12. COLE
twelve
cole
I hoist the last of Josh’s things into the trunk of his Prius, and once he shuts it tight, he turns with arms crossed over his chest. “So, you and the new girl, huh?”
“She can’t be the new girl if she’s going home in a couple of days.”
He rolls his eyes. “For someone who’s no longer a lawyer, you sure sound like one.”
Another sarcastic retort slides to the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back. After all, he’s not the one I’m pissed at.
I’m irritated with my circumstances with Ivy. I hate being trapped by the parameters of reality, but what can I do?
I pace next to Josh, my mind racing. I’m completely wrapped around her finger, and I no longer know what’s up or down.
The last two weeks with Ivy have been the best ones of this summer—hell, my life—and I don’t want them to end.
“You going to tell her how you feel?” Josh asks, and I freeze. “Come on, big brother. It’s obvious that you really like her.”
This time, I don’t argue, but I don’t directly admit he’s right, either. It wouldn’t do me any good. “She and I agreed to be temporary. She has a life in Atlanta with her family and her job. I have the same here. There’s no changing our situation, so there’s no point in making it complicated.”
“It’s already complicated on account of your feelings.”
“My feelings will go away.”
“Will they?”
I glare.
I wish I could say the instant deflection bubbling up my throat is because he’s wrong. But the reason my nerves get the best of me is because he’s right .
My feelings for a girl who doesn’t live here are too strong to get rid of.
“You should at least tell her how you feel,” Josh insists, gripping my shoulder. “I bet she feels the same, and you deserve to be happy, Cole. You deserve to start a family and to share your life with someone who completes you.”
“Now you sound like Mom,” I mutter as my heart thunders inside my head, each hopeful beat dancing to the possibilities of a future with Ivy. They’re not real, though, are they? They can’t be.
Josh might mean well—he might even believe what he’s saying—but he’s na?ve. I would be too if I bought any of what he’s selling.
“As long as I don’t sound like Dad, I’m golden.” Josh shoots me a tight-lipped smile.
“He’s finally let up on the Buchanan House, at least. Did you say anything to him?”
“God, no.” He paces in front of me now. “After days of him trying to catch Addie and Mrs. Burke breaking the law by altering the house’s fundamental properties, he moved on.”
“Thank fuck.”
“I think he’s found a different stretch of land for his precious mini mall. If what I heard from Addie is correct, he’s up the Chamber’s ass about convincing old man Pemberton to sell his land.”
“That’s not too far-fetched, considering he’s getting up there in age, and his son is too lazy to take over the farm.”
“Not our problem, big brother. Let’s just enjoy the free time we have now that Dad’s distracted.” He gives my shoulder a final squeeze, then releases his hold on me. “Right now, you need to tell a certain city girl how you really feel about her. Otherwise, you’re going to go back to practically living inside the Tap.”
“I have a life,” I toss back, but it’s weak.
“You’re there more than Kenny himself. Since Ivy arrived, you actually do have a life outside the bar, and it’s nice.”
I open my mouth for a rebuttal. I know my social life was pathetic before Ivy, but I can’t allow my little brother to give me shit over it. But before I have the chance to speak my piece, the front door swings open behind me.
Mom trudges down the steps, a lavender bakery box in hand. “Don’t forget your muffins for the road, Joshy,” she calls out.
We meet her halfway, and Josh kisses her cheek. “It wouldn’t be a road trip without muffins.” He takes the box from Mom’s hands, lifts the lid, and takes a deep, appreciative whiff. “That’s the stuff.”
“Hurry back, you hear?” Mom tugs him down by his ear to accommodate their height difference, and she plops a big kiss on his cheek.
I stand back, stifling my snicker behind my hand as Josh grumbles his goodbyes.
Our mother might treat us like she did when we were younger, but she is as wholesome and kind as they come. Her generosity stretches far and wide—she’s the exact opposite of our father. How the two manage to survive together is the stuff of voodoo magic and miracles.
An hour after Josh’s departure, I pace my living room, his words still echoing in my head.
He’s right—I’d regret it if I let Ivy drive out of town without telling her the truth. I shimmy my phone out of my back pocket and pull up our message thread.
I have a shift tonight, but can we do a late dinner? I’ll bring a bottle of wine.
IVY
Since you said the magic words, sure. :)
I breathe a sigh of relief, even though that was hardly the difficult part.
My shift will be the perfect distraction. I’m so glad for such a distraction that I arrive half an hour early and shock Scarlett. She’s so taken aback by my unexpected arrival that she even sets her phone down—mid-text. Isn’t that basically blasphemy for her and her friends?
As I brush past her, I snoop over her shoulder at her open messages. “Feel free to finish sending your text to whatever boy you’re stringing along this week. Don’t let me stop you.”
“It’s not a boy.” Her mouth hangs open as I round the bar. “And you are stopping me. I figured you’d be late again. Your girlfriend leaves in two days, and I assumed you’d be spending every second with her until then.”
“We’re having dinner tonight,” I say as casually as possible and slip right into the routine around here. It’s second nature to me now.
“What’s wrong?” Scarlett asks as I fill the ice bin.
“Nothing.” My fucking voice cracks.
“You’re on edge. Why? Are you breaking up with Ivy?” Her gasp is muffled by Matilda’s outburst.
“What?” The second nosiest waitress in town skids to a stop, apron slipping from around her waist. Why is she early? By the way she and Scarlett ping-pong back and forth about me as if I’m invisible, I’d say Matilda came early just for “the scoop.”
“You can’t break up with her, Rivers,” Scarlett finally loops me in.
“She’s done wonders for your brand,” Matilda says, and Scarlett nods in agreement. “Before her, you were this like, happy-go-lucky bartender on the outside, but everyone knew you were really sad on the inside.”
“It’s the saddest kind of sad,” Scarlett adds.
“But with Ivy, you’re totally convincingly happy.”
I hold my hands up to stop them from their weirdly deep analysis of me and “my brand,” whatever the hell that means. “I’m not breaking up with her. On the contrary, I’m…”
Matilda’s hands fly up to her mouth. “Are you proposing?”
“Oh, God. Don’t do that. She’s going to be the one to break up with you for moving too fast.” Scarlett winces like the first time she tried grits, which she deemed “unfit for self-respecting humans.”
“I’m not proposing,” I confirm, much to their approval. “I’m not insane.”
“Then what’s going on, Rivers?” Matilda asks, exasperation in her tone like I’m the one who’s been holding up the conversation.
“I want to tell her I want to see her again after she leaves. Maybe that is insane, after all.” I curse under my breath. I’ve never been this uncertain in my life.
I’ve always been the decisive type. Even when I left the firm last year, I immediately planned to return to Sapphire Creek, buy a house, get a job, and find myself—in that order. And I have felt more like the me I was before law school.
Something’s been missing, though, and I believe I’ve found it with Ivy.
Scarlett and Matilda squeal, clearly thrilled with my idea.
I can’t believe I’m admitting this, even to myself, but I’m relieved to have their approval.
“You need to take Ivy some of the pineapple upside-down cake,” Scarlett advises.
But Matilda shakes her head. “The lava cake is a much sexier choice. Women love chocolate.”
Kenny appears to our right, and our three heads swivel in his direction. “What’s with the celebrations? Is there a birthday around here?”
“We were just getting back to work.” I shoot the girls warning stares, and they straighten their postures in sync, clearly putting their server hats on and scrambling around the restaurant.
Business proceeds as usual for a busy Saturday night, and I only check the time every fifteen minutes or so, anxiously counting down to seeing Ivy again.