Chapter Three
Ivy
The Coffee Loft has reclaimed its spot as the heart of Elk Ridge. The warm scent of fresh-baked pastries mingles with coffee, and early afternoon sunlight streams through windows decorated with local artwork. The community board is covered with flyers for upcoming events, and the Wishing Wall that Kathryn hung up is filled with hopes and dreams.
When I texted Maddox about meeting for coffee, I picked this spot deliberately. After all, if we're going to convince his family we're dating at the wedding, we might as well get comfortable being seen together.
"The usual?" Annie asks as I approach the counter, her apron dusted with cinnamon.
"My latte and two scones, actually." I try to sound casual. "Maddox is joining me."
Her eyebrows shoot up. Before she can comment, the bell above the door chimes. I turn to see Maddox filling the doorway, and my breath catches. He's traded his usual uniform or workout clothes for dark jeans and a blue button-down that makes his eyes impossibly brighter. His hair's slightly damp, like he actually took time to shower after his shift.
"Well," Annie murmurs, already starting on our drink. "This is new."
I'm about to defend myself when I notice the way Maddox moves through the coffee shop, looking more uncertain than I've ever seen him. He usually barrels through life with the same confidence he shows at fire scenes, but now he's scanning the room like he's walking into unknown territory.
"You clean up nice, Archer," Annie calls out as Maddox makes his way to the counter. Every head in the Coffee Loft seems to turn, and I catch Mrs. Peterson lowering her book for a better look. “Black coffee?”
"Thanks." His ears redden slightly as he notices the attention. He hesitates at the counter, and I catch Annie trying to hide her surprise when he says, "Hazelnut macchiato, if you don’t mind."
"Getting fancy today?" Annie glances between us, a smile tugging at her lips. "Want me to bring these to your table?"
“That would be great.” I gesture to my favorite window seat, pretending my stomach doesn't flip when Maddox follows. The leather cushions are still new enough to smell fresh, part of Kathryn's mission to restore the Coffee Loft to its former glory while making it even better.
"So, what’s the plan?" he says as we slide into the booth. His knee brushes mine under the table. "This was your idea."
"Well, if we're going to convince your family at the wedding..." I let the sentence hang as Annie approaches with our drinks, my caramel latte and his hazelnut macchiato.
"Since when do you drink anything but black coffee?" I ask once Annie's out of earshot.
A faint flush creeps up his neck. "Sometimes I like something different. When I'm not grabbing and going."
"The big, tough firefighter has a sweet tooth?" I can't help teasing him. "Wait until your crew hears about this."
"They won't," he says, but there's a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Because you're not going to tell them."
"And what makes you so sure about that?"
"Because I know where all your embarrassing childhood photos are hidden at the lodge."
Our eyes meet across the table, and suddenly we're both laughing. It's his real laugh. Not the controlled chuckle he usually allows himself. The sound does something to my chest that I refuse to analyze. Thankfully, Annie arrives with our drinks.
"Speaking of secrets," he says, after she leaves. "Are we sure this is a good idea?"
"What, coffee?"
"All of it." He toys with his mug, not quite meeting my eyes. "After what Liam said..."
"Liam's not in charge of my life." The words come out sharper than intended. "Or yours."
"I know, but?—"
"But nothing." I reach for a scone, needing something to do with my hands. "This is just coffee, Mad."
He looks up then, and for a moment, I catch something in his eyes that makes my breath catch. He leans in, close enough that I can smell his soap and coffee and something uniquely him.
"Ivy—"
The bell above the door chimes, and Liam's familiar voice carries across the coffee shop. "Mad? Since when do you drink anything but—" He stops short when he sees how close we're sitting, his protective big brother expression sliding into place.
We both jump, and Maddox straightens so fast he nearly knocks over his macchiato. I catch his hand before it tips, and the brief contact sends sparks up my arm.
"Liam," I say quickly, low enough that only they can hear. "This is part of the plan, remember? We need people to believe this." I give him a look that clearly says back off.
He holds my gaze for a moment, then lets out a slow breath. "Right. Well, don't let me interrupt your coffee date." The pause is slight, but I catch the way Maddox's shoulders tense. "I'm grabbing something for Declan."
