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Ivy certainly hoped so. It was exhausting. “I think so.”
“Well, even though the video is a minor glitch, it was a good plan. You were right to try to clear the air before everything got under way.”
“So what do we do now that the press is in town?”
“You focus on what you’re there to do. Try not to cause any more scenes in public and I’ll take care of the rest. I spoke to your publicist this afternoon. She’s going to put together a few press releases about the tornado and the upcoming fund-raisers in Rosewood. With the video of you two center stage, we can promote why you’re there and all the good you’re doing for your hometown.”
That was probably the best plan. Since everyone already knew she was here, there wasn’t any sense in trying to keep quiet about it when she could be drawing national attention to the cause. The peace was most certainly over, though. “The press will be all over me at the fair tomorrow night.”
“Maybe, but that’s the point, as you well know. The press uses us and we use the press. If they want to write about you and Blake, make them talk about the fund-raiser you’re doing together. It will draw the national attention the cause needs. We need to sell concert tickets and drum up online donations. Every time that video of you two is played, I want ‘Text ROSEWOOD to 55515 to donate ten dollars to the tornado fund’ coming up.”
“That sounds like a good plan. I’ll try to stay out of trouble,” Ivy said. “But I make no promises.”
Kevin’s low chuckle rumbled in her ear. “I know, Ivy. Trouble just seems to find you.”
The lights of the rides were starting to glow brighter against the darkening late-summer sunset. The music from different games and booths filled the air, along with the tantalizing scents of funnel cakes, roasted corn, and ribbon potatoes.
Blake loved
the fair. Since he was a football player, his favorite time of year was the fall, and the fair was the official kickoff to the season. Going forward there would be cooler temperatures, shorter days, and crunching leaves. And football, of course. But it all started with candied apples and rides on the Tilt-a-Whirl.
The only thing between Blake and a night at the fair with Ivy was a big yellow ribbon.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mayor Gallagher said to the eager crowd. “Thank you for joining us on opening night of the forty-second annual county fair. We’ve got plenty of games and treats to delight the senses. Remember, twenty-five percent of the proceeds go to the Rosewood Gymnasium Fund, so don’t hold back! It’s for a good cause!”
Ivy was standing beside Blake, waiting to cut the ribbon. Why it took both of them, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t complain about being near her. She looked really lovely tonight.
Her dark hair was up in a sleek ponytail, highlighting her high cheekbones. Her makeup was flawless, with mysterious cat eyes and a dark plum color on her lips. She was wearing a silky dark purple top with a snug pair of skinny jeans that had a rhinestone design on the rear pockets. He’d only looked because they caught the light, of course.
Part of him hoped she’d dressed up for their night together, but it was more than likely for the cameras. Blake spotted at least six unfamiliar men with cameras in the crowd. It hadn’t taken long for those rental cars to start spawning photographers. Clark Newton with the Rosewood Times didn’t stand a chance against these guys.
Blake hadn’t been able to shake the constant sensation that he was being watched all day. They’d photographed him on the field. Walking to and from the school parking lot. He visited his sister Maddie at the bakery to pick up a cupcake, and the next thing he knew, Grant texted him that there were pictures online of him eating cupcakes.
Was that really interesting to people? They were shooting anything and everything they could while they waited to catch him and Ivy together. Tonight would be their first real chance at a photo worth taking, but Blake wasn’t certain what they would capture. He and Ivy were going to the fair together, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was a date. He’d told her not to worry about labeling it, to take it as it came, but then he did the same thing.
He still didn’t know what was going on between them. Blake had gotten used to the fighting. He’d spent six years being angry with Ivy, and her arrival in town had allowed him to vent all his pent-up frustration.
Now the hatchet was buried. Whether or not she’d meant to, she’d announced to the whole world that his penis was not the Vienna sausage she’d led them to believe. He was happy about that, but honestly it hadn’t done him much good. The damage was done. All the video got him was a couple of texts from Lydia sniffing around for another date.
Not going to happen. As expected, Blake easily spotted her at the edge of the crowd. She kept flipping her blond hair over her shoulder and reapplying her lip gloss while she watched him on the stage. He hated the way Lydia looked at him. There was a predatory edge in her gaze that unnerved him. The kind that made him think she wanted him, but if she couldn’t have him, no one else would, either.
Thank goodness he’d convinced Ivy to hang out with him tonight.
The mayor turned around and handed him a large, golden pair of scissors. They were ridiculously big and quite heavy. It made Blake wonder if every town had one of these stashed away for ribbon-cutting events.
“And now, Grammy Award–winning music sensation Ivy Hudson and former Auburn and Houston Texans quarterback Blake Chamberlain will cut the ribbon and kick off the fair.”
Blake looked at Ivy and gestured for her to go ahead of him down the stairs. They walked over to the ribbon that crossed the archway leading to the fairgrounds. Once in place, he held out the scissors so she could take half.
She hadn’t really looked at him or spoken to him tonight. He figured it was because of all the cameras, but as she reached for the golden handle she gave him half a smile and a little wink. Together, they opened the scissors and slipped them into place.
He had to lean in quite a bit to maneuver them with Ivy. It got him close enough to catch a whiff of her perfume. He’d come home Tuesday with that same scent on his polo shirt. After he’d pulled it over his head, he’d held it to his nose and taken a deep breath. The scent was entirely different on her. It was warmed by her skin and mixed with her other cosmetics before it swirled in the air around him. Blake leaned a little closer and took a deep breath, as subtly as he could, holding it in his lungs for a moment.
“Are you sniffing me?” Ivy whispered.
“What?” Blake said. He was apparently not as subtle as he’d thought. “Of course not. Why would I sniff you?”
“Because I smell good,” she said matter-of-factly.
