Chapter Eighteen #3
“I watched it,” she said, without elaborating that she’d mostly skipped to his shirtless scenes. There wasn’t much plot to stick around for.
Austin nodded, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I feel bad because I know I asked you for a second chance, but I don’t think I’m in the headspace to be dating right now. Is it okay if we’re just friends?”
Ivy deserved an award for how neutral she managed to keep her face, even though she was so relieved, she could have jumped for joy.
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Thanks. I could really use a friend. Mine are pretty useless.”
“I noticed.”
From the direction of the tents, Grace shouted, “Austin! Your break is over!”
They started to walk back toward the tent, easily falling into step.
“How’d you get roped into working at the St. Mary’s booth?”
He groaned. “It’s my penance for puking all over the bathroom. Mom said the stench was something only God could forgive and confession wasn’t going to cut it.”
“We gave you a trash bag, a trash can, and the toilet. How did you miss?”
Austin’s laugh was pained. “I don’t know!”
When they reached the tent, he surprised her with another hug.
“Thanks for everything. I’ll text you, okay?”
“Given your history, I’ll believe it when I see it.” She patted his back. “Good luck with the church ladies and your hangover.”
The best part about releasing Brad into a crowd was that he wasn’t hard to find. Even sitting down, he was tall. It also helped that he was one of the only men not wearing any Packers gear. He’d found a table in the back corner with a lovely view of the parking lot.
Brad pulled her paper plate of pie away from her as she sat down next to him.
“What did lover boy want?”
“I will trade pie for gossip,” she offered, and he slid the plate a few inches in her direction but didn’t let go.
“It’d better be good. I was interrogated for this pie.”
Ivy leaned in close. “Austin’s show was canceled.”
Not a single muscle in Brad’s face moved. “And?”
“That’s it.” She reached for the plate, and he pulled it away. “Hey!”
“That’s not gossip. That’s an inevitability. If he’d been fired for something scandalous, that would have been pie-worthy.” He shook his head mournfully. “You need something better, toots.”
“There isn’t anything better than that pie.”
Both Ivy and Brad jumped at Tony’s voice, but Ivy recovered quickly and snatched the plate while Brad was distracted.
Tony came around the table and sat next to Brad, straddling the bench.
She could just see Tony’s hand on Brad’s lower back, but Brad’s all-over blush would have given them away regardless.
“How’d you sleep?” Tony asked.
Ivy concentrated on her pie, trying to give them a modicum of privacy while they talked in giddy, hushed tones. She’d almost finished her slice when a cup of hot chocolate, steam curling around the edges of the mountain of whipped cream on top, appeared next to her plate.
Grant sat down on the opposite side of the table with a cup of black coffee. He was wearing the same coat he’d had on the night before. She could still feel the memory of time-worn fabric under her palms.
She’d almost kissed him.
He gave her a soft, almost bashful smile, and she melted.
“I figured even if you had hot chocolate already, you’d want another one,” he said, and sipped his coffee.
“You would have been correct.”
She picked up the hot paper cup and tried to take a drink without making a mess.
The cold whipped cream tapped against her nose instantly.
So much for that plan. She wiped the cream off with her finger, then licked it off so it wouldn’t go to waste.
This was the good stuff. Her tongue was still against the pad of her finger when she noticed Grant watching her with the kind of intent hunger she’d seen in her fantasy of him.
“How did you avoid getting roped into helping?” Ivy asked, trying and failing to shove all lecherous visions of Grant’s face buried in her pussy out of her mind.
“I didn’t avoid anything,” he said. “I was taking Tony to get his truck, and Mom called and said they needed forks. So here we are.”
“Where was Tony’s truck?”
Grant grinned. “By the movie theater. I guess Brad drove his rental back to Tony’s place and…” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“The only time Brad wakes up before me is when he hasn’t gone to sleep yet, so I assume they…” She wiggled her eyebrows in response. Grant laughed and the residual smile made her giddy. She wanted to make him laugh more. She wanted to be the reason his eyes lit up and crinkled at the corners.
While she was trying to think of something else funny to say, Grant’s foot brushed against hers under the table.
“So I was thinking,” he began, holding his coffee cup with both hands, “about how we said we should hang out again. I thought maybe we could go check out this year’s Christmas Walk in the Park.”
“That sounds great,” she said.
And maybe it was because her head was so full of visions of walking in a winter wonderland with Grant that it didn’t have room for anything else, but she turned to Brad and Tony and said, “You guys should come, too.”