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She worked with Marcy Jenkins on the estate sale of her grandparents’ things and decided not to keep anything. Tucked behind a big frame and hung in the guest room of my place were the height marks cut from the wall. She’d turned that space into her office, and I found her staring at those pieces often.
On one of those occasions, I walked into the office and eased my hands over her shoulders, digging my thumbs into the tense muscles of her neck. She glanced up with a grateful smile. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“That’s because our guard cat sucks,” I told her, leaning down to sneak a kiss from her upturned lips. Neville stretched out on the bed she’d added into the corner of the room that got the most sun. “Had to get something from the shop and decided to say hi.”
She sighed happily when I pulled back. “Do you have to go back?”
I glanced at the clock. “Yeah, but I have a little time.”
Ivy turned, slowly uncrossing her legs with a sly grin. “Define a little time?”
Bracing my arms on the chair where she sat, I took her mouth in another slow, tongue-brushing kiss. “Not long enough, duchess,” I said against her lips and then kissed her again.
She pouted, and I stood with a laugh.
“Italian for dinner tonight?” she asked.
My eyebrows arched. “You finally going to break in my kitchen?”
“Don’t be absurd. I’m ordering takeout, which you will be picking up on your way home.”
I laughed, ducking down for one more kiss. “Perfect. I should be done around five. Foundation got poured today, so I want to be there just in case.”
Our new build was underway, managed on the front end by Wade and Jax when Greer and I needed to take the time for Dad’s memorial service.
I nodded toward her laptop. “Will you be done by then?”
She’d been fiddling with the listing photos for a day and a half, making sure everything was perfect before the house went live. Ivy waited to put the house on the market until after the memorial service, and she took Greer up on her offer to stage the house with a few items to help with the listing. It looked incredible, and during the estate sale, half the town asked her for a private showing simply because they were curious.
“Should be.” She sighed. “I’ve got a call with the guy who’s listing the land adjacent to downtown Sisters. I’m curious if he’s willing to budge on the price at all.”
“My little mogul,” I whispered, easing my hand along the side of her neck while she grinned. I used my thumb to tilt her chin up. Her lips were soft and sweet when I kissed her one more time. “What will you put there?”
She licked at her bottom lip and watched my face carefully. “I was thinking about something Greer said when we were staging the house next door.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“How you used to talk about doing a division of Wilder Homes with custom furniture, home decor, something that could branch you further than Western Oregon.”
My eyes narrowed. “We did, years ago. But we never had the time or energy to even consider something like that once Dad got sick. We’d need someone full time for something of that magnitude.”
“You would,” she purred. “Someone with a vested interest in seeing it succeed and might have the business acumen and the funds to back it.”
I sank down in front of her and studied her face while I slid my hands over her thighs. “Ivy, this is a big deal,” I said slowly.
She nodded, her eyes focused and clear and excited. “I know.”
I laughed softly. “We moved in together a couple of weeks after we started dating, and now you’re ready to start a business with my sister and me?”
“I don’t do anything half-ass, Cameron Wilder,” she stated, tugging her chair closer so she could drape her arms over my shoulders. My hands tightened on her thighs. “I know a good idea when I hear one, and I want to put my time and energy into building something important, something impactful. Not just something successful.”
My eyes searched hers. “You’ve been thinking about this for a few days, haven’t you?”
She tilted her head toward her laptop. “You should see the millions of tabs I have open. Did you know there’s an incredible market right now for family-owned, small-town-based businesses like this? With my contacts, your reputation, Ian’s design skills, and the ridiculous good looks in this family”—she leaned in for another kiss against my smiling mouth—“it’s a home run.” She paused, cradling the line of my jaw in her hand. “I think your dad would’ve liked it, wouldn’t he?”
My throat went tight as I nodded. “Yeah,” I said gruffly, “he would’ve loved it.” I pulled on her hands as I stood, tugging her into my arms. Mouth brushing against the top of her head, I added carefully, “Maybe your dad would too, if he had some time to think about it.”
She sighed, looking up at me with a wry grin hovering over her lips. “Maybe. We’ve emailed this week. It’s … a little bit better. I promised Ruth that you and I would come up for dinner when the dust settles.”
