Page 91 of The Dom with the Clever Tongue

“Okay.” Cross nodded. “Nothing wrong with that, Mal. Sometimes it happens. My question would be, do they love you back?”

“That would be the problem. They’re bi. Both of them. And there I was thinking for ages that Scarlet was lesbian and I had no chance, but I found out she’s bi, and for a while there I thought maybe she was attracted to me.”

“So you don’t know if they love you back? You got to ask, man. No point in beating around the bush.” He snorted and added, “Or bushes.”

“Crude.”

Cross just grunted and waited him out.

“You want me to ask? It’s a little late for that. I’ve pretty much stopped seeing them. Said I was going back to Ivy. And Ivy does want me back. I can’t ignore her.” He spread his hands. “She wants me for sure. Reece and Scarlet, I think I’m fuckingup their relationship. I’m the first man Scarlet has even kissed...”Let alone given a BJ to.“And things have gotten weird with Reece and I think she hates me.”

The man simply studied him for a while. He crossed his legs at the ankle. He scratched at something on the leather of his boots then he finally looked up. “Okay. Ivy is bad for you. You should have had that tattooed somewhere. Ivy equals B-A-D. I don’t have a clue how you can have forgotten that. Maybe it’s like the way women forget the pain of childbirth. I watched you shut down for months. Do not go back to her.”

Malachi raised his eyebrows.

“Two. Go talk to these girls. You’re a fucking Dom. Communicate.” He uncrossed his legs. “Got that?”

“Could you be a little more clear? Perhaps interpretive dance would help.” He smiled, but it was pained. “I appreciate your bluntness, as always. Thanks.”

Though Cross didn’t push, it was obvious he saw through his façade. For once his friend hadn’t convinced him. He’d forgotten Cross had disliked Ivy ever since she walked away from him. The prejudice was warping his advice.

Seemed like he’d achieved zero talking to Cross. For once. Shit.

He sat for an hour thinking things over, with Jake and Gemma running things and letting him think. They were wonderful people and obviously saw he needed some time to sort something out.

He’d gone to Cross knowing his friend would recommend trying to fix things with the girls. It was the answer he wanted, but he’d already seen the signs, and knew the facts. The girls didn’t need him.

Scarlet would be getting married soon. Not only would him waltzing back in upset that part of their future, it stood a good chance of tipping their relationship balance off course. He didn’t want to be the bastard that made their perfect little world crumble.

He’d told Scarlet at the very beginning that he wasn’t going to interfere. He should deal with his own issues anyway. He took out the phone and texted Ivy. If he was busy maybe he could stick to fucking up his own life.

Like to move in and try again?

Her reply came within a few minutes:Yes!

Friday afternoon good for you?

He told her where to find the key, and said goodbye.

Friday was tomorrow.

This was supposed to be a good, positive thing to do. Moving onward and upward.

This was the woman he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Then why was he now dreading her moving in with him? If she wasn’t what he wanted anymore, jumping in with both feet had probably been a mistake.

When he got home the next afternoon, to his surprise, there was Ivy, sitting on his doorstep with her suitcases next to the steps. He slammed the car door, strode over to her and stopped.

“Why are you still outside, Ivy?”

Her forlorn look made him relax his puzzled interrogator mode. He slid onto the step beside her, and clasped his hands between his knees. The redness around her eyes warned of oncoming tears.

“Hey.” Gently, he raised her chin. “What’s up?”

She shook loose, and grimaced. “It’s my fault, Malachi. I can’t go in your house without saying this. You’re going to hate me.”

“I am? You’d be surprised. I don’t even hate the Sex Zombies and they go all out drumming at midnight some weekends. Try me.”

Her lip quivered. She ducked her head, sniffling. “Fuck. I meant this to be so good, but I can’t stand myself. I lied to you. I wrote that letter.” She glanced up at him for a second. “You know which one I mean?”

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