Page 42 of Tempest

“I have a lot of ideas. I’d like to set up a couple of foundations and fund some things that I’m real interested in changing,” she said as she stirred the gravy. “I want to work on a program that helps kids who age out of the foster care program. I’d also like to start some no-kill shelters for animals and offer programs for kids who can’t afford college.”

“I guess some after-school sports programs for kids in at-risk neighborhoods wouldn’t be a bad idea,” he added.

Turning the heat down, Ivy studied the pan. “Maybe Daddy’s money will help a bunch of kids after all. Lord knows he failed with the both of us. Maybe spending his oil fortune on good causes will give us the peace we need.”

“Leave it to you to paint a pretty picture.”

“It’s much better than the alternative,” she said, as she poured the gravy in the bowl. “Set the table. We’re about ready.”

***

Ryan pushed away from the wall in the hall. A lot of things about Ivy suddenly made sense. He wasn’t proud that he’d resorted to eavesdropping. But he wasn’t ashamed, either. He liked to have all the intel he could, and that’s what he’d been doing.

No wonder Ivy liked to be in control and enjoyed her job as Vice President of Operations. It gave her what she needed most: order and routine. Her daddy’s abandonment was playing a part in her life to this day.

The thing that was happening between the two of them must have her about off the rails, because nothing made you feel more out of control than love and connection. And that’s what was starting between them. She could call it what she wanted, but he saw her eyes and he knew that she was scared out of her mind.

Best thing he could do was relax and not push. Which was totally against his nature. He wanted to bind her to him and make her promise a thousand times over that she would never leave. He had his own ghosts, and if he was lucky he could get rid of them by being with her. Maybe they could invite Ivy’s ghosts and his and have a damn party. Get them all out in the open and set fire to them, and watch them perish. Maybe then…they would finally be free from the past.

He wiped his hand down his face and took a steadying breath. This was about the long game, so it was time to dig deep and relax. He walked down the hall and called out, “Sure smells good in here.” When Ivy glanced up and smiled at him, he knew it didn’t matter how long the game was. He was in it until the end. And the end meant that she was bound to him and damn happy about it.

“I have perfect timing,” he said as he clapped Colin on the back.

“Whatever you did to convince my sister to make biscuits and gravy…please keep doing it. This is my favorite breakfast.” A towel hit him upside the head and he turned and grinned. “What?”

“You behave, Colin, or I’m not feeding you,” Ivy retorted as she stirred the eggs in the pan. “Make yourself useful and get the food on the table.”

“Let me help, honey,” Ryan said, as he picked up the basket of warm biscuits. He swore she mumbled that he’d helped enough. Glancing over, he noticed she was studying the eggs in the pan with more concentration than was necessary. Shrugging, he walked over and kissed her head. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

“Quit messing with the cook,” Colin bellowed from the table. “I’m hungry.”

“No one is messing with me,” Ivy said with enough starch in her voice to shut them both up. She dropped the eggs in the bowl and brought it over to the table. Sitting down, she surveyed the table. “What did I forget? Coffee!” She was about to get up when Ryan’s hand stopped her.

“Sit and eat. I’ll get it.”

“Thank you.” She started to fill Colin’s plate and Ryan’s plate and heard Colin clear his throat. “What?” she asked.

“I’m not a child, Ivy. I can make my own plate.” He took the spoon out of her hand and added eggs to the mound of food that was there.

Ryan filled the cups and placed his hand on Ivy’s shoulder. “You can make my plate, honey. I like it when you take care of me.” He threw Colin a dirty look and filled his coffee mug only halfway.

“I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” she said as she stared at her plate.

Ryan sat down and took her hand. “I think it’s sweet and I like it, so I hope you won’t listen to your brother, who apparently has rocks for brains.”

“Sorry, Ivy,” Colin mumbled, as he poured gravy over his whole plate. “Thanks for feeding me.”

Throwing her hair over her shoulder, she sniffed. “You’re welcome. Don’t you worry, Colin. From here on out, you can fend for yourself. No more special treatment for my baby brother. As far as I’m concerned, you are just another professional athlete who doesn’t deserve any of my special attention. Especially my brownies. No sir, not ever…again.”

“Ivy,” Colin whined. “You don’t have to overreact. I’m still your brother.”

Ivy delicately poured gravy over her plate, the same way Colin had. Ryan watched as she threw her brother a pitying look. The poor sap had dug his own grave, and Ryan figured he was going to do a whole lot of digging before he ever saw a plate of brownies again. “Everything is perfect,” Ryan said as he dug in.

Colin muttered, “Suck-up.” And dug into his own food.

“I may be a suck-up, but I never have to worry about where my biscuits are coming from.”

Ivy patted his leg and smiled. “That’s right, honey.” She threw her brother a look and returned to her meal.

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