Chapter 10

They made love and talked and made love again until eventually starvation drove them to the kitchen, where they devoured the leftover French toast, still cold, before hitting the shower, where they had each other again. With each kiss, each caress, each climax, Harrison felt a few more layers of armor peel back - his and hers. They spoke of everything and nothing. Ivy told him about her childhood, of moving often, just when she'd really settled into a place.

"It made me rootless, I guess." She sprawled in his lap after their shower, wearing nothing but his shirt and a satisfied smile, her fingers tracing patterns on his nape.

Harrison stroked the wet hair back from her face. "Wouldn't your family have been your roots?"

"I mean, they were. They did their best. But I'll never get to go 'home' for holidays. I don't have one house I grew up in with all these built-up memories. I don't really have childhood best friends that I stayed close to. I learned never to get attached to places - or people either, really. I had to learn to appreciate the moment."

Was that what this was for her? Was that why she was able to throw herself into an unplanned affair with such enthusiasm? Harrison didn't like the idea that she already had her eye on the end of things. He hadn't been looking for this, hadn't planned for it, but he couldn't imagine walking away from her after today and never seeing her again. He didn't know exactly what this was beyond the first real connection he'd felt in years, but he wasn't ready to let her go. And that scared the shit out of him.

He tightened his arms around her and opened his mouth to say - he didn't know what. But his undoubtedly ill-advised honesty was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Ivy tensed. "Expecting someone?"

"No. No one knows I'm here except my friend, Porter. It's his cabin." But surely he hadn't come all the way out here in all this snow. Unless it had melted while they were otherwise occupied? He slid Ivy off his lap and buttoned his jeans.

Though no one could see in through the blinds, she tugged down the tails of his flannel shirt. "I'm just gonna zip up to the loft and get pants."

Harrison scooped up his discarded t-shirt and waited until she'd disappeared behind the half-wall to open the door. This was gonna be fun to explain to his buddy.

But it wasn't Porter on the porch. A broad-shouldered guy with a badge pinned to his thick winter coat stood in the doorway. "Harrison Wilkes?"

He shifted his weight, instinctively blocking the man's view inside. "Yeah?"

"I'm Sheriff Xander Kincaid. A friend of Porter's. He asked me to check on you since I was doing patrols on this side of the county."

"Oh." Harrison relaxed a notch. "Well, I'm fine. I've got the generator going and plenty of supplies."

"He'll be relieved to know you made it okay. Not everybody did. We had a guest expected at the inn in town. It's looking like she went over the side a little over a mile from here. One of my deputies is waiting on some of our search and rescue guys to go down and check the wreckage, but we don't have a lot of hope, not after how cold it got last night." The other man's face was set in preparation for facing the grim reality of body retrieval.

"Chevy Blazer?"

The sheriff's eyes sharpened. "Yeah. Did you see something on your way up here?"

Harrison glanced back at the loft, where Ivy was making her way down the narrow staircase. "I'm happy to report you won't be notifying any next of kin. The driver's right here." He stepped back, opening the door fully.

Xander stepped inside, going brows up as he caught sight of Ivy, who still wore Harrison's flannel shirt. "Ivy Blake?"

"Guilty. I take it you found my truck."

"Yeah, just a bit ago. I - " His gaze skimmed over her in quick assessment. "You weren't hurt?"

Ivy lifted a hand to the cut on her temple. "Not badly. A few scrapes. Some bruises. Harrison found me about an hour after I went through the rail. He's the one who got me out."

The sheriff's gaze swung to him. "By yourself?"

Harrison shrugged. "Nobody else around at the time."

"Damn. Let me just say we're all glad you came by. And you, Miss Blake, are a very lucky woman to have made it out of that wreck alive and in one piece. Pru will be so relieved. She was worried sick when you didn't show yesterday."

"Pru?" Harrison asked.

"My sister-in-law. She and her husband and my wife run The Misfit Inn where Miss Blake has reservations."

"I'm sorry about not calling. My phone was toast in the wreck, the cabin doesn't have a phone, and we haven't ventured out in the snow to try to find a signal."

Xander turned back to Ivy. "It's spotty around here anyway. Listen, I'm not sure what we can do about your vehicle before everything thaws, but I can take you back into town, drop you at the inn. The local doctor will absolutely come by to check you out."

Harrison bit back the urge to say she was fine exactly where she was. All day they'd avoided the topic of going into town. But this was it - the big intrusion of the outside world. Their intimate little bubble had been broken.

His mind raced, trying to figure out some way to suggest she stay with him. For all he'd thought he wanted to be alone, he'd found he didn't. He wanted to be with her. She'd proved to be a better distraction from his shit than anything else. Not just because of the sex - though that was fantastic - but just because of...her. She kept him in the now, pulled him back when he began to slip. And beyond all that, he'd enjoyed the hell out of her company. She was interesting. Working with her brainstorming her plot was the most legitimate fun he'd had in ages. He wanted to tell her about his own work and maybe talk through what it was he needed to do with his own plot problems. Was it weird that he'd waited this long to bring it up?

