“Earth to Luca,” Liam teases, his voice cutting through the fog and my swirling thoughts.
“Let him spiral,” Miles says with a grin. “Maybe he’ll finally admit he has feelings for his wife.”
I shoot him a glare, but he only raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment. The teasing hits too close to home, and I push the thought away, focusing on the project in front of me.
“It doesn’t matter. She needs a studio, and I’m more than capable of providing one.” I force the words out with more confidence than I feel.
But Cade isn’t done. He crosses his arms, his expression becoming more serious. “If you’re sure…” he says, his voice trailing off. I can see the hesitation, the way he wants to say more, but he’s holding back.
“Ok, this looks good,” Miles interrupts, clearly eager to move things along. “But how are you going to pull it off without her knowing?”
It’s a valid question. Because there’s no way Ivy would let me build her a studio without putting up some kind of protest. She may have asked for a desk, but this is above and beyond her request. She’s fiercely independent, always trying to make things work on her own. Hell, she’s already tried to slip me money for rent more than once. I can already picture the argument — her soft refusal, the insistence that it’s too much.
“We could send the women to Nashville for the weekend,” Dean suggests, leaning on the bar with a thoughtful expression. “We’ll keep Ry and Sofia with us and call it a getaway. I know Cara has been dying for some girl time. Maybe Mags can come down.”
The moment the words are out there, Miles winces, and Cade and I share a knowing look. The mention of Maggie’s name seems to hang in the air longer than it should, the tension almost palpable. Miles' reaction is almost imperceptible, but it's there, the flicker of discomfort that tells me there’s history there, whether Miles is ready to talk about it or not. And given how tightly Miles keeps his emotions locked up, it’s probably better if we don’t push too hard.
“It might be a hard sell to get Paige to leave Sofia, but I’ll try,” Cade says.
“Hey Miles,” I say, attempting to divert the conversation and break the uncomfortable silence that’s settled in. “Can you get in touch with Mags? Tell her the plan and ask if she can meet up with them in Nashville?”
For a split second, Miles looks like he wants to murder me, the muscles in his neck tightening as if he’s holding back. He’s silent for a moment, and I wonder if he’s going to refuse outright, or just throw the phone in my face and walk out. But then, after what feels like an eternity of tension, he straightens his spine and pulls out his phone, his fingers moving withmechanical precision as he starts to type. I watch as he hits send, then stares at the screen, waiting for a reply. It doesn’t take long.
Miles: Hey Wildcat, the guys need a favor.
Mags: I thought I told you to stop calling me that.
Mags: Actually, I thought I told you to stop contacting me at all.
Miles lets out a short, frustrated breath and starts typing again, clearly trying to keep things civil despite his agitation.
Miles: Doesn’t ring a bell. Anyway, Luca is planning a surprise for Ivy, but we need to send all of the women away for a weekend. Can you make that happen?
Mags: I’ll see what I can do. Now make like a ghost and disappear.
Miles: Miss you, too. ??
Mags:??
Miles pockets his phone without a word, his face still locked in that unreadable expression, but I can see the edges of a grin playing at his lips.
“Is that a 'yes'?” Cade asks, breaking the silence, the corner of his mouth curling up.
Miles shrugs. "It’s as close as we’re gonna get." He shoots me a pointed look. "If anything goes wrong, you’re taking the blame."
I nod, trying not to look too smug. "Understood."
The tension in the room seems to ease just a little, but I know this is only the beginning. Maggie might’ve agreed to help, but the real test will be getting the women out of town without suspicion — and somehow making sure Ivy doesn't catch on.
Ivy
Windows down, and music blasting, the crisp autumn air surrounds us as Cara navigates the winding road toward Nashville. The vibrant colors of fall blur as we speed past the changing landscape. Paige is playing DJ in the front seat, a playlist of road trip classics at our fingertips, while I lounge in the back, my focus drifting between the passing scenery and a romance book I’m half-heartedly reading. The hum of the engine and occasional laughter fills the car, creating an almost cozy atmosphere, a stark contrast to the chaos we left behind in Oak Ridge. I don’t know who decided it was a good idea to leave the men to their own devices, with our children, no less.
“I still think there’s something fishy going on,” Paige says, elbow firmly planted on the middle console as she rests her cheek on her hand.
“What could Cade possibly do this time?” Cara asks. “He already planned an entire weddingandsecretly built you a library.”
“That’s true,” she concedes. “Maybe it’s not Cade. Oh my god! What if Dean is planning a proposal?!”