Ivy

“Nick must be stopped,” Lacey says, her voice conveying a drama I quite appreciate and enjoy. Her appearance is dramatic too. She has on a green summer dress, and between that and her red hair, she’s like a vengeful Christmas elf who wandered out of the North Pole at the wrong time of year. I approve.

“Yes!” I enthuse. “Precisely.”

“Drinks?” Lou interjects, bringing out boozy hot chocolates from the kitchen. It may be late summer, but a person has to set the right mood, and besides, Lou and I spent hours last week perfecting the old Christmas All Year coffee drinks.

Did we get very drunk? Very, but it was for a worthy cause. I wanted to make Lacey feel at home on her visit today.

Ever since I found out about Lacey’s petition to keep Christmas All Year Coffee, well, Christmassy, I’ve been wanting in on her plot. I mean, Christmas All Year Coffee is part of the foundation of Highland Hills. Other than the amusement park on top of Big Jump Mountain, it’s arguably the only fun part of my hometown, and now that the Meadowses have retired to Disney world and their nephew Nick Dreyer is in charge, the vagabond is stripping everything unique about it. He may have started small—renaming the beloved drinks and food, bestowing them with practical names—but according to Lacey he has plans.

“Oh,” Lacey says, her eyes the color of the hot chocolate. “You made us all Three Wise Mens.”

“Yes,” I tell her. “Be prepared to get shit-faced. My brother says this is the most potent of the drinks, and I have my best ideas when tipsy.” I beam up at Lou as he serves us the drinks. He’s wearing a T-shirt and cutoff shorts. Okay, I’m just messing with you. It’s a T-shirt and jeans, which you can rest assured I purchased for him. “I was drunk when I first decided to seduce Lou.”

He almost drops my hot drink on me as he sets it on the table.

“Oh, don’t worry. She won’t think you’re a cad for making it with a drunk woman, Lou Moralis. I assure you he wouldn’t touch me until the next morning.” I wink at her. “But then he was all tiger.”

“Light of my life,” Lou tells me. Or at least I think he’s talking to me. That would be a very familiar thing for him to say to Lacey given we’ve only just officially met her.

“Yes?” I say as he sits down next to me, placing his hand on my knee.

“You’re frightening our guest.”

“Oh, no,” Lacey says dismissively, waving a hand. “I like it when people are romantic with each other. It’s the way life should be. Romantic. Magical. We all need a little magic, don’t you think? Better to go big.”

“Yes! This is what I’m talking about! Well, we obviously both signed your petition,” I tell her. “A few times, actually. I made Lou sign up for multiple email addresses so we could pull it off.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell anyone that,” he says, but his eyes are dancing. I’ve mellowed him despite himself.

“But what else can we do?” I ask her. “I mean, have you had your aunt Eleanor and the other Fates try to put a banishing spell on him? What could it hurt?”

I found out about Lacey through her aunt Eleanor, one of the three elderly ladies I call the Three Fates because they’re always together, whether they’re knitting, casting spells, or trying to seduce my father as a group. Okay, they backed off on their attempted seduction of my dad months ago, but only because he’s very happily partnered up with someone.

Lacey sighs and traces the rim of her mug. “They tried three times.” She laughs humorlessly. “Aunt Eleanor even put a love spell on him, because she figured if he was head-over-heels in love with me he would agree to anything I said.”

“Well, she’s not wrong about that,” Lou says, gesturing to the ridiculous hot drinks he helped prepare.

He has a point. Left to his own devices, he would never have called this emergency three-person summit to help restore the magic to Christmas All Year Coffee. In fact, he admitted to me that he thinks the new names for the drinks and food are more practical and make ordering an easier and quicker process. I’d be more pissed about that if he weren’t so supportive.

I layer my hand over his on my leg and squeeze.

Lacey scoffs. “As if Nick could fall in love with anyone. He’s a miserable human being. I don’t know if you heard, but he took down the train the other day. You know, the one running along the inside of the shop. God only knows what he did with it. Now he’s talking about stripping back the Christmas decorations. He thinks it should be limited to the tree. Now, what’s the point of that? Why not just call it a chain restaurant and be done with it?”

