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Ivy suddenly remembered seeing the ring when she had tea with Miss Adelia at the mansion. She had always worn that ring, even years after her husband passed away. Ivy would’ve sworn that his grandmother would be buried wearing that ring.
“When I told her I loved you, she took it off her hand and gave it to me. It brought her and my grandfather nearly fifty wonderful years together. I’m hoping that you and I will have that, and many, many more. Ivy Grace Hudson . . . will you marry me?”
For the first time since she walked out onstage that night, the entire room was silent. She could’ve heard a pin drop if it weren’t for the distracting tattoo of her heart rapidly pounding in her ears. The rhythm of it was remarkably similar to the “ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod” spinning through her brain. He’d just proposed to her on television. On television!
And yet, it didn’t make a bit of difference where they were or who was watching. He could’ve proposed in his fishing boat on Willow Lake without another human around for miles. She loved him. Despite everything, she loved him and he loved her. She wanted to marry him.
“Yes!” she shouted, surprising even herself with the volume and enthusiasm of her response. Her hand was shaking like a leaf as Blake slipped the ring onto her finger. Once it was secure, she grinned and leaped out of her chair and into Blake’s arms. The crowd roared with applause and cheers that blocked out anything she and Blake might have wanted to say in the moment. That was okay. What she wanted to express didn’t require words.
Her lips met his. She didn’t care if there were cameras or people watching. Nothing mattered but returning to the arms of the man she loved.
“Another first, ladies and gentlemen!” she heard the host say over the applause. “A marriage proposal on my show. And of all the guests—Hollywood dating hellcat Ivy Hudson! This is going in the highlight reel, folks.”
Reluctantly, Ivy pulled away. They were on a television show, and eventually they needed to cut for commercial. Once she got off that stage, she could kiss and hug Blake all she wanted to. They settled back into their seats with Blake still holding her hand.
“You’d better be good to your fiance´e, Blake,” Jimmy said. “I hear she can write a pretty mean song about the guys that break her heart.”
“I know!” Blake said with a happy laugh. “Believe me, I know!”
“The talented and newly engaged Ivy Hudson and Blake Chamberlain!” Jimmy announced to the crowd. “When we come back, we’ll chat with the pint-size star of Kiddie Commando—Ty Mason!”
The crowd applauded again and Blake and Ivy were free to make their way off the set. They disappeared backstage, hand in hand. Hidden in the dark folds of the stage drapery, Blake swept her into his arms again.
“Nothing happened. Not a damn thing. Lydia was trying to break us up once and for all. That woman will go to any length to make you miserable.”
“Like what? More than just the usual spitefulness?”
Blake sighed. “Yes. Like spooking your horse at the parade. Like planning that whole thing Saturday night so you would catch us together. But nothing happened. I had just reached out to push her away when you walked in. I wouldn’t have done that to you twice, Ivy. I’ve beat myself up for six years over the first time. It would mean a lifetime of penance to do it again. And I certainly wouldn’t have put you on the spot like that, proposing, if I had anything to hide from you.”
Ivy wanted to believe him. So badly. “I love you, Blake. Whether or not I should, I do. And I want to believe you. I want to marry you. But I want to be smart about this, too. Let’s not get married right away. I’d like us to have a long engagement so we can really get to know each other as we are, not just as we were.”
“So we’re tentatively engaged pending the successful completion of my trial period?” He smiled when he said the words, which made Ivy feel better about the suggestion. “I’m all for that. I will do whatever it takes to win back your trust.”
“Thank you.” Ivy leaned in and kissed him, snuggling comfortably into his strong arms. It would be hard for her not to want to rush into marrying him, but she knew they both needed the time. “I also think we need a while to figure out how all this is going to work.”
“As long as I’m with you, I think it’s going to work out just fine. My grandmother said we were meant to be together, and I believe her. I wouldn’t have hung my neck out there like that if I didn’t.”
“So, the show didn’t fly you out here?”
“No, I came on my own but didn’t know how to find you. I called your phone, but Malcolm answered.”
“Stop right there,” Ivy said. Her mind was still whirling with everything that had just happened, but at least some of the puzzle pieces were fitting together. This was no stunt organized by the show for good ratings. This was the carefully orchestrated romantic interference of her best friend.
When she turned to look backstage, she spied a smug-looking Malcolm waiting for them. She took Blake’s hand and led him over to where Malcolm was standing. “Malcolm . . .” she said in a warning tone.
He immediately threw his hands up. “I am only partially responsible for all of that. I just got him on set. Okay, well, I got him on set and I got everything okayed by the show’s producers. And I gave him the idea. But that’s it.”
Somehow she doubted that, but she was incredibly grateful for his romantic interference.
Ivy wrapped her arms around Blake’s waist, looking up at him with a smile curling her lips. They were in love and getting married. That decided, there were still a million variables to figure out. Where would they live? What would they do? How would they make this work? “So now what?” she asked.
“Well, you still need a couple of tracks for your new album, right?”
Ivy frowned in confusion. “Yes.” How did that relate to anything?
Blake looked down at her, his blue eyes crinkled with mischievousness. “Then you’d better take me back to your house so I can help inspire some brand-new songs.”
