Three Blissful Days, page 20
“I deserve that.” Ivy nodded, wiping away a tear. “What can I do?”
Karen took another deep breath. “For starters, you can tell me the truth. The whole truth. About everything.”
“Everything?” Ivy asked, suddenly looking nervous again.
“Everything,” Karen said, her gaze now locked with Ivy’s. “Starting with why you felt you needed to create this elaborate charade instead of just talking to me and your father.”
Ivy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll tell you everything.”
Her mother patted the edge of the bed. “Lance, maybe you should give us a minute.”
“No. Dad needs to hear this too.” Ivy crossed the room to sit beside her. Even over the antiseptic hospital smell, the familiar scent of her mom’s lavender lotion was comforting as anxiety twisted her stomach into knots.
“I lied to you both,” Ivy said, barely above a whisper. “About Kendall.”
Her mom’s expression remained open, waiting.
“We’re not actually a couple. We never were.” The words tumbled out now. “When you kept asking if I was seeing anyone, and then you mentioned setting me up with yet another one of your friends’ daughters, I panicked. Kendall agreed to pretend to be my girlfriend for the duration of her visit.” She kept Kendall’s ex to herself for the time being, not wanting her mother to think Kendall had used the situation to her advantage. After all, Ivy was the one who put the whole fake relationship into play.
Ivy stared down at her hands. “I thought it would just be for a little while, until Kendall finished her business and went back to Oklahoma. But the interviews were extended a week, then everyone loved her so much, and you both seemed so happy for me, and it just snowballed.”
Her mother was quiet for a long moment before asking, “Why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t interested in dating anyone?”
“I think she has, several times.” Lance spoke up. “I don’t think you were listening.”
“Dad’s right. I have mentioned it.” She smiled. “Probably not firmly enough because I know you want me to be happy, and I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Ivy’s voice caught. “The truth is, now I do have feelings for someone. Real feelings. For Kendall.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “What started as pretend for me isn’t pretend anymore. Every time we’re together, even when we’re just practicing being a couple, feels more real than anything I’ve ever experienced. But for Kendall, it could still be just an act.” She was still unsure, even after Kendall indicated she wanted more the other night.
Her mom reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Ivy’s ear. “Oh, honey.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Ivy said, finally looking up. “I was embarrassed and confused, and I didn’t know how to explain it all.”
To Ivy’s surprise, her mother smiled. “You know, I suspected something was off. Kendall is a terrible actor.”
“What? No. She’s been perfect—”
“Perfect for you, maybe.” Her mom chuckled. “But every time you leave the room, that girl looks at you like she’s memorizing you, afraid you might disappear. That’s not the expression of someone who’s pretending.”
Ivy’s heart skipped a beat. “You think…?”
Her mom squeezed her hand gently. “I think you should be having this conversation with Kendall, not me.”
“You’re probably right. I’m just not sure how to make it real.” The last thing she wanted to happen was to have Kendall reject her.
“Maybe just tell her. You did a fine job with me.”
Her mom was right, but Ivy was afraid of getting her heart broken.
Chapter Fifty-one
Ivy led the way up the narrow path on the mountain, her breath forming small clouds in the crisp autumn air. The forest around them was alive with color. Amber, crimson, and gold leaves were catching the early morning light, a sight Ivy never grew tired of. A gentle mist clung to the ground, giving the woods an ethereal quality.
It had been a few days since her mom had been released from the hospital, but today was the first day she and Kendall hadn’t spent the morning with her. At her mother’s suggestion, Ivy decided to take Kendall on a hike to one of her favorite places instead.
“Not much farther,” she said, glancing back at Kendall. “Eagle Ridge is just past this next bend.” The usually put-together, all-business Ivy wore regular hiking clothes and looked even hotter than in uniform.
Kendall nodded, adjusting the small pack on her shoulders. “I still can’t believe I’ve been here many times before and never made this hike.” It wasn’t surprising since Noah wasn’t much of a hiker.
“Most people don’t know about it,” Ivy replied, pushing a low-hanging branch aside. “My grandfather showed me when I was little. The eagles have been nesting here for generations.”
They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds their footsteps on the carpet of fallen leaves and the occasional call of a black-capped Carolina chickadee. The path grew steeper, and Ivy reached back instinctively, offering her hand to Kendall, who took it, her fingers warmed against Ivy’s despite the morning chill.
“Watch your step here,” Ivy said, navigating around a moss-covered rock. She didn’t let go of Kendall’s hand even after they passed the obstacle.
The trail opened suddenly onto a rocky outcropping that jutted from the mountainside. Below them, the valley stretched out in a patchwork of autumn colors, a silver ribbon of river winding through it. The rising sun painted everything in soft, golden light.
“Oh, wow,” Kendall said, taking it all in as she tried to catch her breath. “This is incredible.”
Ivy smiled, watching her face rather than the view. “Wait till you see the eagles.” She led her to the northern edge of the ridge, where a mass of ancient pines grew. After taking out a small pair of binoculars from her pack, Ivy handed them to her.
“Look there,” Ivy said, pointing. “Third tree from the left, about two-thirds of the way up.”