“Are the Meadowses okay with all of this?” I ask in horror.

She pulls a face that makes it obvious she has been reporting to them, then says, “They don’t like it. Who could? But they say they want to be supportive of him. He’s had a ‘hard time,’ and he needs a confidence boost. Well, if it boosts his confidence to ruin other people’s fun, he doesn’t deserve anyone’s support.”

Huh. This is a pickle. I figured their influence was key to getting him to back down.

“It all comes down to money, doesn’t it?” Lou says. My immediate response is an eyeroll, but he turns the hand he still has on my leg to grasp mine. “I mean it, Ivy. Christmas All Year Coffee is always busy. It must have made good money the way the Meadowses ran it. Nick thinks he knows better, but if the profits tank, everyone will know he’s wrong. The finances will prove it.”

“Yeah, but how long will it take?” Lacey asks. “Besides, he’s not the kind of man who’ll admit he’s wrong unless it’s shoved in his face. He’d need to see that he’s wrong. He’ll need real-time evidence. Graphs. Photos.”

She looks exhausted by the prospect.

“Which is why you figured you’d give the petition a go,” I surmise.

“Sure,” she says, “but he says they’re too easily faked for it to mean anything.” Then she gives a half shrug as if to begrudgingly admit he’s right. After all, I did just tell her we’d signed it half a dozen—okay, a dozen—times.

“I’m sure we’re the only ones who signed it multiple times,” I tell her.

“No.” She sighs again. “My aunt and her friends did the same thing. He’s right about the petition, as much as I hate to say it.”

Lou lifts his brows, his gaze averting to me, then her. “Then you have to find another way to show him. Do you think the Meadowses would be up for franchising?”

“What?” Lacey and I ask at the same time.

I study him, taking in the confidence in his brow, the glimmer of something like excitement in his brown eyes. God, he looks handsome when he’s in his element—and equally so when I’ve convinced him to do something wicked. But this is business Lou, and he’s why I’ve insisted on having a locking door in my writing office in what was formerly Mayberry Matchmakers. Because who wouldn’t want to drag Business Lou into their office and do dirty deeds with them?

“Exactly what I said,” Lou tells her. “I bet they’d let you, especially if they want their legacy to continue and they want to support their nephew.”

Lacey’s eyes take on a dreamy look, but it slips quickly. “I’d need to find backers,” she says. “I’m not…I don’t have that kind of savings, and the Meadowses are retired. They won’t want to take such a big financial risk without other people investing too.”

Lou glances at me again, a corner of his mouth kicking up, as if to say your play, Ivy. Holy hell, I love this man. He knows me better than I know myself.

“Well, I think we can help you out there, Lacey,” I tell her, nearly bouncing in my seat. “If you want us to.”

“But…” Lacey traces the rim of her mug. “I wouldn’t be able to do it in Highland Hills.”

“No,” I agree. “There’s not enough of Highland Hills for two Christmas All Year Coffees. But we can find a town nearby. Maybe…”

“What about Asheville?” Lou suggests.

The slight smile on his face tells me he’s not averse to having another reason to visit, mostly because his best friend and my sister Willow live there. They’re getting married at the Biltmore Estate in Asheville next month, and Rory rented out a big house in the mountains so we can all stay together. It’s been on our minds, is what I’m saying. But it isn’t a bad idea—Asheville’s only a couple of hours away, and we’re going to be up there for a week, plenty of time to scope out possible locations. Maybe Lacey can meet us. Or, if she doesn’t want to work on such a quick, schedule, there’ll be plenty of time to scope it out later, after Nick visits more ruination on our beloved institute.

“I don’t know about this,” Lacey says, which suggests she hasn’t had enough of her Wise Men drink to make life-altering decisions.

“We’ll all think about it,” I say. “But if he dares to mess with the music…”

Her pretty face creases into a frown. “He’s already shifted to an all-instrumental playlist. He says Mariah Carey gives him a headache.”

