Page 40 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

Despite his refusal to let her get close enough to unravel the root of his problems, she still wanted to help. She still tried to be there when he’d given her no reason to.

Her patience for him was an unsolvable puzzle in its own right. It would be far easier to give up. He wasn’t the most conventional person to hook up with and was even harder to care about. Yet she kept pushing aside her attraction for the former to persist in the latter. At this point, he had a lot of catching up to do to be worthy of her, but he was going to try.

Closing the laptop, he shoved grim memories of the crime to the back of his mind. Even before it all happened, he’d been good at compartmentalizing. Now, that gift had become more important than ever. The less she got involved in this whole thing, the better.

Not getting involved hadn’t stopped her from helping, though. After their text conversation, he’d been able to focus on what mattered. He didn’t need every answer, just the right one. The important one—like knowing justice had been served. He may never understand why it happened, but he’d sure as hell find out who and make sure they’d never target him again.

He shot a text back telling her to come over and went to get a plastic sheet to cover the counter and floor. The apartment’s bathroom would be much too small, and being so close to her always seemed to lead to unintended side effects, so he planned to use the kitchen. It’d be easier to clean up, and he’d be able to think more clearly. Hopefully.

A small knock came at his door, almost too quiet to hear, and he set down the folded plastic to let Ivory in.

She stood waiting in the hallway, her sweet smile paired with purple pants and a paisley top that fit her personality perfectly—topped off with a plate of what smelled like freshly baked cookies.

Shit. She was really trying to kill him.

“What do we have here, a sweet girl bringing treats over to the big, bad wolf?” he teased, lowering his voice with a wicked grin.

She laughed and played along. “You do have rather sharp teeth.”

“All the better to eat you with.”

Her expression faltered, and he didn’t miss how her eyes lingered on his mouth.

Fuck, what was he doing? She hadn’t even stepped inside, and all that had already slipped out. Just as he predicted, he’d be a terrible friend—because there was nothing friendly about his thoughts at the moment.

He cleared his throat. “Come in.”

Without waiting around to close the door after her, he walked into the kitchen and continued to spread out the plastic.

“Thank you for bringing cookies,” he said, this time avoiding any Little Red Riding Hood comparisons.

“You’re welcome,” she replied in her signature meek tone. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to pay you somehow.”

She set the plate down on the far end of the counter, away from the sink where he was setting up. “I’m not sure what kind of cookies you like, so I hope chocolate peanut butter doesn’t sound too bad?”

It sounded amazing, actually, and they smelled even better. “I’d be happy with anything you baked.”

A small smile danced across her lips as he walked over and picked up a cookie, the middle warm and fresh out of the oven.

One bite was all it took.

She’d stolen his soul, and quite frankly, he didn’t want it back.

“Have you tried these?” he asked after finishing the bite. “They’re amazing.”

She giggled. “I’m glad you think so. Caspian and Nia also said they approved, but I haven’t verified for myself.”

He motioned to the plate. “That’s cruel. Have some while I finish setting up.”

“No, these are all yours,” she protested, waving her hands, but he shoved the plate towards her and walked away.

“I don’t trust someone who won’t taste their own cooking, so eat up,” he ordered.

She picked up a cookie like a good girl.

A glance in her direction revealed the look of contentment on her face, and that in itself was a far better treat than hoarding all those delicious cookies for himself.

“See?” he said. “How selfish would I have been not to share?”

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