Page 41 of Wasted On You

“To prove a point.”

“What’s that?”

She held his gaze a few seconds longer and then climbed into his truck without answering. Mike Paul walked around his rig, whistling a tune. He was gonna pull out all the stops today. Use every trick in his considerable bag.

And if that didn’t work? He’d dig for more.

He put the truck into gear and backed out of her driveway. Then turned it north, heading toward the mountains.

“We’re headed to Dal’s place first.”

Ivy’s reply was a grunt, and Mike Paul had to turn his head so she wouldn’t see his?—

“I know you’re smiling, so you can cut it out.” She pulled out her phone, put in earbuds, and began to scroll through her apps.

She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, but Mike Paul was okay with that because, like his grandfather—God rest his soul—had told him once, nothing worth anything in life is easy. Told him it was the hard stuff that mattered because the hard stuff lasted. Ivy was hard.

He turned up the music and settled in for the ride out to the Henhawk place. The sun made the snow sparkle, and as they climbed higher up into the mountains, Ivy began to take more of an interest. Montana was especially beautiful this time of the year, and the sight of all that new, pristine snow transforming the treetops and valleys into a winter wonderland made a man feel small.

It was big out here. Took a certain kind of person to call this state home. It bred strength because it had to. You didn’t survive a Montana winter unless your roots were strong. His family had lived in Montana since the early 20s when a young buck by the name of John Darlington and his young bride had come from England to make a new life. They’d put down the kind of foundation that held, and as he glanced over to Ivy, he knew he wanted the same thing.

“What?” she asked, catching his eye before he could turn away. She pulled one of her earbuds out and raised an eyebrow.

“We’re here,” he said, pulling into Henhawk’s driveway.

“Oh.” Her reply was quiet. “Right.”

Mike Paul pulled in behind Dallas’s truck, and the two of them hopped out of the rig. He grabbed his bag and headed for the barn, figuring Dallas would be there.

He was right.

But the man wasn’t alone. He was busy kissing his wife and had her up against the wall when he and Ivy walked inside.

“Woah,” Mike Paul said with a grin. “Do you guys need us to leave and come back?”

Vivian peeked her head over Dallas’s shoulder. “Shoot, you’re early. And you brought Ivy.”

“It’s an auction thing,” Ivy said quickly. “I’m just along for the ride.”

“I heard something about that.” Vivian grinned and shot her new husband a quick look.

“Guess you’re still in the honeymoon phase.” Mike Paul set down his bag.

The couple had been married the week before. A small affair at the courthouse attended by Vivian’s pal Jack, the rest of the Bridgestones, and Dallas’s sister.

“Will be for as long as I can make it last,” Vivian said, pulling on a piece of straw that was stuck in her hair. “We decided to officially go away after the holidays.”

“Where you headed?” Ivy asked.

“We’re not sure. I think we’re just going to pack light and see where we land.”

“Trust me,” Dallas said, “this one doesn’t know how to pack light.”

Vivian laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to her guests. “Have you had coffee yet? I was going inside to brew a fresh pot.”

“I’m good,” Mike Paul replied.

“I never turn down a fresh cup.” Ivy smiled.

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