Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(77)

Ivy’s heart was in her throat. She was trying to remember if anyone had ever apologized to her before, especially a male, but nothing was coming to mind. And that alone was boggling.

Kel hated airing his feelings, she knew that. And yet here he stood, in front of a hundred homeless people and also her friends, who’d all stilled and were staring at them.

“Maybe we should talk about this later,” she whispered, which didn’t matter since she could now hear a pin drop in the unbelievably crowded hall that only moments before had been at deafening levels. “After I’m done working here.”

“You’d deprive an old woman of this Hallmark moment?” Edna asked in horror. “I haven’t been wooed since 1965. Don’t take this away from me, honey.”

Kel drew a deep breath and took Ivy’s hands. “Later won’t work,” he said. “I was wrong to let you think I blamed you, for any of what happened. And I should never have let you run off without saying that to you.”

“What did you do?” Amelia asked. “Cheat on her?”

“No,” Kel said, still holding Ivy’s gaze in his own. “Worse. I let her think I didn’t trust her.”

“Well that was dumb,” Edna said. “She’s serving the homeless on Christmas Eve. She’s trustable.”

“She is.” This from Sadie, who gave Kel a hard look. “And she deserves better.”

Ivy shook her head. “Sadie—”

“No, it’s true,” Kel said. “I have this thing that I do. I don’t let people in past my guard.”

“That’s a man thing,” one of the ladies said. “They’re chickenshits.”

“That’s true too,” Kel said, still holding Ivy’s gaze. “I was the biggest chickenshit of all.”

“You’ve got to speak up,” Amelia demanded. “I can’t hear very well, and since I’m not getting my mashed potatoes anytime soon, the least you can do is talk loud enough for us all to hear.”

Kel’s lips twitched, but his eyes remained very serious as he spoke to Ivy. “In the past, a lack of communication and dishonesty has gotten in the way of my relationships. And I used that past to blow this—you and me—up.”

Ivy bit her lower lip and grimaced. “Well, I did my fair share of meeting you halfway there,” she admitted.

With a real smile this time, he stepped into her, apparently not caring that he was now hugging up to the gravy spill. “No, this is on me, Ivy. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“Wow,” Edna said. “He also admits when he’s wrong. That’s a rare breed.”

“That’s true,” Sadie said.

Ivy glanced over at her and Sadie lifted her shoulders, silently letting Ivy know she was at her back no matter what. The warm fuzzy that the gesture sent through her was new and very welcome. And maybe also made her far braver than she might have been if she’d still been alone. Braver, and more honest. “We’ve both been burned by our past, in a big way,” she said to Kel. “Maybe too burned.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t believe that.” He slid a hand to her waist, the other skimming down her arm to gently and slowly remove the very sharp knife she still held. “Earlier you said you felt like I was looking for something, and you didn’t know what it was.”

She nodded.

“It’s you,” he said. “You’re what I’m looking for. I made mistakes, a lot of them. I should have believed in you, I should never have doubted your intentions. That was my . . .” He glanced at the ladies. “My chickenshit-ness doing the talking for me. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and my own fears. You gave me your love and I burned that love to the ground. I’ll never do that again.” He bent a little at the knees so they were eye-to-eye. “Never,” he said with a seriousness she’d not seen from him before. “And I should admit, I’ve probably got a lot more mistakes yet to make.”

She found a smile. “Ditto.”

He smiled too. “Maybe we could learn and grow together.”

She stared into his eyes. “Maybe. And maybe we could also . . .”

“Anything,” he said. “Name it.”

“Start over?”

He stared at her and then smiled and held out a hand. “Hi. I’m Kel O’Donnell. I’m new to town, love spicy tacos, and the woman who makes them. Also . . .” He pulled an iPad from his inside jacket pocket and showed her a document. “I wanted to deliver this personally.”

She stared down at what appeared to be a purchase agreement for her condo, the same exact deal as she’d had, only the down payment had been marked paid. “What’s this?”

“Your deal went through today.”

She stared up at him. “How? My deposit’s gone.”

“It’s worked out,” he said.

She eyed the paperwork again and realized he’d made the down payment for her. “Are you crazy, you can’t buy a woman you’re just sleeping with a condo.”

“If it freaks you out, consider it a loan until PayPal reverses Brandon’s transaction. Caleb’s attorney said he could make it happen, things are just being held up because of the holiday. And,” he said, softer now. “We’re more than just sleeping together.” His mouth curved in amusement at the collective gasp in the room, though his eyes remained serious and on hers. “Much more.”