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“In a minute,” Dahlia said coolly. “Come in.”
Shit, Brooks hadn’t had to deal with family approval—or disapproval—in a long time. But he was a grown ass man that could handle himself in the line of fire, during a high-speed chase, and in the academy with trainers screaming in his face.
He could handle a little slip of a woman.
Maybe.
Until Ivy came bouncing into the room looking fresh and excited to see him, her hair pulled back from her face, the rest of it swishing around her shoulders.
What the fuck was he doing here? It seemed he was asking himself questions like this for months since he met Ivy.
Yet here he was with a box in his hand.
“Happy birthday,” he said to her, pushing the box forward. It’s not like he went all out. This was only their third date. They hadn’t even had sex since before Christmas.
They weren’t tonight either no matter how much his body wanted to pick her up and toss her over his shoulder in those black jeans, teal sweater and tiny black ankle boots. A thicker heel this time. Something sturdier to navigate the snow on the ground.
He’d hoped it’d start late so he didn’t have to cancel again. Thankfully that wish came about. Or not enough snow on the ground for him to worry about in a few hours. Not in his truck at least.
“Thank you,” she said. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know,” he said. “Call it a peace offering for canceling the last two times.”
Dahlia lifted her eyebrow at him. She was going to be a tough nut to crack. When he saw Dahlia look at Ivy, then Ivy’s smile stayed in place, he wondered what might be going on.
“I understand,” Ivy said. “It’s your job and that has to come first. But you’ve kept me informed and we’ve continued to communicate.”
It sounded rehearsed to him, but who was he to say? It’s not like he knew her as well as he should. Or might. Who the hell knew about anything at this point?
“It happens,” he said. “Hopefully we can get through dinner without it tonight.”
“Maybe the bad weather will keep criminals at home,” Ivy said. “Can I open this?”
“Yeah,” he said.
She took the paper off of it that he’d gone to the store to buy. It’s not like he had any wrapping paper in this house. He almost got a little bag to put it in but then couldn’t even find one that said Happy Birthday on it. The only one that was the right size had hearts. Nope, not going there.
He settled on the floral paper thinking she might appreciate it.
“It’s pretty paper,” she said.
Guess he did well with one thing. “It’s what they had,” he said.
Dahlia snorted. He should get points for even trying, but he wouldn’t say that.
“Oh my God,” Ivy squealed. “It’s ice cream-flavored chocolates. I’ve never seen these.”
“Neither have I,” he said. He wouldn’t tell her that it’d taken him over an hour to find the right thing online. In his mind he had to get her something for her birthday but didn’t want to go overboard. Six days ago he’d seen these, spent the fifty bucks on a dozen of truffles and then winced when he had to pay another twenty in shipping to get it here in three days. Otherwise it would have been a week.
It wasn’t the money as much as he wasn’t a frivolous person and seventy dollars for twelve pieces of chocolate sure the hell felt it.
But the way Ivy’s eyes lit up as she turned the box over and was looking at the flavors, then showed it to Dahlia had made it worth it.
“They’ve got strawberries and cream, Dahlia,” Ivy said. “I’ll let you have that one. It’s your favorite. But the rest are mine.”
She was hugging the box to her chest, then walked over and leaned up on her toes to kiss him on the lips. “You like them?” he asked, feeling more unsure over a silly box of chocolate than he might have with anything else he could remember in his life.
“I love them,” she said. “It was very thoughtful of you to do this.” She put them on their little table off the kitchen. “Dahlia, you can’t open them until I get home.”
