He slips back inside, leaving the door slightly ajar, and Ivy moves to lean beside me at the railing. The moment stretches, soft and full.
“I feel bad,” she says softly. “Dragging you into my loud, chaotic family like this.”
I turn to her, shaking my head. “Ivy… I’ve never wanted anything more. This chaos? This love? It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Her breath catches before she leans in, her forehead pressing to mine. “You really mean that?”
“Every word.” I kiss her slow, savoring it, and when she pulls back she’s smiling through the shimmer in her eyes.
“Best. Chaos. Ever.”
I lean in, brushing my nose against hers. “I love you Ivy.”
And right there, in Ashen Mills, outside of a house full of love, it feels like everything that’s ever hurt in both of us is finally starting to heal.
Chapter 39
Ivy
We walk side by side through downtown Dallas, the city lights soft yet bright, the air cool but not cold—that perfect December evening in Texas where you don’t need a jacket but you’re glad for the excuse to stay close.
Dinner had been easy, so easy and filled with laughter and stolen glances that made my heart race even after all this time.
We’d tucked into a cozy booth at one of Gray’s favorite little spots downtown.
He listened, hanging on every word as I told him how I’d finally done it—how I’d set my baptism date for just after the New Year.
“I wanted to wait until the Christmas rush was over,” I’d explained, fingers tracing the rim of my glass, “so I can really take it in. So I can remember it.”
Gray’s eyes had softened, his hand reaching across the table to lace his fingers with mine.
“You’re going to remember it, Ivy,” he’d said, voice low, full of that quiet confidence I’ve come to love. “Because it’s not just a date. It’s yours. Your moment with Him.”
And just like that, any lingering nerves melted away.
The rest of dinner passed in a haze of soft teasing, shared bites of dessert, and quiet looks that said more than either of us dared.
By the time we stepped out into the crisp night air, my heart felt full.
As we turn the corner, I pause in front of a shop window—the glow of neon letters spelling out:TATTOOS & PIERCINGScatches my eye.
I linger at the window, studying the designs, fascinated.
Gray stops with me, his hand resting lightly on my back. I glance up at him, noticing again the way his tattoos peek from beneath his shirt collar, curling up the side of his neck.
“Can you just…walk in and get a tattoo?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
He laughs, that low, easy sound that always makes me smile. “Well, yeah. If they’ve got an open spot. If not, you make an appointment. Why?” He grins down at me, eyes dancing. “Thinking about getting one?”
I lift my chin, playful but serious. “Yeah, actually. I am.”
His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Ohhh, you are speaking my love language now.”
Before I can backpedal or overthink it, he grabs my hand and pulls me gently toward the door.
“Gray!” I protest, laughing, but I let him lead me inside.
The shop smells faintly of antiseptic and ink, the walls lined with bold designs, the buzz of a machine steady in the background.
