Page 58 of By the Book

“Details, please,” Stevie urges, sinking down into one of the floral armchairs. Tomorrow is the re-opening of my store and they’ve come to help me get all my finishing touches together. Having a cup of tea, here with my girls, it feels as it did before. Comforting, inviting, and safe once more.

With Stevie’s prompting, I dive into the swoon worthy moments. From Tripp’s passionate words that led to me kissing him outside my apartment, to the fact that he rented out the whole drive-in for our date, I feel as if I’m on cloud nine just thinking about it all.

“And then at the end of the night, he handed me a key and drove me back to my apartment. Somewhere between working on the case and going to talk to my dad, he changed my locks and put my place back together.”

My heart soars as I think back to the moment when I opened my front door and was greeted by the pristine sight. Yes, some things were broken and needed replaced, but those items were cleared out and everything else was back in its rightful place. Being at a loss for words is not a sensation with which I’m accustomed. Yet, he had managed to render my mind useless with the gesture.

“We always said that man’s attention to detail was impeccable,” Wren smiles, her teacup poised at her lips.

“He even asked if I had a dream man I was looking for, like Sally Owens.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that he pretty much declared his love for you? Wicked smooth Tripp,” Poppy says with approval. “Bonus points for it being with a witchy movie.”

“Did you tell him thathewas the dream man?” Wren asks.

“I may have hinted at it. I’ve been surprisingly brave lately.”

“You being brave isn’t surprising,” Poppy offers through a frown, as if she can’t understand my point.

“Besides, it’s a good thing that you aren’t trying to hold back with him anymore,” Stevie beams. “You should tell him for real, not hints. And then you two can just be in love.”

Wren and Poppy exchange a glance behind her. I smirk, knowing what the look is about. We’ve always been convinced that Stevie hasn’t seen her own potential love right in front of her. That she could use this exact advice.

But I could too. Because last night confirmed something I’ve known for some time. Something that’s been tucked away in a quiet corner of my heart.

Tripp is the answer to my own true love spell, of sorts, pieced together by the most romantic of written words I’ve devoured over time.

9 years ago

Ivy

The cake has been cut, and as I watch the slices of strawberry confetti get handed out, I know this is my moment to slip away. The doors to the patio are across the ballroom, which gives so many people the opportunity to stop me and wish me a happy sweet sixteen. But I am determined. Keeping my head down, I weave between the many black aproned servers, dodging the wide trays they balance with my birthday cake atop. There are too many people in here, and I’m obligated to give this crowd my attention tonight, even though most are my parents’ guests.

I reach for the ornate handle and slip outside, immediately pointing my face to the starry sky and inhaling the crisp night air. I made it, no members of my father’s firm or my mother’s philanthropy league noticed my disappearing act. Crossing the patio, I reach the stone wall at the far side, sitting just on the edge of the lantern lights.

From here, the hydrangeas block me from the party’s view. But the sound of footsteps tells me that I did not successfully hide after all. I turn, waiting to see who it is that comes around the shrubbery. My mother, more than likely, wondering why I didn’t seem excited to blow out the candles in front of everyone. She means well, and I should have just told her that this isn’twhat I wanted. But there was an expectation to celebrate with their associates, and I’m nothing if not the good daughter.

“Happy birthday, Ivy.”

My heart tumbles over itself at the low, inviting voice that precedes none other than Tripp coming around the corner. It’s unfair how handsome he is, I’m never quite sure what to do with myself when he’s around. Especially when he takes a seat on the wall beside me.

“You came.” My voice is barely louder than a whisper. “I figured you’d be busy at the sheriff academy, cadet.”

“I had to bring you your present.” He smiles, handing over an elegant pink box. La Petite Confiserie is scrawled across the top in gold foil lettering. My favorite chocolates.

“Where do you get these?”

Tripp only smiles in response, watching me open the box and pop a tiny dark chocolate square in my mouth. I bat my eyes at him as I savor the decadent treat, one I have no clue how to find. My first time having them, my father had bought them for client gifts at Christmas and I snatched up a box from under the tree one night. Tripp caught me red handed but kept my secret. And since then, he’s been my only source for the sweet treats.

“That’s not really your present though. This is.” He hands me a rectangular package, wrapped in beautiful olive and gold paper.

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything. Let alone two?—”

“Open it, Ivy. Please.”

I do as he asks, revealing a gorgeous leather-bound edition of Pride and Prejudice with gilded edges. “Tripp,” I breathe, turning it over in my hands gently. “How did you…?”

“You wanted to start a special edition collection, right?”

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