Chapter 15 #2
“What is your real world?” It was a question that had haunted her these past weeks. One of many she’d kicked herself for not asking.
“That’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Now? He chose now to want to talk? Ivy gestured to the line behind him that snaked all through the store. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“That’s fine. I’ll wait.”
Opening his book to the dedication page, she muttered “Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” and scrawled an inscription. Forcing a smile, she handed the book over. “Thanks for reading.”
They stayed linked by the book for long seconds before Peter cleared his throat again and hurried Harrison along. Ivy watched as he wove through the crowd and sat in one of the cushy chairs scattered throughout the store. They’d see what kind of patience he had.
The line seemed to multiply every time Ivy looked up.
But she did her job, smiled her smile, made conversation, signed books until her hand cramped, even as she made herself a promise to never do this again.
By the time it was over, hours later, she expected Harrison to be long gone.
But he was still perched in his chair, reading.
It was foolish to feel hope at that. He was probably just here to say hi.
He didn’t just wait two more hours to say hi.
So maybe he was here to clear the air. Or something. Just because he’d waited didn’t mean he wanted anything more.
She thanked Peter profusely for all the hard work he and his staff had put into making the signing a raging success. And then she was finally free.
Bracing herself, she crossed over to the man she couldn’t forget.
You owe me ten questions, but I only have one. Why?
If he’d needed any further evidence that he’d hurt her, this was it.
Waiting for today had been hell. Being away from her had been hard enough without knowing she thought he was an asshole.
Having to sit, day after day, while she concocted who knew what false explanations for his absence, always casting him as the bad guy because he’d hurt her, was intolerable.
And he knew exactly how good she was at concocting villains.
Getting here today, seeing her again—it had taken every shred of control he had not to just grab her up in the middle of everything and start babbling, “I’m sorry. ”
Over the past two weeks, he’d considered and rejected more than a dozen grand gestures, wanting to make it clear to her in no uncertain terms how he felt.
Those always went over well in the movies.
But given how much she already hated public speaking and the fact that she’d looked about ready to jump out of her skin at all the people packed into the bookstore, drawing even more attention to her seemed like a bad idea.
It was one thing to know that Ivy was a big freaking deal.
It was a whole other to actually see it.
The sheer number of people who’d turned out for the signing was overwhelming and had him wishing for their cabin in the woods, and the focus wasn’t even on him.
So he’d waited, trying to read the book he’d had her sign and being entirely unable to focus.
To my grumpy lumberjack, thanks for both rescues.
He chewed on that. No matter what she thought, no matter how pissed and hurt she was, surely she wouldn’t have dedicated the book to him if she didn’t feel something for him.
“Sorry that took so long.”
At the sound of her cool voice, Harrison’s heart kicked into high gear. He rose to his feet, taking in her stiff posture and the wary look in those pretty, silver-green eyes. Everything he’d planned to say spilled out of his head. “Christ, it’s good to see you.”
Ivy’s brows furrowed at that. “Forgive me for not really believing that, Harrison.”
The sound of his name on her lips, even in that irritated tone, thrummed something deep in his chest. That helped him get started.
“I deserve that. But it’s not what you think.”
She crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. “Really? You didn’t just totally ghost on me?”
“No. At least not on purpose. It was a life-or-death situation.”
“A life-or-death situation. Because we have a lot of those as writers. Or are you even really a writer? Because I couldn’t find your stuff.”
Jesus, had he told her so little? “Nothing I ever said to you was a lie. I use a pen name, same as you. John Patrick Russell.”
A reluctant curiosity stole over her face. “Why?”
He sucked in a slow breath to brace himself. This hadn’t been on his list of things to talk about today. “John Laraway, Patrick Conroy, Russell Jennings. They’re the men I lost. It was…a small way to honor them.”
Ivy’s expression softened. “I’m sorry.”
Harrison just shook his head. “No, stop. I’m here to apologize to you. Not for leaving, because I had to go, but for the fact that I didn’t manage to get a message to you first, to let you know what was going on.”
“And that was?”
“One of my best friends tried to commit suicide.”
All the color drained out of her face and so did whatever fight she had. “Oh God. Is he…”
“He’s okay. Now. Or, at least, he’s working to be. There were several of us on rotation for a suicide watch. I have the most flexibility of schedule, so I took the lion’s share. And I just…lost track of days. By the time I realized I’d missed picking you up, you’d already left for home.”
She closed her eyes, shook her head. “God. I’m so sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault. What are you apologizing for?”
“For all the awful things I thought. I thought you’d ghosted me. I thought the whole damned week had been a lie and that everything between us was—” She cut herself off, as if she’d said too much.
But it was enough. It was maybe everything.
He stepped into her as he’d wanted, curving his hands around her shoulders and drawing her in so she looked up at him with glimmering eyes.
“Nothing about that week was a lie. It was maybe the most real and honest I’ve been with myself and anybody else in years.
So I hope you believe the unvarnished truth when I tell you that I’m completely and utterly crazy about you.
Not because you’re a distraction or were convenient or any other craziness you might have convinced yourself of the last few weeks.
Because you see me. You see straight into the scarred, battered heart of me.
And maybe it’s not the greatest package in the world, but it’s yours—I’m yours—if you want me. ”
His heart beat thick in his throat as he waited for a response.
He couldn’t read anything on her face beyond total stupefaction.
Beneath his hands, she trembled, and he wanted to draw her in, wrap his arms around her until she softened against him.
But he needed something, some sign that they were on the same page with this.
“Harrison.” Her voice was choked and a tear leaked out to trail down one cheek.
Shit, he’d made her cry. Were those good tears? Tears of regret because she’d realized she didn’t want this with him?
“There is nothing in this world I want more.”
He barely had time to register the relief and joy before she was dragging him down by his lapels and he was pulling her to her toes, and he didn’t know who had started it but his mouth was on hers and—oh God—he’d missed this, missed her.
As the chaos of his emotions swirled around him, he tightened his hold because she was his anchor.
She opened for him and the taste of her flooded his senses, washing over every raw nerve and soothing.
She was every bit as sweet as he remembered, and he needed so much more than just this taste in the middle of a busy bookstore.
Apparently coming to the same conclusion, she broke the kiss, easing back far enough to look into his face. “Give me your phone.”
It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “What?”
She dropped back to her feet. “Your phone. Give it to me.”
As his brain slowly came back online, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. Her fingers lingered over his as she took it, even though he still had one hand around her waist, holding her firmly against him.
Her fingers flew furiously. “We aren’t doing this again. This is every stinking number I have and my email address, and I just texted myself so I have your number.” She gave it back. “I’m not taking any chances on losing you again.”
This was the Ivy he knew, the one he’d fallen for, who could find the humor to ease over the rough patches. “What about your address?”
“That, too. Although I’m not trusting GPS navigation. I’m taking you there myself. Now, if you don’t have anywhere else to be.”
Lips curving into a grin, Harrison cupped her face. “There is nowhere I’d rather be than home with you. There’s so much I want to tell you.”
On a sigh, Ivy pressed her cheek into his hand, the last of the tension draining out of her. “Home.”
As he looked into her smiling eyes, he was pretty sure he’d found his.