As Liam makes his way to the counter, that familiar wall slides back into place behind Maddox's eyes. "Actually, I should probably?—"
"Stay." The word slips out before I can stop it. "At least try the scones. We need to figure out our story anyway."
His mouth quirks up at one corner, but the easy warmth from earlier has faded. "Trying to fatten me up?"
"Looking out for your caffeine-to-pastry ratio." I push the plate toward him. "Can't have Elk Ridge's finest running on empty."
He takes a bite of scone, watching as I add another packet of sugar to my latte. "Still drowning perfectly good coffee in sugar, I see."
"Says the man drinking a hazelnut macchiato."
"At least I don't need an extra shot and three sugars when I'm stressed." He says it casually, then freezes when he realizes what he's revealed.
The warmth in my chest spreads. "You notice how I take my coffee?"
"I notice a lot of things." His voice is soft, dangerous. Then he clears his throat. "But you’re right. We should probably figure out our story. My mom's already asking questions."
"Right." I wrap my hands around my mug, grounding myself. "How long have we been dating?"
"Not too long," he says quickly. "Otherwise people will wonder why we kept it secret."
"Three weeks?" I suggest. "That's enough time to be bringing me to a wedding, but new enough that we might have wanted to keep it quiet at first."
He nods, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "And it explains why Liam's just finding out." His eyes flick briefly to where my brother is still waiting for his order, deliberately not looking our way.
"We could say it started at the Spring Festival." The idea comes to me suddenly. "You were working the fire department's booth, and I was helping coordinate the lodge's displays..."
"And I finally got the courage to ask you to dinner." His mouth quirks up. "Not bad. It's even partly true. I did notice you there."
Something warm flutters in my chest. "You did?"
"You were wearing that blue dress," he says softly, then seems to catch himself. "Anyway. What about dates? My mom will definitely ask."
"Well, there's the festival and dinner. Maybe a few hikes? You could have helped me scout new trails for the lodge's guided tours."
"Dinner at Antonio's," he adds. "It's quiet enough that we could have gone without running into the whole town."
I raise an eyebrow. "You've put some thought into this."
That flush creeps back up his neck. "Being thorough. What about why we kept it quiet?"
"Simple. We wanted to see if it was real before dealing with everyone's opinions." I try not to think about how true that feels. "Between your mom's matchmaking and Liam's protectiveness..."
"And now?"
"Now we're sure enough to go public." The words come out steadier than I feel. "Starting with Sarah's wedding."
He studies me for a long moment, and I fight the urge to squirm under his gaze. "Think anyone will buy it?"
"They already are." I nod subtly toward Mrs. Peterson's table, where the entire book club is failing spectacularly at pretending not to watch us. "Besides, all we have to do is act like this."
"Like what?"
"Like we're comfortable together. Like we're having coffee and talking and..." I trail off as I realize how close we've leaned toward each other over the table.
I catch Liam watching us from the counter, his expression unreadable. But for once, I don't care what my big brother thinks. Because the way Maddox is looking at me right now makes me wonder if maybe we're not pretending as much as we think.
The morning crowd has thinned by the time we step outside, but my head is still spinning. Maybe it's the extra shot in my latte, or maybe it's the way Maddox keeps stealing glances at me when he thinks I'm not looking. The same way he used to when we were teenagers and I thought every one of those looks meant something.
Turns out some crushes don't fade as much as you pretend they do.
"So," he says, falling into step beside me. "Should we talk about the wedding? Sarah sent me about fifty texts about the schedule."
"That bad?"
He pulls out his phone, his arm brushing mine as he scrolls through messages. The contact sends a wave of warmth through me that has nothing to do with the morning sun.
"Let's see. Rehearsal dinner Friday night. Then Saturday morning is some sort of breakfast thing for the wedding party."
"Which technically includes me now?" The thought hits suddenly. "As your plus-one?"
"Yeah." He rubs the back of his neck. "Sarah's kind of insisting. Said all dates are welcome, especially since you're..." He trails off.
"Since I'm what?"
