Page 30 of Wasted On You

Mike Paul didn’t answer. He moved through the crowd, his focus solely on Ivy, and when he finally reached her, he tipped back the second glass of champagne, emptied it, and set it on the bar beside her. She’d just grabbed hold of a glass of wine and glanced up. Damned if he didn’t feel like he’d just been punched in the stomach. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes electric, and she looked like he was the last person on the planet she wanted to see. And yet, he couldn’t help but smile.

Which made her eyes go dark and squinty. She was about to blow, which made Ivy, quite literally, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Hey,” he managed to say without sounding like a complete idiot.

Her tongue darted out and swiped at the corner of her delectable mouth. She opened said mouth, but was interrupted before she could speak.

“Why if it isn’t the most eligible bachelor in the room.” Val Hutchins appeared from nowhere and all but purred like a kitten. Where in hell had she come from?

The woman looked like every school boy’s wet dream, a modern-day Marilyn Monroe. Tall, stacked, with long blonde hair and ripe red lips, she presented herself as a predator, which was a shame because the few times he’d been with her, she’d shown glimpses of something completely different. She wasn’t for him—his heart was already taken, but he figured if she stopped trying to be something she wasn’t, she might find someone decent to settle down with.

“Val,” he replied lightly, though his gaze was firmly planted on Ivy.

“What is it about a man in a black suit that makes us girls go crazy?” She moved close enough to touch Mike Paul’s arm. “Especially when they’re so darn tall and…” She winked. “Handsome.”

“We’re in the middle of a conversation,” Ivy said, voice cool and controlled, which was the direct opposite to the fire in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Val replied, her voice low and rough, like smoke over glass.

“No, you’re not.”

If Val was surprised at the aggressive tone Ivy had taken, she didn’t show it. Her smile widened, and she shrugged. “I was just wondering where your yummy fiancé is. I’m a huge fan and thought maybe I could get a photo and an autograph.”

“He’s not here.”

“That is a shame.” Val’s eyes moved from Ivy to Mike Paul. “Haven’t seen you at the Frisky Coyote for a while.”

Mike Paul cleared his throat, about as uncomfortable as he’d been in a long time. “Been busy.”

“Too busy for some sweet pie?” She made an exaggerated sad face. “You said it was the best slice of heaven you’d ever had.”

It was hard to keep his head straight, what with Ivy throwing darts from her eyes and Val making it seem they were more than what they’d ever been.

“Mike Paul never did have much of a sweet tooth.” Ivy piped in, then drained her wine glass in one long shot. “At least, not for the kind of sweets you find in these parts.”

Val didn’t take the bait. She gave a small shrug and smiled. “That’s not how I remember it.” She winked at Mike Paul. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that Mike Paul’s sweet tooth rivals just about any of the fine gentlemen here tonight. Heck, I serve up so much sweet pie that Alonzo is making twice as much as he used to before I started working for him.”

“I heard you make home deliveries.” Ivy’s tone was biting.

“On occasion.” Val’s tone changed, and Ivy signaled for more wine. “I took Mike Paul some sweet pie just last month.”

Shit. This was headed south fast. It was the truth. Valhadbrought him some pie. But only because he’d ordered up a bunch for his sister, who’d been visiting and dealing with a major pregnancy craving. He was about to tell Ivy just that when Mary Margaret snuck up on him, grabbed his arm, and pushed him back to the stage.

He didn’t have a chance to explain.

Or diffuse the situation.

Or make sure Val made it out of this place alive. Because if he’d learned one thing about Ivy Wilkens, she gave as good as she got. And if Val thought she could tangle with a tiger like Ivy, she had another thing coming.

As much as she deserved what she got for poking the bear, it would be ugly.

Chapter9

Ivy had to step back.

It was that or pull out every single blonde hair on Val Hutchins’s perfect fucking head. As the lights dimmed and a spotlight appeared on stage, Ivy stared across the room at nothing and counted to ten, aware that Val stood a few feet from her, looking like a goddess with all those platinum waves, TikTok-worthy makeup and a pair of boobs that would make menandwomen take notice. Seriously. They defied gravity.

Eventually, Mary Margaret came into focus. The woman stood in front of the microphone, the frosted ends of her hair sparkling under that spotlight like shards of ice. Her words melted together, and Ivy paid no mind. She tried her best to get her anger to a point where she could function, but it was no use. And as the room faded along with Mary Margaret’s words, the past tumbled before her, and she was helpless to stop it. Images and scenes played out, and she closed her eyes to stop them.

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