Chapter 9
IVY
Law and Carlie sit on the couch next to the chair I’m lounging in, both of them laser focused on me despite the positively divine plate of cookies sitting on the small coffee table in front of them.
My first sampling was a quarter of a chocolate cookie with mint frosting that’s just the right amount of minty and not too overpowering.
There are still six large cookies of various flavors left, but I told Carlie to try these chocolate ones because they’re the best.
And also because I hoped that Carlie would stop side-eyeing me with curiosity.
Now that Chad is putting the girls to bed in his bedroom, they have their opening to start peppering me with questions.
Well, Carlie has. Law’s just sitting there looking smug, like he’s somehow responsible for the fact that there might be some sparks between me and Chad.
Little do they know that all the sparks are on my side.
“So, you’ve had an eventful two days …” Carlie says, then takes a bite of her cookie and stares at me like, I’m chewing. You talk now. Is she not even going to comment on how amazing these cookies are? I’d much rather talk about that.
“Well, yes.” I point to my wrapped ankle, propped on the ottoman in front of me. “I broke my ankle.”
A corner of her mouth turns up, and she swallows. “And Chad insisted on taking care of you,” she says in a low voice. She shares a meaningful look with Law.
I put up a hand. “Because I helped him with the girls when he had a migraine.” My tone is very much of course he’s helping me.
Carlie arches an eyebrow. “Why are you blushing?”
I wave my hand around. “Because you’re insinuating things.”
She shares another look with Law. The ping of jealousy I feel seeing how close they are is different now than when I first got here. It’s not because she’s Law’s best friend now, replacing me. It’s that after hanging out so much with Chad, I realize what I’ve missed the last six months.
A best friend, not just a date or a boyfriend.
Even in the short time I dated Caleb, we bonded.
We told each other everything. We loved each other’s company.
And for the two years I was with Malcolm, we loved spending time with each other doing our favorite activities—hiking, morning runs, board games, and cozy dinners together trying new foods.
Carlie lowers her voice even more. “Do you like him, Ivy?”
I deserve this. When Carlie and I first met, I grilled her like we were already besties. I knew Law liked her, and I’ve always been one to ask the deep questions first rather than small talk.
“Of course I like him. We’re friends.” I fake an unbothered tone.
Carlie huffs and Law snickers. “Romantically,” Law says knowingly, and Carlie nods in serious agreement, then glances over her shoulder, making sure that Chad is still safely inside his bedroom with the girls and can’t hear our conversation.
Oh boy. These two.
The heat flaming in my face is answer enough. “It’s because I haven’t been dating. Hormones. All that.” I act casual, but it’s useless. Carlie’s grin widens with every word.
She looks over her shoulder again. Law puts his arm around her. “I’ll keep watch,” he says.
She nods. “This isn’t like you, Ivy. You’re usually willing to spill everything. To process. What’s wrong with having feelings for Chad or pursuing something?” She leans forward.
“I’m not dating yet. Remember? I’m focusing on making sure I’m ready for a relationship before I get back into one.”
“Okay.” She tilts her head. “And what are you still working on to get ready? What’s stopping you from being ready now?”
Law snorts, and both of us whirl to look at him. “She’s pulling an Ivy on you,” he says to me, laughing quietly.
I look at Carlie, squinting at her. I open my mouth and …
can’t think of any of the reasons I chose not to date when I moved back to Nashville.
“Still ironing out bad habits,” I say, trying to sound more like my life coach self.
“Making sure I’m not people-pleasing too much and ignoring red flags in potential relationships because I want to be with someone. ”
Carlie still studies me. She draws in a breath, and it’s easy to guess that I’m about to get more of my own medicine.
“What red flags does Chad have?” she asks, her tone sounding serious, conscientious.
Exactly the tone I’d be using if I were having this discussion with her and I wanted her to admit she was falling for someone.
“He’s ten years older than me, is a single dad, and his ex is … complicated,” I say.
Carlie’s eyebrows jump. “How is being a single dad a red flag?” Her tone is accusing now, defensive of Chad, her faux life coach persona gone.
“It’s not a red flag, I guess.” I reevaluate what I want to say about this. “But it’s an important element to consider before jumping into something.”
“And so is the fact that he’s thirty-eight?” she says dryly. “Tell me about how that’s an issue.”
“We’re at different points of our lives.
He’s a dad, and I’m just starting my career.
That can lead to conflict.” Now my tone is defensive.
I’ve been trying to keep my head on straight the last day, ignoring how good-looking Chad is, how sweet he is with his girls, and the efforts he’s making to counteract the trauma his ex caused his family.
It feels like Carlie’s jumping in and telling me to go crazy and ignore everything my own training has told me.
“Any difference in lifestyle can lead to conflict, Ivy. You know that. You could run into that with anyone.” Carlie nods toward Law.
Their different life experiences did cause some problems when they first began dating, but they overcame it.
“Are you not comfortable with the girls?” She scrunches her eyebrows together in confusion.
