Page 150 of Playing for Keeps
“She’s in police custody. She met with Cleo, and then we trailed her back to her place. We found laptops, burner phones, and a handful of fake passports. We got her, Wyatt. There’s enough evidence to link her to five or six extortion cases all over the U.S., yours included.”
His words register, but it’s like they’re filtering in through a haze. My mind can’t quite catch up with what he’s just said.
It’s over.
After everything this week; the sleepless nights, the reporters camped out, and the overwhelming fear of what might happen next, it’s really over.
We can finally put a statement out. Clear Ivy’s name. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from the minute this circus started, and now, thanks to Nash, I can.
“Thank you, Nash,” Ivy says, and I look across at her, silent tears tracking down her cheeks.
“Yeah, thanks, man. Even though saying thank you doesn’t seem enough,” I tell him, squeezing Ivy’s hand.
“I’m just glad we got her,” Nash says. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
He ends the call, and I pull the car over, killing the engine. We’re in my truck, and Ivy unbuckles her seat belt, climbs across the center console, and straddles my lap. I wrap my arms around her and hold her while she cries.
Even though it kills me, I let her cry for a couple of minutes, holding her tightly against my chest. When her tears subside, I gently squeeze her waist, and she lifts her head. I brush a piece of hair off her damp cheek, tucking it behind her ear.
“Can we go home?” she asks quietly.
I smile. “Of course.”
She slides back into her seat and buckles her seatbelt, glancing over when I don’t start the engine.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
I look at her, my heart thudding in my chest. “You’re going to move into the Willow Street place with me, right? I don’t want it to be mine. I want it to be ours.”
Her eyes widen. “Wait… what?”
I reach across the console and take her hand. “When I walked through that house, Ivy, all I could see was you. You in the kitchen making pancakes, you curled up in the living room watching movies, you out back by the pool with a drink in your hand.” I smile. “You decorating the giant Christmas tree in the entryway, bossing me around with tinsel and fairy lights.”
She laughs, and the sound wraps around me.
“I know my schedule’s crazy, and I won’t always be home. But when I am, I want you there. I want a life with you, Ivy. And someday, I want that house filled with little versions of you running around.”
She giggles. “Only if we get a couple of little Wyatts in the mix too.”
I grin. “So… is that a yes?”
Without a word, she unclips her seatbelt and climbs across the center console, settling into my lap again. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I feel her smile against my cheek.
“It’s a yes. I love you, Wyatt. I want all of it. You, the house, the future, everything.” She pauses, her tone softening. “But I have one condition.”
“Name it,” I say instantly. “Whatever you want.”
“I’m selling my house. Whatever I make from that goes toward the Willow Street place. Maybe it’s not much, but I want to contribute. I want this to be ours too, but in every way.”
I start to protest, but she shakes her head firmly. “That part’s non-negotiable.”
I press a kiss to her temple, holding her tightly. “Deal.”
“We’re really doing this?” she asks.
I nod. “We’re really doing this, baby. And I can’t wait.”
Holding her in my arms, something shifts, like the chaos finally quiets. Ivy’s been part of my life for as long as I can remember. Being Ash’s best friend, she was always around. Always a constant, but I never imaginedthis.
