It made me wonder if maybe I’d underestimated Ivy. She seemed like she was capable of manipulating the men in her life, using her body to her advantage. Ryan and I weren’t exactly close, so I had no clue how promiscuous she was. I never saw her acting overtly sexy in my presence. Until I found her smack dab in the middle of Eric’s lap, that is. That’s when I knew for sure things had gone too far. I had to put a stop to her antics before Eric’s dick got him in trouble and he did something stupid.

But he was already beyond my influence. Something about her had drawn him in and he wasn’t letting go, not without a fight. I did everything I could to make him see reason, but he didn’t want to hear it. He was determined to have her no matter what I said or did. He tossed me casually aside for a girl barely out of her teens who’d come from nothing and knew even less. We could’ve been so good together, great even. But he didn’t want an equal, a relationship of like minds and similar interests. No, he wanted to bury himself in this small town and fuck the living daylights out of some little tramp. He was giving up by settling for Ivy. She isn’t right for him. She can’t give him what he needs in the long run. But he didn’t seem to care.

And once again, he knocked up another one of his charity case girlfriends. Talk about being fertile. He was virile enough to impregnate the whole town. It’s a good thing I didn’t sleep with him that night or I’d be lugging around a diaper bag instead of a Coach patent-leather clutch. It makes me cringe to think he almost turned me into what I hate—a dim-witted woman, barefoot and pregnant, dependent on her man. That’s something I never want to be.

My mother taught me well. All men are jerks. Some are worse than others, but ultimately none of them truly know how to make a woman happy. Sure, things might start off promising. There’s always the honeymoon phase, but it doesn’t last. The problems of real life infiltrate every lovestruck cocoon and annoyances crop up. Pretty soon, trivial things turn into major problems. Compatibility is the stuff of legend. It doesn’t exist. Men get bored and check out while women get fat and keep busy. Eyes wander. Crankiness replaces conversation, and couples split up and move on to greener pastures. While people may say forever at the altar, nobody really means it. A woman needs to look out for her own best interests by putting herself first. It’s bad enough to have to endure the pain of a mutual separation, but it’s murder when the cord can’t be severed because of financial reasons. My mom told me to never put myself in a situation like that. I was always reminded that a happy woman is one who is able to support herself and can walk away from a man at any time. Her message was clear. Never get trapped. Never give in.

But she never said anything about revenge.

* * *

It’s time for them to face the music. No more waiting around.

“You’re sure they’re back?” I ask Ryan as he fiddles with the paperclip holder on my desk.

“Yeah. I was parked in that field all night. I saw them get out of Eric’s truck. Woo fucking hoo,” he responds a little too nonchalantly for my taste.

“And you’re positive no one noticed you?” That’s all I need is for him to get careless now at this stage of the game.

“Ha, I only wish they did,” he grumbles, slouching down even farther on the folding chair. “Man, I’d like to have another go around with Eric. Give that prick what he has coming to him.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” I warn him, my tone lethal. “You’re not to go anywhere near them, you hear me? You got off easy the last time when neither of them pressed charges. I don’t think they’ll be so generous this time around if they catch you on their property.”

“Oh, so it’s ‘their’ property now, is it?” Ryan smirks at me, spreading his legs apart even more. “I didn’t think giving up was your style.”

“Sit up straight. And pull your pants up while you’re at it. You look like a thug.” I glare at him. If he thinks he’s going to goad me into an argument, he’s sadly mistaken. He’s baiting me, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I know what’s really bothering him. “Was Will there too?”

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing a hand across his stubble.

“Anyone else?” I shuffle through some papers, pretending like I’m only half listening.

“His parents…that guy Jack and his wife…Ben and some chick.” He plays it off like it’s nothing, but he’s not that smooth. His voice definitely rises when he says Ben’s name.

“How did they react to seeing Will?” I ask while clicking through my emails. “I bet he made quite an impression.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan responds almost too quickly.

“I don’t know…I mean, he is charming and if I dare say easy on the eyes, especially up close.” I can’t resist smiling as he squirms uncomfortably on the tiny chair.

“Knock it off, Lauren.” He eyes me warily. Good, I have him on the defensive—just where I want him to be.

“If you say so, Ryan. I mean, he had both genders falling all over him in L.A. I even saw him with the sugar daddy he was shacking up with, but I think that’s over now. I bet he’s back on the market just looking for someone new.” I sit back in my leather chair as I deliver that particular dagger to his heart. Ryan thinks he’s so unaffectedly jaded. Please, he’s like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Why were you there all night? You didn’t have to stick around.”

“I had some things I needed to take care of,” he replies glumly.

“Like?” I challenge him, waiting to see if he’ll finally admit to what I’ve known all along.

“Their comings and goings, if they needed to rush Ivy to the hospital in the middle of the night. I thought you’d want to keep tabs on her.” He’s bluffing, and it kind of makes me feel sorry for him—almost.

“So were there any late-night movements?” I click my heels in anticipation on the plastic mat surrounding my desk, fully expecting him to lie to me.

“No,” he says sharply, his eyes trained on my face.

“Wow, none at all?” I coax, acting like I believe him.

“Nope.” His leg starts to twitch, giving him away.

“Well, I’m sorry you sat in your Jeep all night for nothing.” I glance at him like he’s someone to be pitied and he looks like he wants to leap over the desk and strangle me. Just the reaction I was hoping for. And he thought he was going to rile me up? Huh, think again.

