Page 36 of Silver Fox's Secret Triplets
"Ivy," I said, my voice more serious. "You feel different to me. Lucky, maybe. Since you've been back, I've started questioning everything I thought I wanted. Started imagining a different kind of future."
She turned to look at me, her expression guarded.
"I'm falling for you. Hard. I might very well love you already."
She shifted away from me, creating physical distance in the small space of the car. "Duncan?—"
"Don't." My voice was firmer than I'd intended. "Don't push me away. I know this is complicated. I know there are obstacles and consequences and a thousand reasons why it shouldn't work. But I'm not going to let you shut me out because you're scared."
"You don't understand?—"
"Then explain it to me. Help me understand what you're so afraid of."
We'd reached her driveway. I pulled in and put the car in park, but neither of us moved to get out. The silence felt painful between us, filled with tension and unspoken truths.
Finally, she turned to face me. "Thank you. For the coffee, for the ride, for listening. I needed that more than you know."
"Can I see you again? Outside of work, I mean. A real date."
She hesitated, her hand on the door handle. "Yes. But you might regret it."
"I doubt that."
She opened the door and stepped out, then leaned down to look at me through the open window. "Goodnight, Duncan."
I watched her walk up the path to the front door, her words echoing in my mind. You might regret it. What could she possibly mean? What was she hiding that could be worse than the complications we already faced?
She unlocked the door and disappeared inside without looking back. I sat in the driveway for several more minutes, staring at the house where she spent her evenings, wondering what secrets she was carrying and why she seemed so certain they would drive me away.
15
IVY
Istood in front of my bedroom mirror, holding two shirts against my chest. The navy blouse made my eyes look darker, more serious. The cream one softened my face, brought out the auburn in my hair. I told myself I wasn't dressing up for him. I told myself this was about feeling confident, about looking professional enough that he'd take me seriously when we talked about work boundaries and appropriate conduct between employer and employee.
I chose the cream shirt.
Downstairs, chaos reigned in the kitchen. Sammy had managed to get marinara sauce in his hair despite eating only half his spaghetti. Chrissy kept trying to feed Elena bits of garlic bread, which Elena rejected with increasing volume. I moved between them, wiping faces, refilling sippy cups, trying to get them fed before Lauren arrived.
"Mama, story?" Elena asked, tugging on my jeans.
"After pajamas, baby. Lauren's going to read to you tonight."
"Want Mama story."
My chest tightened. I crouched down to her level, smoothing her dark hair back from her forehead. "I know, sweetheart.Mama has to go out for a little while, but I'll be back before you wake up. I promise."
Lauren knocked on the front door at seven-thirty, saving me from Elena's disappointed expression. I pulled my friend aside in the hallway, lowering my voice.
"They've already eaten, but Sammy might ask for another snack around eight. He's been going through a growth spurt. Elena gets cranky if the nightlight isn't on, and Chrissy?—"
"Ivy." Lauren placed her hands on my shoulders. "I've got this. I've watched them before, remember?"
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just?—"
"Nervous about seeing him?"
I looked toward the kitchen where my father sat reading his newspaper, pretending not to listen to our conversation. "Dad," I called, "I have a work emergency. I'll be back late."
