Page 20 of The Magical Tea Shop

“I’d love to, Alden, but why are you inviting me? Are there any other grown-ups going?”

“Just you. I’m the ball boy for the Rebels, and you’re the best.”

Ivy had a flash of insight. “Did you try my cookies at the Rebels game?”

He nodded. “I only got one. You’ll really come?”

“I will.” What the heck, if Jaxon could hang out with a bunch of nine and ten-year-olds, she could hang out with a bunch of twelve and thirteen-year-old boys.

“Will there be any other girls?”

Alden bunched his lips together in an expression of distaste. “Well, my sister.” He rolled his eyes. “Because Mom said she could come. All my friends like her cause she’s fifteen—well”—he waved a hand near his chest—“whatever—but I like you. Thank you. I’ll see you next Sunday!”

Ivy shook her head as he dashed out the door, followed more slowly by his dad. She stacked their used dishes on a tray. The Very Special Cookies had made her popular with all ages. Could it be they really worked? It seemed so implausible, but she had lined up five dates in a little over a week. She gave an amazed laugh. No wonder Holly was ticked. Ivy was on her way to win her first bet ever against her sister.

Chapter Eight

Jaxon settled intohis seat at the back of the auditorium. One of his clients, Cece, had roped him into helping out the local community theater group, convincing him to design their sets. Set design was a new venture for him, but once he understood what they needed, he’d gotten into it. The play was a Sherlock Holmes melodrama with characters popping in and out of windows and doors. It had been a blast to design, and he’d created a four-sided version that would spin when they needed a different set for a new act.

He’d missed opening night by taking the Little Leaguers to Kayley’s Refresher, so he was using his comp ticket tonight. He’d had two, but who was he going to take? Montgomery wasn’t allowed in the theater. Jaxon was flipping through the program when he glanced up and saw a flash of sun-kissed ponytail halfway down the aisle.

Could it be? His heartbeat picked up. Yes, Ivy was coming down the aisle. He was about to rise and invite her to sit by him—seats weren’t assigned for these small, local productions—when he saw Joel step in close and place his hand possessively on her lower back.

No way. She was on a date with Joel? Last night it was Roman, and now it was the brashest Rebel?

Jaxon endured an instant of deep betrayal and then scoffed. When had he ever told Joel he was interested in Ivy? Never, that’s when. They weren’t close. Besides, they were men. They didn’t share feelings. He didn’t have anyone to share his feelings with.

Not anymore, and kind of not even when Candace was alive.

Besides, who could blame Joel? Ivy looked—wow. She’d curled the ends of her ponytail and was dressed in a mint-green dress with a delicate white flower pattern that molded her curviness to perfection. She looked fresh, like spring personified. Joel, in an ill-fitting dark suit, was the Hades to Ivy’s Persephone. Jaxon scowled. To be fair, Joel appeared mesmerized, watching her slide into her chair in a row right up front. His hand hovered right by Ivy’s bottom like he wanted to cup it.

Jaxon almost rose up to rush down the aisle to stop him. But Joel halted and acted the gentleman at the last minute, sitting down beside her and handing her a program. He leaned over. Oh, were they sharing? How sweet. Heads close, they flipped through the program together.

Would they see his name? Know he had helped with the production?

He was being ridiculous. He didn’t need to impress Joel, but Ivy, well—he wanted her good opinion. The auditorium began to fill. He couldn’t see Ivy well, except for her honey ponytail which swam before his eyes.

Lights dimmed once, twice, and then down as Jaxon settled in to watch his set design in action.

*

Ivy couldn’t believehow much she was enjoying this show. It was hilarious. The characters climbing in and out of windows, and Cece’s melodramatic overacting as Mrs. Hudson had her laughing until she had tears in her eyes. The whole production was a local masterpiece and whoever designed the costumes, makeup, and sets were geniuses.

How had she never come to one of these productions? When the lights swooped back up, she turned to her date with a bright smile.

“Joel, this is so much fun, thank you.”

“Come on,” he said, “let’s hit the refreshment stand before the line gets too long.” He grabbed her hand, and she let him pull her along with him up the side aisle. In line, they chatted about the play. Tea wasn’t on the menu, so she ended up with a cup of black coffee and an apple crisp she recognized as her sister’s. It was in a little individual sleeve with a Hollister’s Bakery sticker.

She would have to see about donating some of her own scones for the next theater production. She could order new sleeves with her business name, instead of the plain white ones she used now. It’d be good advertising. Ah, maybe she was learning from her sister.

She turned and bumped into a hard body.

“Oh,” she gasped. A hand raised her cup high just in time to prevent her dumping coffee all over herself.

She blinked up into brown eyes like steeped Darjeeling and lost herself for a moment in a rush of warmth. She blinked. “Jaxon, hi.”

Thoughts of hungry kissing breezed through her brain. His eyes radiated hunger for just a moment.For her?

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