Chapter Four
J axon packed up his work. After a full day of perfecting plans for a kitchen remodel, a site visit, explaining to a stubborn client why he couldn’t demolish a weight-bearing wall, and several hours of invoicing, he looked forward to taking a job with an established firm where he’d get to design single-family homes.
Finally, he could leave Hazard in his rearview mirror. What a name for a town! He was beyond ready to relocate to Boston. Serving as Hazard’s tragic figure was demoralizing. All those pitying glances at Leo’s diner, Throckmorton Grocery, Hopewell Nursery. Why did no one expect him to move on with his life?
He’d caught the ill-concealed whispers. “Poor Jaxon, whose wife fell to her death.” Oh sure, the outpouring of sympathy had helped him right after Candace died, but now? It stung. The community viewed him as broken.
He didn’t want to be broken.
The one place he never sensed any pity was the Ivy Way Tea Shop. The lovely owner of the cozy shop made him feel welcome. He’d even started drinking tea just to have an excuse to go in. The scones didn’t hurt a bit either, especially the blueberry ones. Those were the bomb. But the cheerful demeanor of the curvaceous owner was the real draw. He could spend hours basking in her sunny little shop, the focus of her green-eyed gaze.
The only hitch was that Ivette Wayland was a tenant. He needed to stick to business, and he needed to tell her he was selling the property. He’d had a generous offer from Derrick Cross, the managing director of the H.A.S. Homes, a man motivated to buy up property in Hazard, a Boston developer with plans. Money from the sale would fund Jaxon’s move to city life because, let’s face it, Boston would be a great deal more expensive than Hazard. Plus, his new salary would allow him to save enough to build his dream home. He’d improved his designs over the last three years. One day, he’d be able to afford the land where he could build.
For now, he needed to let his tenants know that they would soon have a new landlord. He especially needed to forewarn Ivy, because he knew she struggled to keep her business up and running. New landlords invariably raised the rent.
He’d put together a binder with all the pertinent information for his tenants. His commercial building had just gone into escrow. A few details remained, but he would likely be signing the final paperwork by the end of the month.
Jaxon glanced at the clock. He needed to get to his community baseball game, but he had just enough time to pop into the shop downstairs. Ivy would still be there, tidying up. He was sure of it. He’d often watched her go through the motions of closing while he walked Montgomery around the square. It took a long time for Montgomery to walk all the way around on those short little legs, stopping to sniff and nibble up every dropped crumb from the diner or the bakery.
For now, the pup was settled in his little bed in the corner with his favorite chew toy, a plastic, purple kitten that squeaked every time he bit down. Jaxon had stopped taking him to ballgames. The little troublemaker always managed to wriggle out of his collar and chase the balls, one time tripping a teammate rounding the bases. Roman had sprained his ankle, they’d lost that game, and everyone had blamed Jaxon.
Jaxon headed down the stairs. The afternoon light was just right to allow him to see through the tea shop’s plate glass window. He paused at the sight of Ivette Wayland.
The woman was perfection. Her honey-blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail that bounced with her when she walked. She stepped lightly, almost like she was waltzing while she swept the floor. He bet that she’d be humming a cheerful melody as she worked.
He opened the door she’d not yet locked, in time to catch the last refrain from “Some Day My Prince Will Come,” before she spotted him. She choked, a blush creeping up her face.
“Sorry, I thought you’d hear the chime on your door.”
“Oh, no, that’s Holly’s door. I don’t have a chime.” She tilted her head. “Guess I should get one. Hope I didn’t burst your eardrums with my warbling.”
“Not at all. Listen, do you have a minute? I need to speak to you about some changes.”
Ivy nodded. With a smile, she produced a pot of tea and a large metal tin that she carried out on a pretty tray to the center table, set with two high-back chairs. All the other chairs had been flipped up on the tables. It was almost as if she’d been expecting him.
She sat and began pouring into teacups, so he followed her lead. “Earl Grey, hot?”
“Your favorite.” She gave him a soft smile, and he relaxed. She had that effect, like there wasn’t anywhere he’d rather be. He pulled himself back to what she was saying. “So, I know we need to negotiate a new lease. Business is picking up for me. I expect it’ll improve significantly by the end of the month.”
Her hands moved swiftly and dropped below the table edge. Jaxon blinked. Had she just crossed her fingers? But when he looked again, she was sweetening his tea with two sugars just how he liked it and setting a white-on-white Lenox teacup in front of him. “I know you’ll need to raise the rent, the way everything else is going up these days, and I don’t mind.” She grimaced a little before her expression smoothed.