"Since you're family. Sort of. I mean, with Liam and everything."
Right. Because I'm Liam's little sister. Not because I'm anything else to him.
"Then there's the ceremony at four," he continues quickly. "Reception after. Dancing, dinner, the whole thing. Sarah's going all out."
"Sounds like a lot of time to spend pretending." The words slip out before I can stop them.
He looks at me sharply. "We don't have to—I mean, if you're having second thoughts..."
"No! No.” I force a laugh. "I hope you're ready to convince your entire family we're dating. Your mom's pretty perceptive."
"Tell me about it." He sighs. "She's asking if we're sharing a room at the resort where the wedding's being held."
My step falters. "Are we?"
"I told her we're taking things slow." His ears redden. "Is that okay?"
"Perfect." My voice only squeaks a little. "Very believable."
"Well, isn't this a sight for sore eyes?" Mary from the flower shop calls out as she waters the hanging baskets outside her store. "I was wondering when you two would finally figure it out."
I feel Maddox stiffen beside me, his easy smile freezing in place. Before he can say anything that might blow our cover, I slip my hand through his arm like it belongs there. His muscle tenses under my touch, then relaxes, and suddenly I'm very aware of every point of contact between us.
"Just walking through town," I say, amazed at how steady my voice sounds when my pulse is doing gymnastics.
Mary's knowing smile only grows wider. "Sure, honey. That's why Maddox is wearing his good shirt and you're blushing like a summer rose. You know, I remember when you used to come into my shop and?—"
"We should get going," I cut her off before she can finish that particular story about teenage-me buying flowers for the Valentine's dance. "Lots of planning to do."
"Of course, of course." Mary winks at us. "Don't let me keep you two lovebirds."
We make it halfway down the block before Maddox clears his throat. "You're good at that."
"At what?"
"Making it seem real."
Something in my chest twists. "That's the point, isn't it?"
"Yes, but..." He stops walking, turning to face me. We're still close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "You really think we can pull this off? Two days of pretending to be..."
"Together?" My voice comes out softer than intended. "We've known each other forever, Mad. We just have to act natural."
"Natural." He huffs a laugh. "Right. Like I naturally know your coffee order and you naturally remember my favorite hiking trails and we naturally fit together like—" He cuts himself off, that wall sliding back into place.
"Like what?"
"Nothing." He starts walking again, but slower now. "There's a lot that could go wrong."
Like me remembering how it felt when you taught me to swim. Like the way you still smell like summer and pine trees. Like how I'm starting to think this isn't pretend at all.
"We'll be fine," I say instead. "Follow my lead and we’ll get through this."
"About that..." He stops at my car, shifting his weight. "The reception. There'll be dancing."
My heart skips. "So?"
"So, maybe we should practice that too. You know, before the wedding. To make it look..."
"Natural?"
"Yes."
He's standing close enough now that I can see the flecks of gray in his eyes, the way his throat moves when he swallows. If I took one step forward...
"Well, well." Liam's voice carries from the Coffee Loft's entrance. "Don't let me interrupt."
Maddox steps back so fast he nearly trips over the curb. "I was—we were?—"
"Planning," I say firmly, shooting Liam a warning look. "For the wedding."
"Right." Liam's expression says he's not buying it. "The fake date."
I watch Maddox's shoulders tense, and suddenly I want to shake my brother. Want to tell him that not everything needs his protective oversight.
"See you around," Maddox says stiffly. "Text me about practice?" he adds softer so only I can hear.
I nod, not trusting my voice. He reaches around me to open my car door, and I catch a whiff of his soap mixed with coffee. Our fingers brush as I take the handle from him, and I tell myself the spark I feel is just static electricity. Mountain air can do that.
"Drive safe," he murmurs.
I watch him walk to his truck in my rearview mirror, trying to slow my racing heart. This is pretend. A favor for a friend. Just two days of fake dating to get his mother off his back.
But as I pull away from the Coffee Loft, Mary's words echo in my head. When you two would finally figure it out.
The problem is, I'm starting to think I already have. This isn't a teenage crush anymore. This is something real. Something that could break more than just my heart if I'm not careful.