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She snorted. “I hope you’re nicer than this to Ivy.”
Somehow, I swallowed a scathing response.
It doesn’t take long in a big family to learn that the bigger your reaction, the nosier everyone gets.
Greer started toward the house, only managing two steps before Ivy’s sleek rental car pulled into the driveway.
She turned a slow pivot, eyebrows arched in obnoxious, gleeful surprise. “Well now, you failed to mention she was coming here.”
“Did I?” I muttered.
“I am so very glad I made the drive,” she said. “This is going to be the best part of my day.”
Shit.
If I thought it was bad having Ian and Ivy in the same place, it was a thousand times worse that Greer was the sole witness. Even though she drove me to drink half the time, my stepsister was one of my closest friends. We’d worked together for a decade, and she was probably the only person in my family I could own a business with.
The reason it worked so well is because we weren’t afraid to call each other out on our shit, but it was never done in a cruel way or with malicious intent. We were so close in age when our parents got married, both the middle of our respective siblings, it was a natural alliance out of all the chaos of growing up in such a big family.
And she was the one who’d see right through whatever confusing feelings I had for Ivy, which is why I needed her the hell out of there.
Once she knew, Poppy would know. Once Poppy knew, Mom would know. If Mom knew, Dad would know, and I might as well just sit the entire family down to avoid a nightmare version of Wilder Family Telephone.
When Ivy’s car eased to a stop behind Greer’s vehicle, no big sunglasses in sight, something unlocked in my chest. A release of tension I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
Whether it was my imagination or not, those sunglasses always felt a bit like armor.
I hated the idea that Ivy felt the need for that kind of protection because she certainly didn’t need to be protected from me.
Through the windshield, I saw her notice of Greer and the fortifying breath that expanded her frame. But once she’d done that, she smiled.
“Good Lord,” Greer breathed. “She’s too smart and too pretty for you.”
I ignored her.
It was easy too, because I just had to fight to stay standing at the sight of that smile. Had to fight to suck in sufficient oxygen because of that smile.
It wasn’t aimed at me, of course, it was meant for my sister—the one she’d been emailing and talking to on the phone the last two days.
Smiles like that—the kind I’d only gotten glimpses of in the dim light of the elevator—had me wondering if I’d really seen them at all.
“She doesn’t like hugs,” I heard myself say. “Don’t try to hug her when she gets out of the car.”
Greer’s lips pursed thoughtfully. “I have questions about how you’d know that.”
I rolled my eyes, even though how I’d learned certain things about Ivy was the kind of story my sister would never, ever know. “Don’t get too excited. Mom and Poppy ran into her at the restaurant.”
“A much less interesting story than the one currently unfolding in my head, but noted all the same.”
My sister, quick learner that she was, approached Ivy as soon as she was out of the car. Her stride was confident, and she shook Ivy’s outstretched hand firmly.
“It is so great to meet you in person,” Greer said.
Ivy’s gaze darted between us before she gave my sister a quick smile. “You as well. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“That’s because I love surprising my brother.” Then she slapped my back. I hid my wince. Barely. I cut her a look, and she grinned. “Keeps him on his toes.”
“Don’t give her any ideas now,” I told Greer.