Despite all of it, he didn't speak. It wasn't fair of him to ask her to stay. She'd had a plan before the wreck interrupted it. She had a life she probably needed to get back to, details to sort out. Hell, there were probably other people she really should call to notify that she was okay. He was...just a break. A distraction for her. That was all they could be to each other.

"Actually, Sheriff, if it's all the same to you, I think I'll stay here. Harrison and I were going to go into town later on, once the roads were more clear, so I can take care of some business."

She wanted to stay. Here. With him. Relief had the tension draining out of his muscles so fast he dropped back to lean against the arm of the sofa. He crossed his arms as if he'd done it on purpose.

Xander divided a speculative look between them. "If you're sure."

Ivy's lips curved into an easy smile. "I'm sure."

"All right. I'll let Pru know."

Harrison followed Xander to the door. "If you'll just tell Porter I'll be in touch next time I make it to town?"

"Sure can. Y'all take care." With one last look at Ivy, the sheriff nodded and headed out.

Harrison stood at the window, watching him back a big ass Bronco up the drive. The tires slipped and slid a little in the snow, but he made it onto the road with less trouble than Harrison would've expected. Over the course of the day, it appeared the snow had finally stopped. But for the fresh tracks behind his Jeep, nothing interrupted their winter wonderland.

"Harrison?"

He swung around. "Yeah?"

The casual smile she'd shot at Xander was gone. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. "I shouldn't have sent him off without actually talking to you first. Is this really okay? Me staying? I mean, I made an assumption after - " She waved a hand between the two of them. "But you know what they say about assumptions."

Wanting to put her at ease, he crossed the room sliding his arms around her. "It's so okay." He dropped a quick, soft kiss to her lips before resting his brow against hers. "I wanted you to stay. But I couldn't figure out how to ask without putting you on the spot."

Her face brightened. "Really?"

"Really." He laced his fingers at the small of her back and grinned. "How else am I gonna find out how Annika and Michael get together before anybody else?"

She tugged back just enough to look him in the face with narrowed, laughing eyes. "Harrison Wilkes, are you a closet romantic?"

He didn't know, but this woman had sure as hell made his heart start beating again. And he was pretty sure he liked it.

* * *

"I don't wanna." Ivy grimaced at the new, pre-paid cell phone she'd picked up at the little general store.

Across the table of their booth in Crystal's Diner, Harrison picked up his grilled mac and cheese sandwich. "You can't avoid her forever."

"I don't know. I feel like you know all about how to go off the grid. You could help me disappear." He'd done a damned fine job of it so far.

For forty-eight glorious hours, she'd put everything but him out of her mind. They'd talked and debated and plotted, between playing in the snow like children and feeding their insatiable appetites for each other. It was the world's best entirely unplanned vacation from her life. She felt energized, recharging with him in a way she hadn't since her whole crazy author career began.

But by the third day, the guilt had started niggling her. The sheriff's visit had reminded her that there was a life outside the four walls of the little cabin. She'd never been out of contact this long before. There were people she really ought to check in with in the real world, to let them know where she was and that she was okay. Plus they'd run out of condoms - even the two long strips that one of her friends had stuck in the side pocket of her bag as a party favor from Deanna's Thank God I'm Divorced party last summer. And wouldn't Jasmine be shouting a "You go girl!" for Ivy having pulled that off?

So they'd driven into Eden's Ridge to take care of necessary business. Arrangements had been made with Thompson's Garage to retrieve her Blazer from the side of the mountain. Not that anybody was under a delusion that it wasn't totaled, but they couldn't just leave it there. Willie Thompson, a grizzled old guy in overalls and a black trucker cap proclaiming "Good Guys Wear White," was totally going in a book someday. They'd done some shopping and finally ended up having lunch at the diner.

The call with her parents had gone fine. She'd downplayed the wreck and glossed over her current lodging situation. The preacher's daughter did not want to admit she was cozily and intimately shacked up with her rescuer. But she hadn't been able to force herself to call Marianne, even though she'd probably already booked a plane ticket to carry out her threat to hunt Ivy down if she didn't hear from her by - oh hell - yesterday.

"I could. But it would get to you eventually. Whether that's before or after she tracks you down is up for debate. So suck it up and get it over with, Blake."

Ivy winced. "Marianne's going to kill me."

"If she doesn't grant you an automatic extension for having been in a life-threatening wreck a few days ago, she's not human."

"It wasn't life-threatening. You were there."

His smile flashed white against his beard. "Yeah, but she doesn't know that. You're a writer. Control the image you portray. You were traumatized. Your laptop was killed in the accident. You're going to have to start over because the cloud backup didn't work."

She arched a brow. "It's a little disturbing how readily you have those excuses ready."

"I'm motivated by purely selfish reasons."

"Do those reasons involve getting me naked again as soon as we get home?" Ivy felt her teasing grin freeze. Home?

"They just might."

She barely heard his reply. Had she really just called the cabin home? What was up with that? Yes it was a cozy little love nest. But thinking of it as home was ridiculous. It was neither theirs nor home. And how would she, of all people, even know what that felt like anyway? But the sentiment was there nonetheless.

