Page 48 of Snow Harm, No Foul

Once she’s taken it with a pat on my forearm, I start on her drink. I’m taking advantage of her lack of sickness so far this morning, even if I’d rather use the chance to get some food in her belly instead of a slushy drink.

Travis doesn’t flinch at my tone. He’s so busy staring down Ivy where she sits that I doubt he even heard me. His curling lip has me on alert.

“Hey, Travis,” Ivy says, offering a half-smile.

“Hey, Travis? That’s what you want your first words to be?” he snaps, shaking his head incredulously.

Ivy lays her hand flat on the bar. “What would you prefer I say?”

“Fuck, I dunno. I’m sorry for fucking your dad? What the shit!” he thunders, smacking his bottle onto the bar. His head is on a swivel when he adds, “How are the two of you so calm right now? You do know that I caught you sleeping together, right? How are you making a fucking drink right now!”

I wet my lips and finish pouring the syrup into the blender. His outburst is expected, and I try to remind myself of that even as my own temper flares.

“I’m only calm because I’m not ashamed, Travis. I didn’t do anything wrong as far as I’m concerned. We broke up months ago, and you were a total asshole to me,” Ivy says, shoulders straightening.

My son laughs cruelly. “So, I should go fuck your mom, then?”

“Travis,” I spit, slamming the lid on the blender. “Watch your mouth.”

Ivy winces when Travis puts all his focus on me now. A storm rages in his brown eyes, and then he opens his mouth and spews everything I was expecting.

“So, Ivy’s not ashamed. What about you, old man? Are you feeling guilty, considering you’re not only fucking my ex-girlfriend but someone way too young for you?”

“I’mnottoo young for him. He can keep up with me better than you could,” Ivy attacks, cheeks flushing red with anger.

It’s the worst time for my cock to get hard, but fuck, she’s such a sweet little thing. So protective of her man.

My son pins her beneath a glare, and she meets him with one of her own. I choose this moment to start the blender. The noise rips through the bar, forcing everyone to take a breath.

“I’ll ask you again, Travis, what are you doin’ here? Did I miss a text or call?” I ask once I’ve finished with the blender.

The collection of daiquiri glasses I picked up for Ivy the morning after she left three weeks ago sit on the bar top, and I take one to fill with her drink.

“I was here looking at a new place and saw them finishing up with the plow out front. Figured you’d be here like you always are,” he answers tightly.

Him considering moving here is news to me. Didn’t think he’d ever do that.

Ivy takes her drink with a soft smile, and I force myself not to take her right here on the bar with how beautiful she looks. And when she slips the straw into her mouth . . . Fuck me.

“Don’t take cheap shots at your dad right now,” she tells Travis, frowning.

He rolls his jaw. “I don’t need you to lecture me, Ivy. You’re not my mother despite fucking my father.”

“I’m not goin’ to tell you again to watch your mouth,” I warn, coming to Ivy’s side.

Travis watches me closely, inspecting every single twitch of my limbs. And when I set a reassuring hand on her back, he cocks his head.

“How long?”

“Not long,” I answer.

Ivy rests a hand on the one I place beside her on the bar. “A few weeks.”

“Just fucking?” Travis’s throat strains with an uncomfortable swallow.

I meet his gaze and hold it. “No.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

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