Page 48 of By the Book

“But I also hate the idea of adding to your worry,” I concede. “How do you feel about going to my place tonight instead?”

Ivy

Whispers of fog are setting in around the classic gray shingled cottage, and I try to remember the last time I was here. It’s been years, certainly. Not since Tripp inherited it from his grandfather. I wonder how it’s changed since then, if it has changed. We pull into the sandy drive, the packed down grains sturdy under foot as we step out and cross over to the black stained door. All around, beachgrass sways rhythmically in the ocean breeze. It’s a cozy, coastal dream.

And when he leads me inside, I’m greeted by the most charming fisherman’s cottage I’ve ever seen. The wooden floors creak beneath us—clearly the original planks—causing a smile of appreciation to grace my cheeks. Then there is the exposed beam ceiling, as aged as the floors below.

The first room we step into is a comfortably sized living space, with a cobblestone fireplace in the corner and a galley kitchen off the back of it. The walls are painted a pale blue, similar to the color of the sea just out the window. Down onewall, driftwood shelves house framed photographs, a handful of books, and various fishing tackle. I can feel Tripp in each perfect detail.

“Is that?” I freeze, my eyes settling on a single photo. One that stands out from the various images of him and his grandfather holding up fish out on the water.

“You,” Tripp confirms, coming to a stop at my side.

The way the sunset is glowing, it’s impossible to tell that’s me by looking at the image. But I remember that day, it was Wes and Tripp’s high school graduation. My parents had taken us out to The Ocean Club up the coast, and the sky had put on a show with the sunset that night, as if joining in the celebration.

I stare at the image in awe as a hand gently brushes my hair back over my shoulder. Then his lips warm my temple. “It was a really nice sunset,” he murmurs against my skin. “And… it always made me smile, having proof that I got to share important moments with you.”

Turning, I drag my hands up his flannel shirt and pull on his collar. Tripp appeases me, leaning down and bringing his mouth to mine. There’s a hunger in his kiss, as if the mention of this picture has stirred years of longing in him. His arms wrap around me, hands pressing me to him, he consumes me. And I want to be consumed by Tripp Forester, entirely. Always.

A faint whimper escapes me as his fingers curl around the back of my head. “Ivy,” he moans in response, still pressed to my lips.

“Thank you for staying with me,” I reply, pulling back to look into his eyes. There’s so much warmth looking back at me, and I feel as if I’ll melt right here in his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sherlock.”

I want more, I want to feel closer still. And from the way his hand plays with the neckline of my sweater, brushing it to the side to expose more of my collarbone, my shoulder, I get thesense he feels the same. Dropping a kiss to my bare shoulder, he sends electricity rushing out along my skin. When I move to start unbuttoning his shirt, his hand catches my wrist. With a sigh, he says, “I want to take you on a date.”

Blinking back at him in surprise, it takes a moment for his words to sink in. “A date.”

“Yes. I want to take you out, the right way.”

I can read between the lines when he saysthe right way. Nothing more than this will happen between us tonight. He’s too chivalrous, and my heart swells at this fact about him.

“Okay,” I agree. “Yes, I would love that.”

“Okay.” He pulls my sweater back to its rightful place and nods. “Okay. Are you hungry? Tired? My bedroom is yours tonight. If you want to?—”

“I’m not kicking you out of your room, Tripp.” I hope he can read between the lines too. Even if he wants to do things the way he feels is right, I want to stay as close as possible to him. “And maybe we start with food.”

“Pizza?”

I nod in agreement, perching on the arm of the couch beside me as he moves to the fireplace. Pulling logs from the stack between the hearth and front door, he makes quick work to get a flame going. The only source of heat I want though is from being in his embrace.

He sits on the couch and withdraws his phone next. Raising it to his ear, I hear the greeting from the pizzeria through the line just as he reaches out and yanks me down onto his lap. With his arm wrapped around my waist, he draws swirls against my thigh as he orders. Maybe pizza in front of the fire can count as that date. It sounds like the perfect date to me. Anything with Tripp would be, though.

Chapter 20

Tripp

It only takes two slices of pizza and a warm cup of tea for Ivy to fall asleep tucked in under my arm. With the stress from her apartment being broken into, I expected the exhaustion that must have been waiting to claim her. But she gave in to it peacefully in my arms, as it should have been. I’m glad she talked some sense into me. I’m glad she’s here instead of at her parents’ house tonight.

Before us, the flames dance and cast out the only light in this room. I could stay like this all night, holding her while she sleeps. And I’m honestly relieved she fell asleep before I could send her to my room, forcing myself to stay alone on the couch, way too far away from her. With my nose near her hair, I inhale her jasmine vanilla scent, letting it flood my senses. It has an instant calming effect. Tiling my head back, I close my eyes and allow myself to enjoy this moment.

Then she stirs.

Ivy shifts, her head sliding from my chest and coming to rest on my lap instead. She settles into the couch, laying on her side with my leg as her pillow. It’s sweet torture, the intimate way her breath sends warmth through my jeans and into my thigh. I adjust the blanket that slipped off her from the movement andmake sure she’s fully covered. Then I reach for my laptop resting on the coffee table and balance it on my other leg. Who says I can’t stay with her and get started on digging up dirt at the same time?

“She doesn’t leave your sight,” I instruct the Taylor family. They stare back at me in confusion, still wearing their sleepwear from the night before. The confusion is fair. The sun has hardly risen, and I’ve just showed up at their house with Ivy—the first thing worthy of raising a red flag. And then before they could question our presence, I explained that the vandal had escalated and gave them orders to essentially babysit the grown women at my side.

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