Or hell, maybe I’ll just change at the office.
My mind races as I pull on a pair of jeans. I could sneak out, but that will make Drew more suspicious. Plus, Ivy has ears like a hawk, so I’m sure she’ll hear me. Knowing her, she’ll throw herself on my hood as I try to speed down the driveway.
Wouldn’t that have the neighbors talking?
I grab my phone, still unprepared for whatever’s about to come.
Maybe I’ll tell them I have an early meeting, grab a to-go coffee, and leave.
Although I’m fairly certain Ivy has my calendar memorized. I have no idea how she has access to it, considering she doesn’t work for me.
When I step into the kitchen, Drew is seated at the table. He looks… rattled. There’s a glass of water in front of him, and his phone sits beside it like it might ring again at any second.
Ivy stands at the stove. Barefoot, calm, and in control.
She glances over her shoulder when she hears me, smiling like this is exactly how she expected the morning to unfold.
“Mornin’,” I say, trying to appear normal.
Drew nods stiffly, staring at me like he’s reconsidering every decision that led him here.
Same, bro. Same.
Ivy’s calm gaze meets mine. “Good morning. I’m making your favorite breakfast.” She smiles before turning back to the pan, flipping a pancake with practiced ease.
Oh, God. This is worse than I thought.
She’s too calm. Too controlled. Like this was an inevitable part of her plan.
And now, she has her hooks in me.
She’s probably already picked out the wedding venue.
“Great,” I give her a tense smile, sliding into the chair across from Drew like I’m about to be executed.
My brother watches the exchange like he’s witnessing a negotiation where all the rules have been removed.
She sets a mug of coffee in front of me, the handle turned just the way I like it. I pick it up without thinking and take a sip.
Perfect.
“I used the new coffee machine,” she says. “How is it?”
“Delicious.” I take another sip, hoping it engulfs me in flames. Death seems like the only possible escape right now.
She beams, then heads back to the stove. A moment later, she returns with a plate she slides onto the table—pancakes stacked neatly, bacon arranged beside them. She sets mine down first. Then Drew’s.
“Eat up,” she tells me. “You have meetings this morning. And if you don’t eat now, you’ll forget.” She heads to the cabinet, grabs the syrup, and sets it on the table. “And if you skip lunch, you get that vein in your forehead,” she adds. “It’s unattractive.” She pats my shoulder. “I say this with love.”
I nearly choke on my bite of food when she says the word “love.” But I know it’s useless to argue.
Plus, if I piss her off, she might tell Drew what happened last night. And I’ll never live that down.
Drew clears his throat. “So. Uh. You’re… here a lot.” He looks like he’s about to add “uninvited” until I shoot him a look.
Ivy hums. “Every day.”
He looks at me. I lift a shoulder, helpless to do anything to stop this madness.