Clearly she did mind, but this conversation needed to go in another direction. It was only right. “About that.” Jaxon drew in a breath. Ivy smiled, and Jaxon forgot what he meant to say. Ivy took a delicate sip from her own cup. Jaxon’s eyes landed on her delicate hands, her fingernails painted the palest shade of pink.
He cleared his throat. “So, the rent increase. Five percent,” he blurted. It was what he expected her new landlord would do. Although they hadn’t had that discussion, it’s what his research indicated. Surely Derrick Cross wouldn’t raise it more than that. He might go as high as ten percent, but it was a small community. All the businesses in the complex were small, local enterprises.
Ivy gave a little frown.
Jaxon blinked and shifted at the slight downturn of her lips. “Too high?”
“Hmm,” her lips leveled out and tilted up on the side. “I was thinking more in line with half that.”
“Oh.” Half that might be an issue. She leaned forward. He got a nice eyeful of cleavage before he noticed that her smooth hands, adjusting the teapot, trembled a little. “Well, so, okay,” he told her.
“Thank you,” she graced him with that sweet smile. “We have a verbal agreement.” She spoke decisively.
Jaxon nodded and drank his Earl Grey. Ah, well, it would be Derrick’s problem, he supposed. He should speak up. He knew it, but couldn’t bring himself to contradict her. That tremble in her hands had cinched the deal. Selling should not put his tenants out of business. He just wanted out of Hazard. Jaxon needed to believe he could escape, and that nothing else would change.
“These are for you.” She handed him the antique tin.
Automatically he reached out, fingers brushing hers as they closed in on the cool metal. The contrast between the cold tin and the warmth of her skin made him clear his throat again. “That’s not necessary.”
“I want to.” Ivy leaned forward again. “You always look out for me. I’ve been able to build my business because you worked with me to keep the rent low. I’m grateful. I plan on expanding my menu and adding a few savory lunch items. What do you think? Would finger sandwiches be a hit?” His eyes dropped to her hands again. He almost reached out to clasp them.
Her hand flashed, fingers crossed, then not.
“A hit,” he said slowly, then shook his head, remembering he was late for his game. “I have to get to the baseball field. I almost forgot. We’re playing the road crew tonight.”
“Tough game?”
“Well, they’re a tough group of women. They usually win.” He gave a wry smile.
“Shall I come watch? It might bring you luck.”
“I’d love that.” He could feel himself beaming. What would it be like to have this woman in the bleachers cheering him on? He might even hit a home run.
“Anyway,” he scooped up the tin. They rose at the same time, and Jaxon found himself leaning toward Ivy as she leaned toward him. When she looked up, their eyes met, and time stopped. Jaxon jerked back to reality and straightened. He coughed. “I—”
Ivy shot out her hand in a businesslike gesture. “Let’s shake on our agreement.”
Jaxon tucked the tin under his left arm, and as he had been longing to do, took Ivy’s delicate hand in his right. His hand encompassed hers. Her fingers were warm and soft, like her.
They shook. Reluctantly, he let go.
Once outside, he wanted to smack himself in the forehead. Good lord, what had he done? First, he’d leaned forward like he was moving in for a kiss. Totally inappropriate. Second, no way was he supposed to be negotiating new leases. He was leaving. It wasn’t his place. But maybe, this way, her new landlord wouldn’t be able to screw her over.
Right then, Jaxon determined to write up the new lease after the game. He could drop it by tomorrow. It was only decent. Jaxon prided himself on always doing the decent thing.
Derrick Cross could lump it.
Jaxon ran upstairs and changed into his uniform. His phone buzzed, and he read the text from his teammate Joel.
“Your turn for treats. Don’t forget again.”
“What are we, twelve?” he muttered. Now he’d need to stop at the store on his way. His eyes fell on the tin.
“Perfect.” Ivy had saved him. She was good luck.
He snatched up the tin. Quickly, he put out fresh water and a dog treat for Montgomery. It was only fair since he had to stay home alone. Montgomery gave his peanut butter-flavored biscuit a delicate sniff, barked once, and gobbled it in a single swallow.
No sooner had Jaxon arrived at the game than Joel grabbed the tin. “What’s this? You’ve gone all fancy-schmancy. A tin with a curly-girly design on it? Seriously, dude.”
“It’s a fleur-de-lis . It’s French. Lay off.”
“French, you say.” Joel wiggled his brows and worked the lid off the tin.
“Careful, don’t spill those.”
Joel held the tin away from Jaxon. “Ooh, cookies? And they’re pretty cookies. I know you didn’t bake these.” He held one up with its pressed flower design. “Dude.” Joel took a bite and closed his eyes in ecstasy. He blinked at the cookie in surprise. “Wow, these are fabulous.” He took another bite.
“Of course they are; they’re from the tea shop. They’re for after the game and for the whole team, you oaf.” Jaxon made a grab for the tin, but Joel was too fast. “Quit eating them all.”
