Page 26 of The Coach

“Busy?” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

I flounder for a moment, the words catching in my throat. “Things,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “Lots of things.”

“Things,” he repeats, clearly amused. “Sounds important.”

“Oh, very important,” I say, narrowing my eyes at his teasing tone.

He smirks, leaning forward slightly. “You sure you’re not just trying to avoid spending more time with me?”

I sigh, shaking my head as a small laugh escapes me.Why the hell can’t I just enjoy this, whatever it is?I think to myself. He’s here, he’s charming, and he’s asking to spend the day with me. Why play games?

“Alright, fine,” I say, giving him a playful glare. “I’ll play small-town chauffeur for you. But don’t get used to it.”

“Perfect,” he says, grinning like he’s just won a prize. “Can you take me the long way around? I want the Ivy personal tour.”

I laugh, standing to grab the plates and rinse them in the sink. “Oh, the long way, huh? What are you hoping to see?”

“Everything,” he says, leaning back in his chair with an easy smile. “Especially the places that mean something to you.”

The sincerity in his tone catches me off guard, and for a moment, I just stand there, unsure of what to say. Then I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Alright, Jackson. Let’s see if this little town can impress you.”

“Game on. I’m not easily impressed.”

Chapter Six

JACKSON

I lean back in the passenger seat, one arm resting on the window as Ivy drives us down a quiet, tree-lined road. The town unfolds around us like something out of a postcard—charming storefronts, kids riding bikes on the sidewalk, an old couple walking hand in hand near a coffee shop. Train horns sound in the distance. I’ve never been in a small town quite like it.

I glance over at Ivy as she talks animatedly, one hand on the wheel, the other gesturing as she points out various places. Her hair’s pulled up in a loose ponytail, and the sunlight catches on a stray strand that’s escaped. She’s glowing, her passion for this town obvious, and I can’t stop staring at her.

“That’s the park where I go running,” she says, nodding toward a small, well-kept green space. “My best friend Lauren drags me out there way too early on Saturday mornings.”

“Running? Or walking with coffee in hand?” I tease, smirking.

She shoots me a mock glare. “Hey, I can run. I just...don’tloveit. I actually prefer walking. Going on hikes.”

“Where do you walk? This isn’t exactly the Rocky Mountains.”

“It might be mostly flat, but we have nature in the midwest!”

“Your attitude is honestly contagious.”

She laughs. “Wanna drive by it? It’s kind of out in the cornfields. There’s a forest preserve.”

“We could drive by. We could also just, you know, go for an actual walk. It’s a nice day. And I changed into my casual shorts in the hotel.”

“It’s a special place. But I’ll take you there, what the hay.”

I laugh to myself. Ivy is the kind of girl who sayswhat the hay, and gets excited about a walk in the middle of Iowan cornfields.And I really do love it.

Twenty minutes later, after pulling past a few miles of cornfields, the terrain changes slightly to small rolling hills—as hilly as Iowa gets—and we pull into a parking lot with just a few other cars parked.

The pine-scented air hits me the second we step out of the car, crisp and clean in a way I’d almost forgotten existed. It’s quiet here—not the oppressive kind of quiet, but the peaceful kind, the kind that makes you feel like the world slowed down just enough for you to catch your breath.

“This is Whispering Pines,” Ivy says, leading the way toward a dirt trail that cuts through the trees. To her credit, it’s not the Rocky Mountains, but therearesome rolling hills. She looks over her shoulder at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s my favorite spot in town. Or…outside of town, I guess.”

I glance around, taking in the towering pines, the golden wildflowers dotting the edges of the trail, and the sunlight filtering through the trees like something out of a painting. “It’s got its charms,” I admit, following her down the path.

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