Page 62 of Playing for Keeps
Her cheeks flush a soft pink. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well too.” Her gaze drops to my sleeve. “Need a hand with that?”
Before I can answer, she’s stepping closer, taking my wrist in her hands. She fastens the cufflink with careful fingers, and we’re suddenly too close for me to think straight. Her eyes stay on mine, and just like that, everything fades away, leaving only us.
Watching her standing in my kitchen like she belongs here, it hits me. Pretending tonight isn’t going to be easy, despite how much I want it. Because nothing about Ivy feels pretend. It feels like I’m playing with fire.
Ivy
My stomach twists with nerves as the car carrying Wyatt and me pulls up outside the Fairmont Hotel. As much as I’ve looked forward to this weekend, I’ll be relieved when tonight’s dinner, or more specifically, the media attention that comes with it, is behind us. Being in the spotlight has never been in my comfort zone.
“Ready,” Wyatt asks as the car door is opened.
I drag in a breath. “Ready.”
He smiles. “Just follow my lead. You got this, okay?”
I nod, hoping he’s right and I don’t make a fool of myself, or worse, him. The last thing I want to do is embarrass him.
He starts to get out of the car, and I quickly reach for his arm. He turns to look at me, concern flickering in his eyes.
“Everything all right?” he asks.
“Just… tell me if I say or do something that embarrasses you, okay? I have no idea what I’m doing.”
He frowns. “Embarrass me? Why would you think you’d embarrass me?”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I look down. I know exactly why. I don’t belong here with him, despite what he says. I’m just a small-town girl who’s in way over her head. “I don’t know,” I lie. “Ash would be handling this so much better than I am.”
He reaches for my hand. “I’m glad it’s you here with me, Ivy. I wouldn’t want it any other way. You’re not going to embarrass me. Everyone is going to want to know who the beautiful woman on my arm is. You’re going to steal the show.”
My eyes widen. “I doubt that,” I scoff.
He smiles warmly. “You have no idea, do you?”
I arch a brow. “No idea about what?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later. Come on. We need to go.”
He squeezes my hand before letting go and climbing out of the car. I have no clue what he’s talking about, and I don’t have time to dwell on it as Wyatt opens my door and offers me his hand. Placing mine in his, I let him help me from the car. Photographers are already snapping photos when we step out, and Wyatt keeps a firm hold on my hand as he leads me toward them.
We pause, letting a few of them take pictures. The sound of clicking shutters fills the silence.
“Who are you wearing, Ivy?” someone calls out from the crowd.
I feel Wyatt squeeze my hand, grounding me.
“My dress is from a little boutique in Hope Creek,” I answer.
“Hope Creek?” another voice chimes in. “Isn’t that your hometown, Wyatt? Do you two know each other?”
Wyatt nods. “Ivy and I grew up there. We’ve known each other a long time.”
“Are you two together?” someone shouts.
Wyatt chuckles, then lets go of my hand just long enough to slide his arm around my waist, pulling me close. “Yeah, we’re together. It’s new, but it’s going really well.”
“So, Ivy didn’t want you having dinner with someone else, huh?” someone teases, prompting a ripple of laughter through the crowd.
Wyatt looks down at me, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Actually, that was my idea. I want to spend every moment I can with Ivy.” Then he glances back at the photographers with a grin. “Can you blame me?”