Or maybe it wasn't the cabin. Maybe it was Harrison himself. She felt more grounded and stable with him than she had in...years. Maybe ever. Maybe there was some kind of hero worship thing going on - and there was definitely phenomenal sex - but there was more, too. He was slowly but surely opening up to her. As she'd relaxed and settled, so had he, though he still had a tendency to err on the side of turning the conversation back to her or the book rather than talking much about himself. They hadn't discussed anything beyond the now. The now was so very unexpected and wonderful, she was afraid to say anything to risk jinxing it.

But that hadn't stopped her from thinking about it. The idea of a relationship hadn't even been on her radar since grad school. She barely managed to keep up with her friends. And yet she was already wondering what she'd have to do to keep Harrison as part of her real life. Would he want that? Would the fantasy hold up under the harsh light of the everyday? She wasn't ready to find out just yet.

If Harrison noticed her gaffe, he made no indication. "Would it help if I offered to reward you for being a good girl and making that call?" His devilish grin made it clear what kind of reward he had in mind.

"Do I get to pick the reward?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Okay, then after I make the call, I get to ask you a question about you and you have to answer."

Some of his humor fled. "Why?"

"Because you're really good at deflecting. We've talked a lot about me the last few days. I want to know about you."

He shifted in his seat. "I'm out of practice with sharing anything about myself."

"One question, Harrison."

"Fine. With the qualifier that there's stuff I can't talk about because it's classified."

"Much as that intrigues me, that isn't the stuff I want to know." Ivy took a breath. "Okay. I'm doing this."

She punched in Marianne's number.

"Ivy,wherethehellhaveyoubeen? I'vebeentryingtoreachyoufordays!" Marianne's greeting spewed out without a single breath or pause, loud enough that Harrison obviously heard from across the table.

He arched a brow.

"I'm sorry I didn't call before now. I was in an accident last week."

"Oh my God, are you okay?"

"I'm not permanently damaged. I can't say the same for my Blazer. I went over the side of a mountain. It was...bad."

"Ivy!"

"Nothing's broken, but I've been pretty shaken up. I had to be treated for exposure and a minor head injury." She looked up at Harrison and saw his eyes darken at the memory.

"I'm so glad you're okay."

"Well, I may not be when you get through with me. My laptop died in the crash. And my backup to the cloud failed. The book's gone."

Marianne sucked in a breath. "Gone? Like...gone gone?"

"Yeah."

"How is that possible? Can't they pull your hard drive and get the data?"

"It was damaged, too." She was possibly going to a special writer's hell for this lie. "I've already started rewriting, but I'm going to need an extension."

"Wally's not going to be happy about this."

"It's not like I planned to drive off the side of a mountain."

"Of course not."

"I've never asked for an extension in the entire time we've worked together, Marianne. I need this."

"Okay. I'll talk to him. But Ivy, I don't know how much of an extension he can get you. They were counting on slotting you in for a summer release and you know how long the rest of the process takes. The only reason you've been able to get away with things this long is your first drafts tend to be so clean."

"I know. Just...do whatever you can, okay? I'm going head down and writing as fast as I can." A fresh flush of guilt crept over her. She hadn't done that. Not yet. She'd been enjoying a very sexy distraction.

"I'll call him now. If you can send me anything...anything at all. First chapter. First few chapters by tomorrow, it will give me more leverage."

"Tomorrow?" Ivy's stomach did a swoop. She had an outline now. One that she knew, deep down, would actually work. But tomorrow?

"I know you can do it. You're my rockstar."

Ivy blew out a breath. For just a moment, she considered telling more lies - anything to buy more time. But she'd done enough evading. "I'll do my best."

She said goodbye and hung up the phone, already feeling the pressure pressing down.

Harrison offered a rueful smile. "Playtime's over, huh?"

"Yeah." Knotting her hands she met his gaze. "I don't want it to be. But there's not a chance in hell I'll get this book written if I stay with you."

"Do you think you can write it now, away from me?"

She thought about the detailed outline she'd been weaving together for the last several days and didn't feel the trepidation and blankness that had gone alone with her previous attempts. "Yeah. This one's solid. Largely thanks to you."

He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Well, then I have a proposal."

"I'm listening."

"You came up here intending to take a room at the inn and write, right?"

"Yeah."

"So do that. Stick with the original plan. And for every, say, ten thousand words you knock out, you take a break to see me and get to ask another of your questions. By the end of the book, you'll have gotten in quite a few. Do you suppose that'd be sufficient motivation?"

He still wanted to see her. He wasn't ready for this to end either. Relief tempered the pressure building in her chest.

"Yeah, it would. But even with me writing my ass off, that's going to take some time."

Harrison leaned both elbows on the table. "That's fine. I'm not going anywhere."

To have him waiting for her on the other side of all this - and all the milestones between - was a greater gift than she'd expected to get. So she'd take it.

"Then I guess I'd better see if I can get a new reservation."