Page 77 of Wasted On You

“Huh?” Kip was in another world entirely, stirring a spoon in his coffee and staring out the window.

“The Christmas Eve open house? Where is it, and why are they coming?”

“It’s at the Bridgestone ranch. Millie Sue called the house to remind us of it because she couldn’t get a hold of you.”

Great. That’s what all the messages on her cell were about.

“Dammit. I forgot about that.” She sat up. “This is a mess. What are we going to do? Why did my mother have to poke her nose into our business? She always makes things worse.”

Kip shrugged and sighed. “This whole thing is a heaping pile of shit. What the hell were we thinking?” He swore and looked up at the ceiling, clearly frustrated.

“We weren’t.” She grimaced. “At least I wasn’t. I wanted you here, and I was selfish to let it happen.”

“And you no longer need a buffer?” Kip finally cracked a smile and pointed to her neck. “Do you want to get rid of the scarf now?”

Ivy blushed. “I think I’ll wait. Your grandfather is still here.”

“Shit. Right,” Kip’s voice softened. “He’s looking forward to meeting the woman who finally tamed his wild grandson. It was nice to see him happy.” Kip glanced away. “And he looks good, all considering.”

“Then don’t disappoint him.” She jumped off the sofa and walked over to Kip. “Let’s get through Christmas, and then we can tell everyone we’ve decided to postpone things. There won’t be a reason for your family to stay, and once they’re gone, we’ll end things. Tell everyone that we work better as friends and go about our lives. You’re headed to Florida for spring training in a couple of months, and I’ll be busy with Cal and the band and rehearsals and?—”

“Mike Paul?”

Her blush deepened. “That’s the plan.”

“We’ll keep the status quo for now. But only if that’s what you want, Ivy. I’m fine ending it right now.”

She nodded. “It is.”

“Good morning.” The voice was gruff as if ill-used.

“Hey, Gramps,” Kip said. They both turned around. “This is Ivy.”

An older man stood at the kitchen island. He had a full head of silver hair with bushy eyebrows to match. He was still tall for a man his age, though thin. His clothes hung off of him. His eyes were kind, his face lined from life, and his love for his grandson was obvious. She saw Kip in his face and her reaction was immediate.

“Hello,” she said softly.

It was only two days. She could do this for Kip.

Ivy offered a smile, and the countdown began.

Chapter21

Ivy had been dodgingMike Paul all day, and he didn’t like it one bit. What the hell was up with that? They’d spent an amazing night together—the kind of night women read about in those romance books—and he’d woken up alone. It wasn’t something he was used to, and with a frown, he fingered the piece of paper in his hand. He’d read it so many times he could recite it word for word.

Hey,I didn’t want to wake you. But I had to get back to the house and take care of a few things. Last night was incredible. Talk soon. Xo, Ivy

He’d readit over at least one hundred times. She’d used the word incredible, so that was good, right? But the note was short and didn’t say much beyond that they’d talk. With a sigh, he tossed the paper onto the counter and stared at it. Then glanced up at the clock.

“It’s only five minutes later than the last time,” Jacob said from his perch near the fireplace. Weiner and Bun were at his feet, and he paused the game he’d been playing online.

“What’s that?”

“You keep looking at the clock.”

It was Sunday evening. He hadn’t heard her voice. Or smelled her smell. Or touched her skin in over twelve hours. And the avoiding thing he could do without. He had more unanswered calls than wanted to admit to. Calls that she would reply to with short text messages that told him nothing. It was the same bullshit over and over.

I’ve got some things to take care of.

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