Chapter 13 #2
But it wasn’t the sex she’d missed—although that was amazing and she didn’t want to think about going back to battery-assisted orgasms—it was him.
He fascinated her. Behind that tough, taciturn attitude was a man who took care, did the right thing with little thought to himself.
As independent as she’d always been, Ivy had never imagined she could find that so appealing.
But he made her feel rooted and cherished and generally amazing.
And she wanted more. She wanted this to go on past the right now.
Was he ready to hear that? Could he look past the right now and into the future? She was ready to find out.
By the time she’d soaped, shaved, shampooed, and otherwise made herself presentable, Ari—and possibly a team of house elves—had worked miracles on her room.
The bed was made with fresh linens, the trays had been whisked away, and the laundry was piled in a corner.
She’d even unearthed clean clothes from Ivy’s suitcase and laid them out on the chair.
A little jar of face cream sat on the bedside table with a note propped on the side: Use me.
Ivy dabbed some on and dressed. Then, because sanity had returned, she emailed the draft to Marianne before walking out the door again. Ari was waiting in the hall.
Ivy stopped and held out her arms. “Am I presentable now?”
The girl grinned. “Much better. Go knock his socks off.”
On impulse, Ivy hugged her. “Thanks, kid. Is he downstairs?”
Ari shook her head. “Maybe he’s late?”
It was a half hour past when they’d agreed.
He’d been early last time. But she shrugged off the vague worry and headed down to the guest lounge to hang out for a bit.
When he hadn’t arrived by the end of tea time, Ivy started to get worried.
She wanted to call, but of course, with the communication issue, they hadn’t even bothered swapping numbers. Because they were idiots.
Pru, clearing up the glasses from the other guests, shot her a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t you borrow my car and go out to check on him?”
“You really don’t mind?”
“Not at all. And if you cross paths, we’ll set him straight.”
On the drive out of town, Ivy managed to convince herself that he’d found a groove with his own book and lost track of time.
She hadn’t even known for sure what day it was until Ari told her.
With every mile her anticipation grew, the book high melding with her excitement over seeing him again and a little bit of dread over that serious discussion she wanted to have.
The temptation to sing the whole way was strong, but she needed to figure out what to say.
She allowed herself one motivating anthem of Madonna’s “Crazy For You” before focusing on the issue at hand.
“Harrison, the last two weeks have been amazing. You’re pretty damned amazing, and I want to see you again.
No strings. I know neither of us came here looking for this.
I just…don’t want you to slip out of my life because we didn’t swap contact information.
” Her fingers drummed the steering wheel.
“That’s not threatening, is it? He gets to set the pace.
I just want his freaking phone number and email address. ”
He wouldn’t say no. Harrison Wilkes had made it clear he was into her.
Ivy was singing again by the time she made it to the cabin. “Don’t Stop Believin’” again. And that was a nice bit of circularity since it had sort of brought her to him in the first place.
But as she pulled into the drive, it wasn’t Harrison’s Jeep parked out front. An older model Explorer had the back hatch open. A woman came out of the cabin, juggling a caddy full of cleaners and nudging a vacuum cleaner.
“Can I help you?”
Ivy shoved away the confusion and went for a smile. “I’m sorry. I was looking for Harrison Wilkes. He’s staying here. We were supposed to meet in town for dinner tonight, but I think we maybe got our wires crossed. Do you know what time he left?”
The woman hefted the vacuum down the steps. “No guests here now. The last one checked out.”
“Checked out?”
She nodded.
This made no sense. They had plans.
“Was there a note of any kind?”
“Not that I saw, but if you want to step in and look around while I finish loading up, you’re more than welcome to.”
Ivy climbed the steps, a leaden cloak of dread replacing her elation. The interior was pristine. No crackling blaze in the fireplace. No books scattered on the coffeetable. There was nothing set out on the counters. It was an empty cabin, waiting for its next guest.
Maybe he’d gotten tired of being so cut off and wanted to come into town to stay? Ivy headed back outside. “Do you happen to know when the last guest checked out?”
“Couple days ago. I got the order to come out and clean yesterday, but I couldn’t make it until today on account of my son had a doctor’s appointment.”
Two days ago. He’d checked out two days ago. He’d left no note, no forwarding address, hadn’t been by the inn to see her. He was just gone, without a trace.