“You’re up to bat first, Jax. We need you to set the pace. You’re our star hitter since Roman busted his ankle tripping over your dastardly dog.”
“I’m the star hitter? Hardly.”
“Nah, we’re counting on you. Wait, you didn’t bring Montgomery the Menace, did you?” Joel glanced around warily.
Jaxon frowned. “He’s a tiny dog. He’s not dangerous, just, you know, enthusiastic.” Montgomery had been a gift he’d picked out for Candace. Montgomery had gotten him through a tough time.
“Yeah, well, he’s so tiny you don’t spot him underfoot until it’s too late. Your dog needs to keep his enthusiasm to himself. Game’s starting. You almost didn’t make it.” Joel gave him a shove toward home plate. “You’re up.”
Jaxon picked up a bat and walked to the plate. He swung it a few times to warm up before glancing at the bleachers. His breath went out in a whoosh. Ivy was there, next to her sister Holly. To her left were the four members of the Hazard Historical Society. Had everyone in town shown up to watch the game tonight? It was the Rebels, an all-male team versus the Roadies, an all-female team—the business owners versus the road crew. Everyone loved seeing the Rebels get their asses kicked by the toughest women in town.
He took a breath. Nell Coleman was pitching. That meant a fast ball, probably. Feet apart, bat ready, Jaxon braced himself. When the ball came in fast and low, Jaxon held.
“Ball.”
He straightened and got in position for the next pitch. He was ready. At the curve ball flying at his head, he almost held then realized he had to swing, or it would be a strike. At the last moment he swung and missed.
“Strike,” yelled the umpire, Toby, in her booming voice.
The crowd murmured. He had to do better. Joel was right. How he did would set the tone for the entire game. That was why they usually sent Roman up first. He was a real powerhouse.
Jaxon shook his head. He needed to stay focused on the ball, not the crowd. Except Ivy was in the crowd, watching. The next ball came in hard. He swung.
“Strike two!” yelled Toby.
Sweat coursed in a line down Jaxon’s back. Beads of perspiration collected on his forehead. The next ball and the one after that came in high. He held.
“Ball,” said the umpire.
Now Jaxon was sweating profusely. He was out of options if he planned to get a hit. With another ball, he would get a free walk to first base, or he would get a hit. He stepped back and gave a couple of practice swings. He hated the pressure of being up first. It shouldn’t matter so much, but it did.
He glanced at the bleachers over to the spot where Ivy sat, leaning forward, hands clasped. Those hands, her hands—he’d touched those hands, those small, soft hands. He stepped forward and got in position. His hands choked up on the bat. The ball curved with dizzying speed. Time slowed. Everything came into sync. Ball hurtling at his head, Jaxon swung.
Bat connected to ball with a loud thwack .
The crowd roared. Jaxon blinked as the ball flew high. For a moment, all he could do was look on in amazement. At the peak of the arc, he heard Ivy yelling, “Run, Jaxon, run!” He heard the little laugh in her voice.
He tossed the bat and sprinted, fast, for all he was worth. He was rounding second when the fans for the opposing team groaned at a miss by their outfielder, Tessa.
The ball smacked into the mitt of the third baseman, just as Jaxon sprinted past on his way home.
Home.
He slid in to the sound of riotous cheers, but the only voice he could pick out was Ivy’s, laughing and screaming. It was his first home run of the season.
He rose, dusted himself off a bit before he leaned over, hands on knees to catch his breath. He turned to glance at the stands. Ivy was on her feet, clapping, jumping, blonde ponytail bouncing, her sister tugging at her to sit down. He gave her a wave and headed to the dugout.
*
“Did you see that? It was amazing!” Thrilled, Ivy turned to her sister, eyes shining.
“It’s the first play,” said Holly, lips pinched. “We all know the Roadies will win.”
Affronted, Ivy sat straighter. “They might not.”
“Wanna bet?” Holly challenged.
“Yes,” said Ivy. “Yes, I do.”
“Confidence, dear, is very becoming,” said Hazel, leaning in from her left, “but perhaps not the wisest move in this case. My money’s on the Roadies. Those tough gals are total badasses.”
“Goodness, Hazel, language,” said Lydia, face tight in disapproval. “I’m rooting for the Rebels.”
Holly raised her brow. “Ten bucks?”
“You’re on.” Ivy shook with her sister, cinching the deal. Holly smirked when the bottom of the first inning finished with the Roadies getting double the runs of the Rebels.
