Page 29 of Tender Temptation

Twenty minutes later, I step into my loft and stop short.

Ivy’s curled up on the couch, fast asleep in a skimpy piece of lingerie consisting of nothing but hot-pink straps and silk.She snores softly, her hand rests across her soft belly. One perfect breast has escaped. Her blonde hair is spread out on the cushion, making her look almost ethereal in the dim light.

Seeing her like this—peaceful and vulnerable—something shifts inside me. This isn’t lust or a summer fling, it’s so much more. I feel it in my gut.

She’s the one.

Ivy Davies has my heart, full fucking stop.

I absolutely want to be the one who’s there for her, always.

Quietly, I drop my keys and jacket. Moving closer, I gently lift her. She doesn’t wake up, but instinctively nuzzles against my chest as I carry her to the bedroom. Laying her down, I slip off my clothes, slide in beside her and pull her close. The feel of her, so right in my arms, cements what I’ve been reluctant to admit.

I’m all in.

Completely, irrevocably in love with her.

I’m keeping her around for as long as she’ll have me.

thirteen

Ivy

Two Weeks Later

I wouldn’t say I’mpanicking.

No. I don’t need to say it. Ifeelit in every part of my body. Queasy stomach. Shaky hands. Exhaustion.

My parents are due back in three weeks and I still haven’t told Cillian the full truth.

Isuck. I’m disappointed in myself. With each passing day, the reality of my situation sinks in. The freedom I’ve grown used to is about to evaporate. So is my relationship with the man I’m falling inlove with.

The thought is unbearable and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Today’s been particularly rough. Hilde stopped by my room and caught me packing a bag for the week and made a point to ask if I “would be sleeping at home anytime soon.” Though I’ve been expecting some sort of blowback, her comment took me by such surprise. I wasn’t sure what to say except to reiterate I was enjoying my time with Emma.

Her disapproving look sent a chill down my spine.

Made me wonder if the jig is up.

Still flustered, now I’m in rush-hour traffic on my way to a Belltown construction site where Cillian is overseeing the latest phase of one of his high-rise development projects. My stress level is through the roof, which isn’t helped by the fact no cars are moving. It would be faster to walk, at this point.

Aaaaaarrrrgh. I’m fucking frustrated. I should be excited to see Cillian, he always has something fun planned for us. Instead, the butterflies, which threaten to burst out of my head, aren’t from anticipation of spending time with my man, but from the crushing weight of my secrets and what will happen when they’re exposed.

Something tells me I’ve run out of time. If I don’t tell Cillian soon…

I can’t even think about the alternative.

In an attempt to distract myself, I rehearse our conversation in my mind. I could be straightforward. Or, try to make a joke out of it. Maybe I could give him a “what if” scenario to see what his reaction is. The reality is, there’s no way to confess and at this point, it probably doesn’t matter. Either way, he’ll be upset.

Upset.Ha!

I’m totally screwed.

Fifteen minutes later, I pull into a stall across from the construction site. It’s unseasonably hot in Seattle this summer, I’m wearing a lightweight, knee-length chambray skirt paired with a soft, sleeveless white blouse and white sneakers. My hair is tied back in a high ponytail to keep it off my neck. He said to dress casual, I hope this is okay.

Once I pay for parking, I stop and take a couple of cleansing breaths. Try to center myself. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best sort of thing. Something catches my eye at the jobsite. I glance across the street and my heart stops.

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