“I’ll give him a headache,” I bluster, then take a big gulp of a drink that’s sure to give me a headache.

The door creaks open, and I glance over to see my dad. He is wearing cut-offs, despite Lou trying to gently convince him not to, paired with a T-shirt that says My Girlfriend’s A Hot Artist. I bought that for him, actually, not his girlfriend, but she is a hot artist, and I’m over-the-moon happy for them.

“Whatcha you guys up to?” Dad asks, taking in the scene.

“This is Lacey,” I say, poking a finger at her.

“I know,” he says, with a nod. “Good to see you, Lacey. You take care of that rabbit situation in your yard?”

God only knows how he knows about that.

She smiles. “I planted some flowers for them to eat.”

Lou snorts. I give him a dirty look, but he grins at me.

“We’re scheming, Dad,” I tell him. “You want to join us?”

“You got another of those drinks?”

“Nope, no can do,” I say. It may have been over two-thirds of a year since his heart attack, but a person can’t be too careful. “I will pour you a large glass of water, though.”

“Let me take care of that.” Lou squeezes my thigh and gets up.

“Dare I ask for some lemon, shortcake?” my dad says, looking at me.

“You’re calling Lou shortcake now?” I respond with a grin. “I love how you two love each other.”

Lou snorts again as he makes his way to the kitchen. “One lemon water coming up.”

“So,” my dad says, taking a seat next to Lacey. “What’s my beloved daughter trying to convince you to do?

“What aren’t I trying to convince her to do?”
Lacey smiles at him. “She’s trying to convince me to take a chance on myself, sir.”

“And are you going to, ma’am?” he asks, his eyes sparkling. It delights me to see him so full of life these days—like he’s constantly floating around in the best mood of his life. Then again, I guess everything’s going well for all of us. For Dad, for me and Lou, and for all of my siblings and their partners too. We’ve been through hard times, and now we’re all about happier days.

“I’m not a ma’am,” she insists.

“And I’m not a sir.”

“Don’t delay answering the question, Lacey,” I tell her. “I excel at forcing people to take chances on themselves.”

“She does,” Lou says, bringing back the water and placing it in front of my dad. There has to be, like, half a lemon sliced up in there, and Dad and I both laugh, prompting Lou to grin at us. It’s like basking in the sunlight, being the recipient of one of Lou’s grins.

“Okay.” She taps the table. “I’m going to think about it, but if Nick continues being a dick, there’s a very good chance I’m going to say yes.”

“To all of it or just some of it?”

She beams at me as she stands. “To all of it. Like I said, I believe in going big.”

“My kind of lady,” I say, jumping out of my chair and offering her my hand for a high-five. She hugs me instead.

“Thank you, Ivy.” Then she pulls away and addresses all of us. “I want to thank all of you for caring about Christmas All Year Coffee like I do. For knowing it’s not just another coffee shop…it’s special.” She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears, and I feel a little bad then, because this is obviously way more personal to her than it is to me. Then again, I’m all about getting her what she wants.

“Aren’t you going to drink your Wise Men?” I ask.

She looks a little chagrined. “Sorry, it’s just not the same.”

“Was it the nutmeg?” Lou asks, always clinical about such things. Then again, he’s the one who put so much effort into getting it right. I was perfectly content to drink our reject attempts while watching unseasonal Hallmark Christmas movies.

“I don’t know,” she says, and I know it’s the magic it’s lacking. I hope we can get it back for her—for all of us. Even if it has to be somewhere else.

“You say hello to your aunt for me, now,” my dad says, lifting his lemon water as if for a cheers.

“I will,” she promises, then she turns and leaves in a bustle of red and green, leaving me with more inspiration than I know what do with…and not just for the shop itself. There’s the seed of a book here, although I can’t tell what shape it’ll take yet. It would drive Lou mad for me to say so, but that’s the way it goes—there’s a kernel, and once I nurture it, it will sprout. What kind of plant it will be, no one knows.

“I love you, Lou,” I blurt.