I shake my head quickly. “The girls are awesome. And I’m absolutely comfortable with them. That doesn’t mean Chad’s ready for me to be their mom.”
She sets her cookie aside and reaches for me. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and the defensive way you’re deflecting tells me you’re scared.”
I clench my jaw. “Have you been taking psychology courses or something?” I accuse her.
“I’ve been in therapy for a while, Ivy. I was bound to pick up some things.
And then there’s chatting with you that adds to all my knowledge.
” She squeezes my hand. “Don’t push away real connection because of fear.
Acknowledging, or even exploring, your attraction to Chad doesn’t mean an immediate relationship or marriage or whatever. Stay open to the experience.”
“I don’t know how you guys stand me at all,” I mutter, and Law and Carlie both laugh.
“Have you tried the lemon cheesecake cookies?” Law asks, changing the subject suddenly.
Carlie casually leans toward Law for a bite of his newest cookie—a quarter of the aforementioned lemon cheesecake—but I can’t help that my head whips in the direction of Chad’s room, where he’s strolling out toward us now. I have no chill at all.
Embarrassment rushes through me, even though he doesn’t give any indication that he heard our conversation, and we were speaking in quiet voices the whole time.
It’s just that Carlie kept talking about me being open to the experience, but I don’t think Chad and I are on the same page, even if he did insist on me staying in his suite so he could help.
He feels guilty! I took care of his girls and then got injured on an outing with them, even though that injury is totally my fault.
I was the one staring gaga at Chad and not paying attention.
“Are there more traditions we need to check off?” I ask in a rush of words, trying to look innocent.
Chad’s face does turn confused, but with a slight smile, maybe at how awkward I’m being. “Yes,” he says, drawing out the word. His gaze bounces from me to Law to Carlie and back to Law.
Law blinks at him, his expression saying, What?
“Everything good out here?” Chad asks.
Law gives a sigh, and my heart speeds up. It’s totally a we’ve been caught, better ’fess up sigh. I know him. He was my best friend for almost ten years. What is he about to confess to?
“Ivy was telling us how embarrassed she is that you bought these expensive cookies, and she was trying to get us to help her sneakily pay you back,” Law says.
“Law!” Carlie smacks his arm like she’s scandalized by his behavior. “Ivy told you that in confidence.”
He grins. “I’m not a life coach. There’s no expectation of confidentiality.”
I finally start laughing. “You’re the worst,” I say.
He smirks at me. Or am I the best? his expression says.
Chad has turned away from me, heading for the closet by the door of the suite. “Touché,” I mouth to Law.
“You don’t need to pay me back,” Chad says, walking over to the closet. “I’m not trying to bribe you or anything.” He shares a look with me that I know is friendly over our joke earlier, but given the conversation I just had … my cheeks flame even hotter.
I force a breathy laugh. “Okay, okay.”
Chad tilts his head at me in confusion over my reaction, and I want to slide down and into the floor and let it swallow me. I can feel the silent laughter coming from Law and Carlie, even though I refuse to look at them.
“To answer your earlier question, Ivy …” Chad shakes his head a little and opens the closet, pulling out a suitcase and rolling it toward us.
“There is another tradition to take care of tonight. Helping out Santa.” He plops the suitcase on the ground and kneels next to it to unzip it.
He starts pulling things out. “Ivy, you can be in charge of stuffing stockings.” He hands me a pile of stockings, which look handmade.
I hold one up, staring at Zoey’s name stitched across the top.
“Shelby got them off Etsy,” Chad says dryly.
“Something about cottage chic Christmas décor.” He shrugs and hands me more packages.
It’s small toys, books, and candy to distribute between the three stockings, and then he tosses a Yeti coffee mug and some kind of tool on my lap too.
“Did you buy your own stocking stuffers?” I ask, frowning at the idea that he had to do that.
He grins. “Who else was going to?” Then he breaks into another laugh. “Don’t look at me like that, Ivy. Shelby never bought this stuff either. It’s fine. I always get exactly what I want from Santa.”
I nod, trying not to stare and feel sorry for him.
I don’t know Shelby. I don’t want to judge her, but she has done Chad wrong in so many ways, and this is the least of it.
Her faults are much worse than not buying him little surprises for his stocking, but I can’t stop thinking about how much that sucks even if it’s small.
Chad has already moved on. He’s taking out some wrapped presents, handing them to Carlie to put underneath the mini tree set up in the corner of the room.
The desire to take care of him, even this small thing, hits me hard.
I pull out my phone while he’s distracted with Law, handing him a small set of Barbie furniture to put together.
I open a grocery delivery app and quickly search for dark chocolate mint M&Ms. When Chad glances over at me, I set my phone down, like I was looking at a text or something, and separate a few more things between the girls’ stockings.
It takes several minutes and some more fake texting, but I order the M&Ms and leave emphatic instructions not to knock and to leave it in front of my hotel room door. I smile to myself, little sparks of warmth spreading through me.
I’m doing terrible at managing this crush, but it’s Christmas. I’ll enjoy the moment—be open to the experience—and then go home and forget about all of this.
Probably.