Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(43)

“You don’t have dad’s side. He’s not here to tell it.”

Remy shook her head. “You’re the one who doesn’t have both sides, Kel. You acted as judge and jury, and you know what? I get it. We were kids and she left us. But she apologized to us. Or to me anyway. You weren’t interested in talking to her about it. But it was a long time ago and I think it’s time for you to make peace with it as well.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to feel about this.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re acting like you’re still ten.”

“Look,” Kel said, unusually frazzled. “I’ll be gone soon enough, can’t we try to just enjoy the rest of my visit while I’m here?”

“Oh my God. Seriously, if I hear one more time that you have to get back to Idaho . . .” She shook her head. “Just tell me this. What’s holding you there other than sheer stubbornness? I mean grandma’s been gone forever, and now grandpa’s gone too. And you’ve got the ranch being managed by a solid team. Are you really not going to come and live near your family just because you’re still pissed at Mom?”

He recognized a trap when he saw one, so he kept his mouth zipped.

“Caleb told me you’re seeing someone, a friend of his. Does she know how screwed up you are about relationships?”

“I’m not screwed up about relationships.”

“No?” she asked. “When was the last time you had one that worked?”

“My job,” he said. “It’s—”

“It’s not the job, Kel, it’s you.”

The words were a not-so-surprising echo of what Janie had told him. But they didn’t—couldn’t—understand. They didn’t know what his mom’s early lies had done to him, how it’d been only further compounded by what had happened on the job he’d put ahead of his personal life for so long . . . “You don’t understand,” he said tightly.

“Oh, I think I understand plenty. You’re nursing a grudge that’s two decades old. And I get it, you were burned young, and that sucks. You can’t trust your heart, and that also sucks. But have you ever tried looking for a better outcome?”

He opened his mouth to argue, but Remy shook her head. “Never mind, I’m wasting my breath,” she said, standing up. “My own fault. I thought you’d grown up.”

He was still standing there, pissed off and a whole bunch of other things as well when Remy gently took Harper from him.

“Maybe you should rethink being here at all,” she said quietly, resettling the baby against her. “If it’s so hard for you.” And then, with a kiss to his jaw that belied the harshness of her words, she left him alone with his own thoughts, none of which were good.

It would certainly be easier for him to just go and forget how his mom had looked when she’d laid eyes on him. Forget the way Harper had felt in his arms. Forget how it was to have Caleb close again. Forget the emotions that had broken free when he’d had his mouth on Ivy’s . . .

All of it, he could walk away from all of it, and maybe he should.





Chapter 16




Bust it out with every ounce you have left



Normally, Ivy left the truck in Jenny’s capable hands by five in the afternoon, which still made it a twelve hour day for her, but tonight Jenny had a coffee date, so Ivy was up.

“You sure it’s okay if I leave early?” Jenny asked for the tenth time.

“Go. Have fun. Take mace and a whistle, and make sure you text me when you get there and leave.”

“Yes, Mom,” Jenny said with a smart salute. “You do realize this is the only way to meet guys now, right? And that at some point even you, the hundred-year-old soul, is going to have to set up an online profile somewhere to get laid.”

“Eh?” Ivy asked, cupping a hand around her ear, pretending to be ancient. “But I don’t even know how to use The Facebook.”

Jenny snorted. “See, you are old. No one our age uses Facebook anymore, except to check in with their grandmas. And even if you don’t want a guy in your life right now, how about sex? And two of my best friends met their significant others on Tinder.”

“Not happening,” Ivy said.

“Then how will you meet anyone?”

Ivy thought of Kel, and how he’d literally just walked into her life. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.”

“That’s oddly sage and Zen of you,” Jenny said. “But you’re never sage and Zen.”

“Do you want to leave, or stay here and argue with me?”

“Bye,” Jenny said and vanished.

It was seven p.m. before Ivy finished cleaning and closing up shop. She backed out of the food truck, concentrating on making sure the new lock was engaged. Then she looked around to make sure no one was watching and did her little deal with a small piece of tape, squatting low to get it down where no one would notice it.

Okay, so yeah, she was far more unnerved than she’d let on about the two break-ins. She’d have to be stupid not to be. Pushing to her feet, she turned to leave, and caught a shadowy outline of a man way too close. With a gasp, she jumped back a step, and nearly out of her own skin to boot. “Dammit,” she said, hand to her chest. “You need a bell.”