Harrison Wilkes, the man she’d fancied herself in love with, whom she’d wanted to talk to about pursuing a real relationship, had ghosted her.
Shit. Shit Shit. I forgot to talk to Ivy. Why the fuck didn’t I get her number so I could call or at least send a freaking text?
Not that he could send a text since his phone had been sent sailing into the lake when Ty took exception to their intervention.
He hadn’t dared leave his friend alone to get it replaced.
It had been a harrowing few days, with little sleep and a lot of worry.
He’d just lost track of time. He’d meant to call the inn on his way out of town to leave a message for Ivy, but the cell service was shit, and once he’d gotten to Georgia, things had gone so sideways with Ty, he couldn’t think of anything else.
But he’d never imagined he’d forget to call until hours after he was meant to pick her up.
Swiping Ty’s phone off the nightstand, he found Porter in the contacts. He answered on one ring.
“Ty?”
Glancing at the bed, Harrison stepped out into the hall. “It’s me.”
“Why are you on Ty’s phone?”
“There was an incident with mine. It’s out of commission. Listen, I fucked up and forgot to let Ivy know I wasn’t going to be back, and I missed picking her up this afternoon. I need you to get a message to her that I had an emergency, and I’ll get in touch with her as soon as I can.”
“Sure thing. How soon do you suppose that’ll be?”
“Not sure. Ty’s been down since yesterday. We’ll see if he decides to rejoin the land of the living when he wakes up and go from there.”
“Keep me posted.”
The lump on the bed made a noise like a wounded buffalo.
“Sounds like he’s waking up. Thanks, brother.” Harrison hung up and went back into the bedroom. “You alive?”
Ty rolled onto his back and draped an arm over his eyes. “Debatable.”
“You wanna be?”
He went still, the unsteady rise and fall of his chest the only thing indicating he was still awake. “Pretty sure Garrett would come back and haunt my ass if I said anything but yes.”
After the last few days, that was progress.
“There’s Gatorade and aspirin on the side table there.”
Sucking in a breath, Ty shoved himself upright and winced. “Do I have anything to apologize for?”
“You mean before or after you got blackout drunk and tried to take a header into the lake?”
“Shit. How far did I get?”
“Not far.” They’d made sure of that. Harrison wondered if he’d remember any of the last three days.
Ty tossed back a few pills with his Gatorade and wiggled his jaw. “Did I get into a fight?”
“Not exactly. I had to cold cock you to get your service weapon away from you.”
He slowly lowered the bottle. “Did I try to use it?”
“Not on us.” Harrison wouldn’t soon forget the image of his friend with a gun barrel pressed to his temple.
Ty closed his bloodshot eyes. His voice, when he spoke again, was choked. “It should’ve been me.”
“What should’ve?”
“I was the one who was supposed to be sitting shotgun that day. It should’ve been my leg blasted off. Me who died in that chopper. It was my fault.”
Because he knew too well the guilt, Harrison kept his tone brusque. “Bullshit.”
“But—”
“Did you plant that land mine? Did you tip off insurgents about the route? Did you pull that trigger against your own men?”
“Of course not.”
“You did your fucking job. You defended your position and did everything you could.”
“I couldn’t save him.” Ty dropped his head, his shoulders shaking.
Harrison reached out and grasped his hand, relieved when Ty held on instead of pulling away. “Sometimes you can’t. It’s part of war.”
“I can’t go back. I can’t do another tour with that in my head, on my heart. I can’t have anybody else’s life in my hands like that.”
“No shame in that. I couldn’t go back either.” Harrison sucked in a breath, bracing himself. This was what he’d come for, why Porter had dragged him here. Because he’d walked through this fire and come out the other side.
“I lost three of my men.” Harrison swallowed past the razorblades in his throat, wishing he didn’t have to voice this again.
“It was dead of winter in Afghanistan. Bitter cold. We came up on this woman, bleeding. She was hysterical, didn’t speak a word of English, and all we could really get out of her is ‘child,’ and she kept pointing over the side.
There was a car that had slid off the road.
It was barely hanging on the side of that mountain.
Driver’s side door was open, and we could just see a carseat in the back. So we mobilized for a rescue.”
Even now, after going over the setup a thousand times in his head, Harrison couldn’t see the tell, couldn’t find the clue that would’ve had him making any other decision.