My throat tightened. This was the way it should have been. I shouldn’t have let people’s words and my past come between us.
He had been right.
I should have been honest with him. I should have allowed him to reject me instead of giving up on us without a fight.
Matty looked at me over the crown of her head. “Finish your shopping. We’ll wait for you. Won’t we, Ivy?”
Ivy nodded. “Ivy wait wi-wif?—”
“Matt,” he said softly. “If you’re going to stay with me, then no more Mr. Customer. You call me Matt, and I’ll call you Ivy. Or do you want me to call you Bug like your daddy does?”
Ivy giggled, wrinkling her nose. “I no buh.” She touched herself. “Ivy.” She reached out and patted his cheek with her sticky hand. “Mah.”
She butchered his name, forgetting the last consonant, and sounded like she was calling Matt ‘ma’, but Matty didn’t seem to mind.
Why did he tell her to call him Matt instead of Matty? I was the only one who called him that. Was it because the name was shorter and easier to pronounce?
“Go on, then.” Matty checked his watch. “Finish your shopping, or Ivy and I will have ice cream on our own.”
For the first time all day, something in my chest loosened.
Maybe I didn’t know where I stood with Matty. Maybe I was still messing up left and right. But Ivy seemed to trust him. She clung to him. And the day had been stressful. Maybe I kind of needed to too.
12
MATTY
Ivy was nestled against my chest like she’d always belonged there.
Her arms were looped around my neck, soft and warm and trusting, her little fingers tangled in the back of my shirt like she didn’t plan on letting go. As I walked, she hummed, a quiet, tuneless sound that vibrated through my collarbone and down into my chest. Every few steps, she’d swing her legs like she was riding an invisible horse and pat my cheek with one hand.
Pat. Hum. Pat. Hum.
God, she was cute.
And I was so screwed.
After everything with Hudson—after the lake, after what we’d done—I’d told myself I’d made a huge mistake. I’d driven out of town to a last-minute cattle auction to clear my damn head. But the first thing I saw when I came back into Bristlecone Springs? Hudson, walking into the supermarket with Ivy’s tiny hand curled in his.
I should’ve turned around. Walked the hell away.
But instead, like a goddamn idiot, I followed them inside.
Minutes later, I’d found Ivy alone, staring up at the candy dispenser with the intensity of someone making a wish. The second she spotted me, her whole face lit up—like I was something special—and I couldn’t walk away from that.
Didn’t even try.
I’d sighed, dug out a couple of quarters, and bought her the ring pop.
And now she was here. In my arms. The daughter of the woman who took my man away. But also a part of him, and because of that, I couldn’t hate her. Even if I still wasn’t clear about where I stood with her father or what I wanted from him.
Hudson and I had had sex, but what now? He’d asked me that question after, and I was no closer to knowing the answer.
While waiting for Hudson, we strolled past the bakery section, and she perked up immediately, nose twitching like a little bunny as her wide eyes locked on the rows of cakes. I slowed, shifting her a little higher in my arms, and she leaned forward, fascinated, ring pop no longer in her mouth.
“You like cake, Ivy?” I asked.
She nodded. “Bakin’ cake. Not eatin’.”