Kendall raised the binoculars and adjusted the focus. After a moment, she saw light movement within the branches. “I see them. The nest is huge,” she said, her voice rising with excitement.
“They add to it every year,” Ivy explained, moving closer to her. “That pair has been coming back for at least a decade. And look. You can just make out the newly hatched chicks.”
Kendall nodded. “Two of them. They’re so big already.” She’d never seen anything like this before except on social media. The parks department had installed a solar-powered camera to observe a pair of eagles in California’s Big Bear Park. She’d been following them on and off for years.
“They’ll fledge soon,” Ivy said. “In a few weeks, they’ll be taking their first flights.”
They sat down on a flat rock close by, shoulders touching, passing the binoculars back and forth as the sun climbed higher, burning away the morning mist.
“It’s strange to think about,” Kendall said after a bit of silence. “These eagles have been doing this for thousands of years—building nests, raising their young—completely unaware of all the human drama occurring down below them.”
Ivy nodded. “That’s what I love about coming up here. It puts things in perspective.”
“How so?” Kendall asked, turning to face her.
“All our worries, our deadlines, our complications seem so important. But then you see something like this—” she gestured toward the eagles “—something that’s part of a life cycle that’s been going on since long before we were here and will continue long after we’re gone. It makes me feel small in the universe of things, but not in a bad way.”
Kendall was quiet for a moment, taking in the depth of Ivy’s statement. “I think I understand. It’s humbling but also comforting somehow.” She couldn’t look at Ivy any longer and had to look away. Ivy was smart, sexy, and compassionate, and the impact Ivy was having her on her was too much.
“Exactly,” she said softly. “It reminds me that we’re part of something bigger.”
The mother eagle took flight suddenly, her wingspan impressive as she caught an updraft and soared over the valley. They watched in silence as she circled once, twice, then dove toward the river below.
“I’ve never seen anything like this outside of webcams,” Kendall said, letting her voice fill with wonder. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
Ivy smiled. “I’ve wanted to share this with someone for a long time. I’m glad it is you.” The brilliant hue of sunlight warmed her face.
Was it only the sunlight coloring her skin, Kendall wondered. Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The eagles, the vista, the autumn colors. Kendall reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Ivy’s ear, letting her hand linger on Ivy’s cheek.
“You know,” Kendall said quietly, her heart beating faster. “I think I’m starting to see why this place is so special to you.” She sighed, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the rising sun.
Ivy leaned into her touch. “And now it will always remind me of you too.” When Ivy bit her bottom lip, Kendall’s toes curled, and her stomach did a huge somersault.
Kendall took her cue and the opportunity to brush her lips against Ivy’s. The kiss was tentative and light, and she was unsure of moving forward, but she felt no resistance, only soft, sweet lips returning contact, urgency slowly increasing. Ivy gave her a green light by slipping her tongue between Kendall’s lips, meeting hers. They snaked their arms around each other, and Kendall dug her fingers into Ivy’s back as their tongues came into play and the kiss deepened. Her mind exploded with carnal thoughts as the tingle in her belly bounced farther south. There was no faking involved in this kiss. Her body told her to continue, but her mind told her to stop—now. She felt the hot wet drag of Ivy’s tongue across her bottom lip as she broke the kiss. Much more of that and Kendall would be going nowhere else this morning but to Ivy’s bedroom.
They sat in quiet, comfortable silence for a few minutes before Kendall shifted to put some necessary space between them. “I love this place. If I get this contract, I might never go back to Oklahoma again.”
“I’d be okay with that.” Ivy said. “And more adventures with you. Some of the best adventures happen before dawn.” She held up her phone sideways. “How about we take a selfie?” They leaned closer together and smiled
Kendall could attest to that, only the adventures she was thinking about now were usually conducted in bed. Did Ivy like sex in the morning? Keep your mind on this nature adventure, Kendall. She shook the thought from her head.
The sun climbed higher as they sat together on Eagle Ridge holding hands while no one was watching, looking at the eagles and talking sporadically in low, soothing voices. And as the morning wore on, the space Kendall had put between them slowly grew smaller.
Chapter Fifty-two
Ivy hadn’t wanted to leave Kendall this morning, but when her radio crackled to life, they headed back to the lodge, Ivy changed into her ranger uniform, and another workday in the wilderness began. The first call came from a local trail-maintenance crew. Something about a young deer trapped in some old fencing near the abandoned logging road. Ivy knew those areas well. The forest was slowly reclaiming the remnants of past human interference there.
She adjusted her ranger hat, scanning the dense pine forest around her, and found the deer about a mile down the rough dirt road. A young doe, probably no more than a few months old, had become entangled in an old wire fence, its slender leg caught in a rusted section of wire. The animal was exhausted, having clearly been struggling for hours.
“Easy now,” Ivy murmured, approaching slowly. She carried wire cutters and a calming presence that had helped her through countless wildlife encounters. The deer trembled but seemed to sense her careful approach.
With practiced precision, she cut away the wire, speaking softly the entire time. “You’re okay. Just gonna help you out.” The wire gave way, and the young deer stumbled back, momentarily stunned. Within moments, it found its footing and bounded away into the dense forest, stopping briefly at the tree line to look back, almost as if in thanks.
