Garrett

Thankfully, the cop had only pulled over to do a welfare check. He hadn't witnessed us having sex, but as soon as he pulled away, Ivy and I laughed until we cried. Holding her hand in mine as I resumed our trip, my heart swelled with happiness, and every time I glanced over at her, those full lips of hers curved up in a small smile.

The rest of the drive flew by as we indulged in idle chatter. Mostly about favorite movies or about whether Marvel or DC was better. We ended that in a stalemate. But the moment I drove up to the cabin, she went silent. Talking was apparently difficult to do with your mouth hanging open.

I had to admit. The cabin was impressive. Three stories with an entire wall of windows facing the mountains, a wrap-around porch, and gas lanterns casting a soft glow on every corner. This place was a sanctuary designed by my brothers and me, and I would never tire of its beauty.

"Ivy, you good?"

"You and your brothers have the audacity to refer to this as camping?" She finally spit out as she jumped out of the car.

"Hey. During our brother trips, we only stay a few nights here if the weather is bad. Otherwise, we rough it in tents. The cabin is mostly for family-get-togethers with our moms."

She slowed and looked over her shoulder. "Moms?"

"Is that a problem?" I arched a brow. Ivy didn't strike me as the conservative type, but people could surprise you.

Disgust twisted her lips, and she rolled her eyes. "Don't provoke me. No, it's not a problem. I was just thinking you'd left out that detail when you were talking about your family earlier."

Winking at her, I grabbed our bags and pressed a kiss on top of her dark head as I walked by her and up the front porch. The bags hit the wooden boards with a thud as I fished the keys out of my pocket. She waited patiently for me to open the door, but I could see the curiosity brewing behind her eyes.

"My father apparently had a thing for collecting families. Or maybe starting families is a better way to put it. About ten years ago, I did one of those DNA kits, and I got three hits. Three half brothers. We were all just a year or two apart, and we met up. Turns out we had a lot in common, and we decided that just because our old man didn't want us, it didn't mean we couldn't be a family."

"That's amazing," Ivy said with a sigh.

"It has been. Apparently, our dad had a type, so our moms all hit it off, too. We built this place a couple of years ago so we could have a nice space to visit each other. I think the moms use it more than we do. They sneak away for book club, which is just a classy way to say they come here and drink all weekend."

"Hey. Wine and books are all any girl needs to have a good time."

Deciding I could carry the bags to the room later, I switched on the gas fireplace and headed to the kitchen to make hot chocolate. Ivy trailed after me, taking everything in and looking like she belonged here.

"I didn't take you as a reader," I said, pouring milk into a pot.

She winced, then cleared her throat. "I'm just full of surprises."

"Here."

I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the living room. The amber glow of sunlight lit up the cozy space, but it wouldn't last for long. Steely gray clouds swollen with snow crept over the horizon. But Ivy didn't see any of that. The wall of books took her attention.

"Pick anything you'd like." A light pink spine caught my eye, and I took it down. "Here you go. Mr. Wrong Number by I.L. Wilson, but I bet you've already read it."

She blushed deeply and snatched it from my hands. "You buy Iris' books?"

We went back to the kitchen to check on the milk, and I shrugged, embarrassed to admit the truth. That I had been curious about what kind of men she wrote about. So, I went with a half truth.

"My mom loves romance books. It was a win-win. Support Iris and give my mom a present. She ended up obsessed, and now she owns the entire series. She said she heard a new one is coming out..."

Ivy looked up from the book. Her expression was oddly guilty. "Yeah. I think she mentioned she was working through the edits."

"How about we take this hot chocolate, curl up on the couch in front of the fire, and you can read to me out loud? Make sure you don't skip the spicy bits."

She didn't look very enthusiastic about my idea. "Well, that tells me you didn't read it. It's fade to black."

"Fade to what?"

"Fade to black. The sex happens off the page."

"Hmm..." I handed her a steaming mug. "Then how about you read until we get to the first fade to black scene, and we can act out what we think happened?"

That idea received a lot more enthusiasm. She rushed to the living room, and I followed behind her, laughing.