20. Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Ivy
Six years ago
Two hours. He’s two hours late.
“Maybe he had car trouble?” My mom offers as she gives me a pitiful glance.
I pace back across the wooden planks, the heels of my boots thudding beneath the prom dress I spent two months searching for.
“He’s not coming.” The words are bitter on my tongue but true.
I should have expected it by now. I’ve given Brady the benefit of the doubt for too long. Forgiven him too many times.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Mom sighs, walking to me with open arms. “You can still go to prom. It’s senior year. You can’t miss it.”
Her warm embrace wraps around me, and I feel less like strangling a tall cowboy who’s proved he has zero respect for me. I know I should have ended it months ago, truthfully even years. Again, my own fault. But as I stand here all dressed up, waiting on my date that chose not to show, I have nothing left to give.
“It’s fine.” I wave a hand.
I refuse to walk into that gymnasium alone and confirm what everyone else already knows. What the whole town will be talking about.
“I wasn’t all that excited to go anyway,” I lie.
I can tell by her pursed lips she doesn’t believe me, but instead of pushing, she kisses my temple.
“Please don’t tell dad.” I groan. “He’ll probably show up at Millie’s with a shotgun.”
She laughs. “I won’t tell. He and your brothers wont' be back until tomorrow, so you can avoid an interrogation.”
“Thanks.”
Her fingers tuck a blonde curl behind my ear. “You want any company?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Not really.”
With a gentle touch to my cheek, she leaves me alone and without even removing my dress, I slip out to the barn. The smell of fresh hay and horses puts my nerves at ease as I walk up to Sugarfoot’s stall. “Hey there girl.”
Dipping my hand into the cubby next to me, I pull out a few treats.
“He didn’t show up.” I hold out my hand as she nibbles her lips along my fingers. “Truth is I’m not upset that he stood me up. I’m upset that I’m missing time with my friends.”
She takes the treat, and I smooth my hand up her nose. “What does that mean?”
You know what it means, Ivy. Admit it’s over.
With a sigh, I rest my chin on the gate, my gaze fixed on the night sky beyond her pen.
“Shouldn’t you be at prom?”
My head turns toward the deep voice that flows from behind me. Maddox stands in the doorway, a fresh pearl snap covering his chest, along with a pair of clean wranglers.
“I would be if your brother bothered to show up.” I push away from the gate.
I watch the way his eyes move over me, before they meet mine again.
He clears his throat. “You…you look gorgeous.”
“Thanks.” I can feel the blush in my cheeks along with the skipping beats of my heart.
“He didn’t show?” He asks, his feet gravitating toward me.
“What’s new, right?” I quip.
He shakes his head, before he slips off his hat and runs his fingers through his dark hair. I’ve noticed he does this when he’s frustrated.
“It’s bullshit, Ivy,” he scoffs.
“I know,” I answer.
He stops in front of me, his hand lifting to my hair, but he pulls it back at the last second, his brows furrowing. He doesn’t speak for a moment before asking.
“You want to go somewhere?”
Yes. Anywhere with you.
The single thought flashes across my brain, and my heart stutters.
“The ridge?” I offer.
With a sharp nod he turns on his heel, and even though a slither of guilt works its way into my chest, I ignore it and follow.
“Can you believe this view?” I ask, gazing up at the stars.
The ridge at the back of the ranch is one of my favorite places. Besides the flower field, or the barn, it’s where I come to think. To just absorb the silence when I feel like I can’t hear my own thoughts.
“It’s fucking beautiful,” he says next to me.
I smile, but when I glance at him, he’s not looking up at the stars, he’s looking at me.
My skin tingles under his gaze, my hands clenching the fabric of my dress. This feels dangerous. It feels wrong. It feels wrong to admit I feel more at ease with him than I do with anyone else.
To break whatever moment is quickly forming, I blurt. “All I really wanted to do tonight was dance.”
He searches my face, before he hops off of the tailgate of his truck. Fishing his phone from his pocket, he thumbs the screen before placing it down on the side.
He offers me an open palm. “Then let’s dance.”
“Maddox.” I laugh, trying to ease the racing of my heart. “You don’t have to.”
“I said let’s dance, Goldie.”
Goldie. That’s the first time he’s ever called me that.
Without another intrusive thought, I slip my hand in his as he guides me down to the ground. My boots hit the dirt; the hem of my dress doing the same. He tugs me to his chest, his hand settling on the small of my back. The music begins to flow from the small speaker on his phone, filling the empty space with a beautiful melody. George Strait’s The Man in Love with You plays softly as we move together beneath the sky. And for the very first time, I allow myself only a fraction of a second to wonder what it would be like to be loved by Maddox Sheppard.