Page 18 of By the Book

Stevie moves to open the door, pulling Tripp from whatever was just passing through his mind. “But,” he continues, “I’m not one to take away from you having support from your friends. Why don’t you three stay over tonight and help our girl?”

Our girl. Poppy’s words feel so different coming from his lips. Crossing the room, Tripp places his hands on my shoulders. “Lock the door behind me and call if you need anything. I’ll be back in the morning to take you to the shop.”

Tucking a loose curl behind my ear, he gives me a quick hug and disappears out the door.

“Oh my god,” Wren repeats from behind me. I have no words, but hers are doing a good job of summing up how I feel about his affectionate behavior tonight.

Chapter 8

Ivy

My living room has been transformed. The coffee table pushed aside, the floor buried under layers of blankets and pillows with not an inch of ground to be seen. Across the bench on the bay window, three different types of pizza are scattered amongst a bowl of popcorn and M&Ms, a pack of Oreos, and white cheddar cheese puffs.

They had jumped back into questions after Tripp left, but I just wanted a break from everything. My friends had rallied to meet my needs, immediately deciding which of our favorite Nora Ephron movies would be best for tonight.

“Which one has the local sheriff swooping in to save the day for the heroine any chance he can?” Wren asks with a smirk.

“Yeah, can we please just talk about Tripp? That doesn’t count as talking about what happened with the shop, right?” Stevie pipes in.

“What about him?” I ask, trying to ignore the way my insides flutter at the mention of his name.

“For starters, tonight he pretty much opened the door for anything you want to do with him.”

I roll my eyes at Wren. “How?”

“Ivy knows I’d doanythingfor her,” Poppy mimics in her deepest tenor. “I mean, I swooned at that.”

“Same.”

“Oh, same.”

I bite my lip, not sure if I want to share his reaction at the store. The last thing they need is more fuel. And yet, I’m giddy to tell them.

“Actually, when he arrived on the scene, he was…sexy,” I say, bringing my hand up to touch my face where he had caressed it. The three of them lean forward with wide eyes.

“What did he do?”

I recount for them how Tripp had scooped me up and held me. How he had been gentle, intimate even, running his thumb along my chin and holding me close. Heat settles in me as I imagine it all again.

“Ivy!” Poppy grabs my arm eagerly. “He loves you!”

“Agreed,” Wren nods.

I remember why I didn’t want to tell them. The hope they stir in me is downright dangerous. But I find myself smiling, nonetheless.

“So yesterday,” I start, walking from the kitchen. Coffee cup in one hand, I twist the perpetrator’s keys in the other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Wren asks from her perch by the window.

“Yes. I want to talk about how I’m going to solve this.”

I had laid awake thinking about it long after my friends all drifted off to sleep last night. The biggest piece of evidence is at my fingertips, I finally have an opportunity to not run away fromsomething. I can figure this out, but my friends don’t seem as excited by the idea as I am.

“You’re going to solve this?” Poppy repeats, a crease in her brow.

I open my hand to reveal the keys, dangling them from my finger. “I am, because I have these.”

“And what are those?” Stevie leans forward and squints at the evidence.

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