By midday, the radio chirped again. A group of hikers was lost on the north trail—a winding path that could be tricky even for experienced trekkers. Ivy radioed back to base, then started up the trail, her GPS and emergency kit at the ready.
She found the group about two miles in. Four college students, appearing tired and slightly panicked. “You folks look like you could use some help,” Ivy called out, her friendly tone immediately cutting through their anxiety.
They hadn’t realized how far they’d wandered from the marked trail. Ivy pulled out her map, showing them exactly where they were. “See these ridge lines? They’re your best landmarks. At this time of day, always keep the sun at your back, to the west, and you’ll find your way to the lodge.”
She walked them to the main trailhead, pointing out trail markers and sharing stories that made the hike feel shorter than usual. By the time they reached the visitors’ center, they were laughing, their earlier panic seemingly forgotten.
As the afternoon waned, Ivy made one last stop in town. The local outdoor-supply store had a small selection of camping gear. She picked out a set of thick, comfortable cushions that were soft enough to make the truck bed comfortable for stargazing.
“Kendall’s going to love these,” she murmured to herself, imagining the night ahead. They’d been talking about spending the evening watching the Leonids meteor shower, and these cushions would make their impromptu stargazing setup perfect. She rolled the truck-bed cover back halfway and slid the cushions into the truck bed before she rolled the cover over the top and secured it tightly. The weather app on her phone said there was a possibility of showers this evening. She hoped they didn’t last long or they would ruin her plans.
The drive back to the cabin was quiet, filled with thoughts of the woman who had come into her life by chance and had filled it with comfort. The setting sun painted the forest in shades of gold and deep green as it set on another day of protecting, guiding, and connecting with the wilderness she loved so deeply.
As she pulled up to the cabin, her stomach bounced as she saw Kendall in silhouette in the window, probably working on her latest landscape design. Home—in every sense of the word.
Chapter Fifty-three
The cabin was quiet except for the soft crackling of the wood stove and the distant call of an owl. Ivy sat propped against the arm of the couch, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on Kendall’s arm as she lay nestled against her.
Kendall’s work clothes were draped over a chair, replaced by one of Ivy’s soft flannel shirts. Her sketches from her proposed lodge project were spread across the small desk by the window, illuminated by a single reading lamp.
“Tell me about your day,” Ivy murmured, her voice low and warm. Her hand never stopped its gentle movement—a touch that was more comfort than anything else.
Kendall shifted slightly, her head resting on Ivy’s shoulder. “The playground design is coming together. I’m trying to incorporate natural elements—fallen logs for climbing, stone formations that blend with the existing landscape. Something that feels like an extension of the forest, not something imposed on it.”
Ivy pressed a soft kiss to the top of Kendall’s head. “Sounds like you’re doing what you do best. Making spaces feel like they’ve always belonged.”
The compliment hung in the air, soft and meaningful. Kendall’s hand found Ivy’s, their fingers intertwining. Outside, a light rain began to tap against the cabin windows—a gentle rhythm that seemed to match the quiet intimacy of the moment.
“How was your day?” Kendall asked, knowing Ivy’s ranger shifts could be unpredictable.
Ivy’s fingers continued their soothing motion. “Rescued a young deer caught in some fencing. Helped a group of hikers who got turned around on the north trail. Nothing extraordinary, but one of the good days.”
Kendall lifted her head to meet Ivy’s eyes. No words were necessary. They both understood that good days meant days spent doing exactly what they were meant to do, in the places that felt most like home.
The rain continued its soft percussion against the window, a quiet accompaniment to their shared silence. Kendall savored these moments alone with Ivy. Soon they would go to the diner for dinner, be on public display again, acting as though it all mattered more than it did, and knowing it mattered more than it should.
The neon sign of the diner cast a warm glow across Kendall and Ivy’s booth by the window that was still dotted with raindrops from the light cloudburst earlier. The red vinyl seats squeaked as Kendall shifted, scanning the laminated menu even though she’d ordered the same Denver omelet with a side of bacon she’d had the last time she was there with Ivy.
“You know, eventually you’ll have to try something different,” Ivy said, folding her menu and setting it aside. Her dark curls were pulled into a messy bun, a few strands framing her face.
Kendall shrugged. “When I like something, I stick with it. I don’t see you ordering anything different.”
“Why mess with perfection? Besides, their French toast is amazing.”
“You’ll never know how good the omelet is if you don’t—” She froze mid-sentence, her eyes fixed on something over Ivy’s shoulder.
“What?” Ivy asked, turning to follow Kendall’s gaze.
Kendall put her hand on Ivy’s. “Don’t look, but June just walked in,” she whispered, slouching lower in her seat.
A tingle of jealousy shot through Kendall as the young, very attractive waitress walked through the diner’s entrance wearing tight jeans and a leather jacket, hair falling in perfect waves down her shoulders. The same June who’d been not-so-subtly pursuing Ivy for weeks before Kendall and Ivy had started their fake relationship to ward off unwanted romantic attention.