Ivy watched, cheering for Jaxon and eating her way through chili cheese nachos, a tri-tip sandwich which she shared with her sister, followed by a mini hot fudge sundae from the Community Projects ice cream cart that showed up at every game. She cheered each time Jaxon caught the ball, threw the ball, or swung a bat. It was very stressful, wanting so badly for him to win. Eating helped. Comfort food was like that. She made a mental note to add more comfort food to her new menu. As she took another bite, she could swear Jaxon could hear her cheering. His eyes always found hers when he looked toward the stands.
But the question she was dying to know the answer to was : Had he eaten any of the cookies?
“Bummer, little sis,” said Holly, sounding smug, when the game ended.
“Wait, what? They lost? But they were doing so well.”
“Sure, until Tylene Baxter hit a homer with the bases loaded. Told you the Roadies would crush it.” She gathered up all their trash. “I love making bets with you.” She raised her eyebrows. “I especially can’t wait until the end of this month.”
“Yes, well, that is one bet you will most certainly lose,” said Ivy. Beside them, money was changing hands among the Hazard Historical Society board members amidst annoyed grumbles and smug smiles. Ivy primly handed her sister a ten-dollar bill. “I’m expanding my menu.”
“When did you decide this?” Holly narrowed her eyes and snatched the ten from her fingers.
“Don’t squint at me like that. I’m not infringing on your turf. I’m adding lunch items. I went through my recipes last night, and I have some awesome ideas.”
“Have you done any market research?”
Ivy mentally kicked herself. Talking business with Holly took so much effort. “Yes,” she lied. “I’m starting first thing tomorrow with a soup, and a quiche du jour. You’ll see. I know it’ll be successful.”
“Better be, to up your business by 30% by the end of the month.”
Ivy grimaced when Holly couldn’t see. Her and her big mouth bragging about something she’d barely given any thought. Now she’d be up half the night, figuring out what she would make. Anxious to escape her sister before she asked more questions Ivy had absolutely no answers to, she slid out of the bleachers and ran right into Jaxon at the bottom. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He beamed.
“Great start to the game.” She beamed back.
“Dude.” Joel slapped Jaxon on the back and jerked him away. “Come on.” He halted when he saw Ivy. His mouth dropped open. “Ivy.” He spoke her name with reverence.
“Hi, Joel.” She threw him a puzzled glance and turned to Jaxon. “Come by the shop tomorrow and try my new menu additions. I’m adding lunch items. They’ll be amazing.”
Jaxon hesitated. “I’d love to.” Joel tugged on his sleeve. At his urgency, Jaxon shrugged and gave her a smile. “I’ll be there.”
Joel was nodding. “Me too.” They stepped away, and he kept glancing back. She overheard him say to Jaxon, “Did she say lunch items? I’ll definitely check that out.”
Ivy gave a little bounce. Her plan was working—already. She knew her luck would change. She just needed to put herself out there. The world rewarded the doers, just like her aunt always told her.
Their conversation floated back at her as she started to turn way.
“Those cookies were the bomb.”
“How many did you eat?”
That last was Jaxon’s deep voice, the one that rumbled inside her.
“Not enough. I could’ve eaten a lot more.”
That was Joel’s tenor. Ivy had a moment of panic. Joel ate a cookie, a magic cookie? Wait, he’d said cook ies . Just how many of Jaxon’s cookies did Joel eat?
She was about to swing back to find out when Holly grabbed her arm. “Let’s go. It’s starting to sprinkle.” Ivy hesitated. “Unless you want to walk. Remember, you’re riding with me.”
With one long glance back at Joel and Jaxon, now disappearing from sight into the dugout, she took a deep breath and let her sister pull her away.
*
Back at the dugout, Roman swung up onto his crutches from where he’d been sitting out the game and handed Jaxon the black and gold tin.
“Thanks.” He frowned and weighed it in his hand. It was noticeably lighter than when Joel had snatched it off him. “Wait, did Joel leave any for anyone else? Don’t tell me he ate them all.”
“Nah, we all got at least one. Great treats, by the way. You should bring them to every game.”
Jaxon worked the tin open. He couldn’t believe it. It was empty and wiped clean, not a single crumb remained. “Seriously, you doofuses ate them all? Ivy gave them to me.”
“And you gave them to us. What did you think would happen?”
“But I didn’t get any.” He heard the whine in his voice. Feeling cheated, but knowing it was his own fault, he frowned. Disgruntled, he sighed and bailed on his losing team. He wasn’t up to rehashing their latest defeat to the Roadies over beer and pretzels at Toby and Mac’s. He had played better than ever before, but they’d still lost. At least no one could blame it on his dog this time.
He headed home to his quiet apartment. Montgomery, at least, was glad to see him. Surrounded by half-packed cardboard boxes in preparation for his move, Jaxon took his laptop to the sofa. With his dog curled beside him, he went to work on the new lease agreement for the Ivy Way Tea Shop.