“Yeah, me too,” he remarks, glaring back at me. But it’s too late. He should’ve guarded his secret more carefully if he didn’t want someone with half a brain to figure it out.

“I haven’t seen you hanging around with Ben lately. Did you two have a fight or something?” I tilt my head innocently, full of sisterly concern.

“You could say that,” he mutters, dodging the question.

“Oh yeah, I think Dad mentioned something about you and the swim team and having his brother fired. Boy, you really don’t fool around, do you? I guess you learned from the best.” I give him a wink, letting him off the hook for now.

But he knows I have leverage on him and I intend to use it if he gets out of line again. I just wish he didn’t always go for the jugular instead of stepping back and counting to ten. He’s too impulsive for his own good, and he’s going to pay for that someday. He just better not cross me in the meantime. I need to keep him on his toes and not get lulled into taking him for granted. We nearly got into a shitload of trouble when Will exposed that fake newspaper story we’d concocted all to protect his ass. He better not force me to go out on a limb for him again because I won’t. From now on, I’ll let Ryan clean up his own messes.

“Are we done?” he asks sullenly, getting to his feet.

“Oh yeah, we’re done.” My eyes pierce his, sending him a clear message of who’s in charge.

He shuffles out of my office, purposely dragging his feet. I close my eyes and sigh. What a loser.

But I have more important things to think about, like getting myself over to Eric’s house.

Chapter Fifteen

Eric

God, does it feel good to wake up in my own bed.

I stretch carefully, not wanting to disturb Ivy. I watch as the sunlight catches her hair that’s sprawled across my chest. I soak in these precious moments, listening to the rise and fall of her every breath. She’s back in my arms. Catastrophe diverted—for now.

Ever so slowly, I sit up and run my hand under the covers. The sheet is warm from her body, but I don’t feel anything amiss. Hopefully it means the bleeding has stopped. I’ll have to ask her for sure when she gets up, but so far, so good. Maybe we can begin to put this episode behind us and start focusing on the positive. We have a baby on the way. We should be excited, not scared to death.

As much as I don’t want her to wake up alone after such a traumatic night, I have to get going. The garden center needs me. I have a lot to catch up on. It’s bound to be a crazy day, and I can’t waste a minute of it. Groaning as my skin comes in contact with the chilly morning air, I hurriedly toss a wrinkled sweatshirt over my boxers and root through the closet for a pair of jeans. The laundry was backed up before I left. I should really throw a load in before I head out. I don’t want Ivy to have to worry about it. She needs to stay in bed.

I make my way softly down the steps with Shep at my heels. I open the door to let him out, surprised to see a thick frost covering the ground. I have to warm this place up. I glance over at the woodpile and there are only a few logs left. I’ll have to refill it before I leave. There’s just so much extra stuff I have to do now that Ivy’s on bed rest. I hope I can keep up with it all. I’ve lived here by myself for so long, but I really got used to her handling most of the household chores. It’s nice having a partner to balance things out. But I’ll just have to pick up the slack until she’s back on her feet.

Quietly, I arrange the wood in the fireplace before setting it ablaze. I gaze into the flames. I was planning on taking Ivy to the Hideaway Cliffs this weekend, but it doesn’t look like that’ll be happening anytime soon. Her condition is still too iffy to be carting her around the countryside. She could start bleeding again and we’d be miles away from the hospital. It’s better if we stay close to home. At least Doc’s in town if we need him.

I’m tempted to bring in the crib and place it at the bottom of the bed for Ivy to find when she gets up. But I really want to be there to catch the look on her face when she sees it. I can picture her examining every inch of it, pointing out all of the hand-carved details I already know by heart. Hearing her ‘ooh and aah’ over the crib would be like experiencing it for the first time through her eyes. Her reaction was the only thing I thought about as I spent hours and hours making it as perfect as I possibly could for our baby.

And I don’t want to upset her either. Things are still on the fence. Maybe it’s best to get through her first week home and make sure everything’s okay. If something does happen—God, I don’t even want to think about it—the crib will turn into a painful reminder of our loss and not the fulfillment of the promise it was meant to be. She’ll want to destroy it, just like I did, and try to erase the heartache from our lives. But I’m not giving up on this baby—not yet. And neither should she. It’s already proven to be a survivor. Our child is determined to come into this world, and I want to be there to welcome it when it does.

I hear Shep scratching at the door, begging to be let in from the cold. His insistence jolts me out of my head and back into reality. I better get a move on if I’m going to provide for this baby. I have a lot of ground I need to cover before it gets here in April, and I want to be ready. There’s no time to waste.

The last thing I want to think about is losing it all if Ivy doesn’t comply with Lauren’s demands. I had a lengthy conversation with Will on the plane when Ivy fell asleep during the last two hours of the flight. He knows what I’m expecting from him in terms of managing Lauren and keeping up with the workload. Ivy’s not to be overtaxed or overburdened in any way. He’s prepared to handle the bulk of the project while seeking Ivy’s creative input when he needs it. He briefly alluded that Lauren wanted to sensationalize Cassidy’s story but clammed up when I pressed him for details. He said it would be better if I had Ivy explain it to me, whatever that means. It doesn’t sound too promising. That’s a conversation I’d rather save for another day.