Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince Page 0,17

they could let me know when the next girls’ night was happening.

I wasn’t used to women being so upfront and friendly. The few friends I had back in Richmond—including Krista—had spent most of their time bad-mouthing the others when they weren’t around. I wasn’t naïve enough to think they hadn’t said nasty things about me when I wasn’t there, and I was sure they were having a field day now that Krista had stepped into my former life with no problem at all. But what little I knew of these two Hope Valley women, I liked. Sylvia was a fantastic judge of character, so if she said they were good people, they were good people. And I liked the idea of a girls’ night, especially if it was with women who weren’t backstabbing gossips who’d known my husband was screwing around and had kept it from me the entire time.

“Well,” my aunt said on a sigh as the door closed behind Nona and Eden, “I’d say that went over just fine, wouldn’t you? Those ladies are good eggs. You’ll fit right in.”

I looked at her and cocked a brow. “So, in the span of a few minutes, you’ve already scheduled a party and worked your magic to find me new friends?”

“Sounds about right.”

“You’re a little crazy,” I said on a giggle. “You know that, right.”

“Of course I do,” she declared, shooting me a sly wink. “And isn’t it so much fun?”

It absolutely was.

After two weeks in our new home, everything had been going great . . . with one glaring exception. It was Friday afternoon, and Alex was scheduled to arrive at any second to pick Ivy up for his weekend visit.

This would be my first full weekend in Hope Valley without my baby girl, and I’d been a walking bundle of anxiety all day long, dreading the moment I had to hand her over.

The doorbell rang, followed less than a second later by Ivy’s high-pitched shriek. “Daddy’s here!” she screamed as her little feet pattered down the hall. “Mommy! Daddy’s here! Daddy’s here!”

I managed to paste a smile on my face even though my heart was shriveling like old fruit. “You think so, love bug?”

She started hopping in place. Since it was just the two of us most of the time now, I’d stopped dressing her like all the other kids in our circle of friends back in Richmond and let her pick her own clothes. Today she was wearing a pair of tiny pink Converse sneakers, black jeans with bright pink, yellow, and purple daisies embroidered around the cuffs that went all the way up to her knees, and a matching pink shirt. Her long, curly red hair was hanging loose and wild down to the small of her back. She looked absolutely adorable, and it was taking everything I had not to burst into tears.

“Yeah, Mommy. I know it’s him! It’s gots to be.”

“Well then why don’t we open the door and see?”

“Okay, yeah! Do it now!”

I gave her one last grin before turning to the door and schooling my features in preparation for facing my ex-husband. Taking a fortifying breath, I twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

Alex looked the same as he always did, and I couldn’t help but wonder when seeing him would finally stop feeling like a punch to the stomach. His dirty-blond hair was parted at the side like he always wore it, brushed up and back from his forehead. He was still in his suit from work, but the tie and jacket had been discarded, the top button at his collar undone, and the sleeves cuffed. I used to love it when he came home looking like that, still sexy in his suit but a little mussed in a way that made him even hotter. Now I was comparing everything about him to Micah, a man I was never going to see again.

“Hey there, my little monkey.” He squatted low and opened his arms, picking Ivy up and tossing her in the air until she squealed.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said once he settled her onto his hip. “Can we gets ice cream for supper?” she asked with her adorable little toddler voice that turned all her Rs into Ws.

“Not for supper. But maybe dessert,” he added at the end when she began to pout, making her smile big once again.

“Yay!”

While he gave her a tickle, I let my eyes drift, unable to watch the interchange between them without hurting. My gaze