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Pushing past her toward the window, he used the second towel to wrap his arm. With a hard whack, his padded elbow broke one of the glass panes. Brushing away the loose shards of glass, Blake reached through the gap to unlock the door.

“Ta-da!” he said as it swung open wide and her bikini top fell to the floor.

Ivy hobbled around him to the door and stepped inside. Turning immediately once she crossed the threshold, she bent over and picked up her suit top. She looked at him. “Thanks,” she said.

Then she closed the door in his face.

Chapter 3

What the hell was she doing here? How had this happened? Ivy honestly had no clue.

It was eight o’clock on Saturday night. A night Ivy fully intended to spend in her cabin working. After her run-in with Blake, she had no interest in running into anyone else in town. And yet here she was, sitting in Pepper’s SUV outside Woody’s Bar. Pepper was glaring angrily at her through the windshield, her arms crossed over her chest, irritated because Ivy had taken her keys, locked her out of her own car, and refused to go inside.

It was a surreal development for a night that should’ve been anything but noteworthy.

After Blake left, Ivy had watched the road like a hawk all evening, waiting for the parade of people Blake had promised, but no one came, thankfully. At least until suppertime, when a little red SUV she didn’t recognize pulled up outside.

It was Pepper, her first official visitor, and fortunately one she didn’t mind.

“We’re going out!” Pepper had announced. Ivy had argued with her. She needed to work. She didn’t want to go out. She wasn’t ready to face the people in town sober, much less drunk. Excuse after excuse fell from her lips, but Pepper was a force of nature—a whirlwind who couldn’t be reasoned with. It also helped that she played to Ivy’s weaknesses.

Nearly every day of the past few years, Ivy had been plopped into a chair while a team of highly qualified hairstylists and makeup artists worked their magic. Ivy just had to sit there, pucker as needed, close her eyes when she was told to, and in an hour or so, she was the Ivy Huds

on her fans would see on posters, on album covers, and in music videos.

So when Pepper took her hand and led her over to a chair in the kitchen, she blindly followed. When the makeup case and the curling iron came out, she sat there as she was trained. Pepper distracted her with idle conversation as she worked feverishly on hair and makeup. Before she knew it, Ivy was dressed for a night on the town and sitting in Pepper’s car staring up at the neon bar sign.

The moment they pulled into the Woody’s parking lot, Ivy’d snapped out of her fog and come to her senses. Pepper was dangerous. She looked sweet and perky with those red curls and bright eyes, but it was a ruse. And from the evil glare she was levying on Ivy at the moment, it was better that she was on the sidewalk and Ivy was safely locked in her car.

“Ivy Grace Hudson, you get out of my car this instant!” Pepper stomped her foot, as though that would make any difference.

Ivy shook her head. “You tricked me!” she shouted through the windshield.

“Yes, I’m so horrible,” Pepper agreed. “I dressed you up and lured you out to a bar to have some fun. You shouldn’t ever speak to me again.”

Ivy took a deep breath and scanned the parking lot, although she didn’t know why. It wasn’t as though she knew what kind of car or truck Blake drove. There was no way to tell if he was here. All she knew was that people going into Woody’s kept looking at her and whispering. There was no way she was going inside that bar.

A loud thump on the window startled her up out of her seat. She turned to find Grant Chamberlain, one of Blake’s younger brothers, peering in at her. She’d heard that Grant was a local fireman now, and if rumors held true, he was even worse than Blake where monogamy was concerned. Perhaps it did run in the family.

“Hey, Ivy!” he shouted through the glass. Grant had the same dark, handsome looks and strong build of his brother, but he was a little leaner with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. His gaze ran over her body, and then a smile curled his lips. “What? No bikini tonight? I heard you have a really nice one. At least, half of one!”

Ivy felt the red flames of embarrassment lick at her cheeks. Blake had told him. He’d jumped at his first chance to pay her back and embarrass her. Grant and his date both laughed before going into the bar.

She shook her head and turned to look at Pepper. She definitely wasn’t going to get out of the car now. “Take me home!” she shouted. “Or I’ll drive myself!”

Pepper didn’t budge. “If you do, I’ll call the sheriff. Do you really want to run into another of the Chamberlain boys tonight? I’m sure Sheriff Todd will be glad to send Simon over to arrest you. He’s fresh from the police academy and super eager to please.”

Chamberlains, Chamberlains everywhere. A girl couldn’t buy a cake, set a fire, or roll through a stop sign without that damned family in her business. There were just too many of them. Blake was the oldest of six, and leaving Rosewood behind, Ivy hadn’t kept up with what all the others grew up to be. One could own the bar, for all she knew.

Ivy was about to lob another threat at Pepper when her red head turned to watch a truck pull into the parking lot. Pepper planted her hands on her hips and shook her head in dismay before gesturing in that direction. “Too late,” she said. “Here’s another one!”

Ivy sat forward to catch a glimpse of the truck. It was a dark blue Ford F-250 Platinum with shiny chrome details. The Rolls-Royce of the South. And behind the wheel . . . Blake.

Now she had to go inside. She couldn’t let him see her hiding from him. The alternative was to crawl onto the floorboard of the car and hope he didn’t see her. She eyed the dirty floor mats and frowned. She could make out bits of grass, gravel, a large oil stain, a dried-up French fry, and something else she couldn’t identify on them. She might just be wearing jeans, but these were custom-made Earnest Sewn jeans. At a grand a pair, she wasn’t about to ruin them with whatever was on that carpet.

Ivy glanced at the truck again and sighed. “Don’t be a chickenshit!” she told herself, then opened the car door.

Before the heels of her boots hit the gravel, Pepper snatched the car keys out of her hands. “Naughty,” she scolded, slipping them safely into her purse. “Let’s get inside before he does.”


Tags: Andrea Laurence Rosewood Romance