He grins at me. “Even though I screwed up the Three Wise Men?”
“I like it,” I say, lifting mine and taking a sip. Huh. Maybe she was right. I mean, it’s still tasty as all get out, and I intend on drinking every drop, but the magic’s not quite there. Maybe because the magic isn’t in the alcohol or the drink name, but in the place.

God, I’m getting sappy as hell now that I’m in love.

“Do I need to leave?” my dad says. “Are you going to make questionable use of the kitchen table again?"

Lou blushes so bright, his ears look like tomatoes.

"We were just making out, Dad,” I say, “give it a rest. You’re giving Lou tomato ear.”

“I wish I didn’t know what you mean,” Lou mutters, “but I can actually feel them being red. Are you going to talk to Rory about possibly backing this?”

“Nah,” I say. “If it happens, I want us to do it.”

He gives a nod that doesn't read of surprise whatsoever. It’s what he thought too. Which is why…

“Dad? You might want to make yourself scarce. I have a feeling things are going to get wild with this kitchen table.”

He snorts, Lou’s ears get redder, and Dad says, “Just as well. I told Rowan I’d join him for a hike.”

“Not too strenuous!” I say. “And make sure you have bottled water, and—”

“I know, shortcake. Scout’s honor. I already have everything I need in the car.” He smiles broadly at both of us. “Enjoy the table, kids.” Then he leaves, because dammit, the Anderses know how to make an exit.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Lou says, glowering at me, but in a way that indicates he’s not very upset.

“Give me a minute.” I spring out of my seat and start heading down the hallway to the bedroom we share whenever we’re in Highland Hills.

“Seriously? You’re abandoning me to my embarrassment?”

“Not for long,” I call down the hall.

Once in our room, I say hello to our fish, then grab the little box from the back of my sock drawer. Skipping a little, because I’m feeling like I’m on Cloud Ten—screw Cloud Nine—I head back down the hall.

Lou’s watching me with a chagrined expression, sipping at his Wise Men drink. It’s an Ivy’s up to some shit look, and if he thinks that, he’d be right.

I reach him and drop to one knee in front of him, holding out the little box.

“What’s this?” he asks confused, and he looks gorgeous this way too.

“It’s a box. Open it.”

He studies the little box with the fish stamped into, then opens it. There’s a simple white-gold band inside, because Lou’s the kind of guy who appreciates the classics.

His eyes go wide and he glances up at me. “Ivy.”

I grin at him, feeling my heart pounding in my chest, even though I know this is right. This is us. “I know you want to get married, and I also know you’ve been afraid to ask. Willow told me that she’d heard you and Alex talking about it. So I figured I’d take out the guesswork. Yes, I want to marry you. And I hope you’ll agree to marry me, even though I’m crazy and will always be crazy. I want to keep having adventures with you, Lou. I want us to back Lacey with this coffee shop because it’s a lark, and because we believe in it, and I want to do things like that all of our lives. And I want to spend time with our family and to live life together. And generally be a pest you can’t shake.”

He sets the ring on the table, and for just an instant, I’m worried he’ll say no. That he’ll tell me he’s decided I’m a bit too much of a gamble for a man who was raised to like things the straightforward way, but he lifts me up and pulls me onto my lap, our faces inches apart. “You stole my thunder,” he says, inches away from my lips, little zips of electricity arcing between us. “I was about to get up the nerve to do it myself.”

“Oh my God,” I say, bouncing a little, which puts a hungry look in his eyes that I quite like. “Does this mean we’re getting married?”
“I guess so.” Then he leans in and kisses me right, sliding one arm up my back to bring me closer to him, to take our kiss deeper. It’s the perfect moment. The perfect day. I was always so afraid of marriage, of becoming my mother, but being with Lou has proven to me that I only ever have to be myself—or at least that’s true when I’m with him.

I pull away slightly, but only to say, “Does this mean we really are going to do dirty things on that table?”

He gives me a half smile, grinding me against his hardness. “Your dad already thinks we did. We might as well make him right.”

That’s my Lou, a prince in the streets and a freak in the sheets. Or on the table.