ace trailing behind her. Her eyes catch the compass at Ivy’s throat. “It suits you.”
Ivy shakes her head, overwhelmed. “You guys… I don’t even know what to say.”
Brooke sits on the edge of the pool, her feet dipping into the water.
“Then don’t say anything yet. Just know that when you’re ready, there’s a spot waiting for you.
Game Hatch could use a legal consultant.
Part-time. Flexible hours. You’d still have time for the babies, for school, for all of this. It’s yours, Ivy. No pressure.”
Ivy’s hand flies to her mouth. The tears spill over now, trailing down her cheeks. “I… I thought I had to give it all up. I thought I couldn’t have both.”
“You don’t have to give up a damn thing,” I murmur, brushing a tear away with my thumb. “You can have all of it. The career. The love. The family. Us. We’ll make it happen. Whatever it takes.”
She looks at each of us, her eyes wide and shimmering. Hunter leans in, kissing her temple. Rhett kisses her hand. Brooke squeezes her shoulder, steady and warm.
And me? I can’t hold it in any longer.
“I love you, Ivy.”
The words fall out, unpolished, raw, but truer than anything I’ve ever said in my life.
Her breath catches. More tears. Then her hand cups my cheek, her thumb brushing my jaw, and she whispers, “I love you, too. All of you. I didn’t think I could, but I do. I really, really do.”
Hunter groans softly, pressing his face into her neck. Rhett lets out a rough exhale, leaning his forehead to hers. Brooke smiles like she already knew, like she’s been waiting for Ivy to finally let herself believe it.
The compass glints against her skin as she clutches it, the sapphire catching the last flicker of the string lights.
I wrap my arms around her, and this time, when the tears come, she doesn’t hide them. She lets them fall. Because now she knows she doesn’t have to choose. She can have all of it.
And we’ll be here, every step, to make sure she does.