place and felt it pulse just beneath. A small beep sounded as a green checkmark filled the screen. Done. As in, too late to turn back now. That fact seemed to prod at parts of his insides. His muscles went tight. If only he hadn’t made that stupid bet.
But he couldn’t dwell on it forever. His stomach growled once more, reminding him of what he’d planned to do a moment ago.
“Now then,” he said, a bit relieved that was out of the way. “Let’s see what we can do about food, and maybe we’ll both be in a better state to talk this out. Sound good?”
She bit at her lip. “When you say see what we can do about food…”
“I mean send you into the storm with a bow and arrow,” he finished for her.
She laughed over her response. “Perfect.”
Chapter 6
Ivy pulled a set of small, bamboo spoons from the water bin and rested them on the table beside the soup tins. It was warm enough that they should dry off quickly, as Easton promised.
“So you’re telling me that, even though you were with two brothers and an older sister, you were the one to put the worm on the hook?” Easton’s eyes were wide with wonder.
“I really was the one. They were all too grossed out by it.” She let out a chuckle as he shook his head.
“So what happened once you caught the fish? Who took care of that part?”
For a split second she contemplated not answering that question, but her curiosity won out; she had to see his reaction to it. “We never caught anything.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, putting his hands out before him. “You had a pond with fish in it right next to your house.”
“Yep.”
“And all of this top of the line fishing gear…” he added.
Ivy gave him a nod. “Uh, huh.”
“And yet you never once caught a fish?”
“Never once.”
“Wow.”
She chuckled, appreciating his response.
“It almost hurts to hear that,” he admitted. “We would have starved if I hadn’t known how to fish. Makes me glad I do what I do.”
“I’m sure it does.” She gestured to the wash bin. “Should we dump this out or just leave it here?”
“Leave it,” he said with the jerk of his head. “Let’s come over by the fire.” Easton led the way, snatching a jar of sorts from his backpack and heading over. He scooted the bench toward the wall before resting the big bear rug in front of the fireplace once more.
“Why don’t you grab those spoons over there. I’ve got some dessert for us.”
“Dessert?” Her brows lifted as she grabbed the wooden spoons off the table and headed over to join him.
“I’ve got cinnamon rolls too,” he said, “but I figure we should save them.”
Ivy lowered herself onto the rug, enjoying the mood in the air. They’d built a level of camaraderie over dinner, and even flirted a bit with the sparks of chemistry she’d noticed earlier that day. She wouldn’t admit it any time soon, but Ivy had loved hearing Easton say that he didn’t want to go on the show.
She didn’t want him going on the show either. Or at least, the dreamer inside her didn’t want that. The part that believed—despite his disinterest in Looking For Love—that he might want to find love outside of that setting. Maybe he’d even want to find love with her beside the crackling fire and the blustering storm outside.
It was ideas like those that brought her back to more realistic thoughts. Ones that said a relationship between the two of them would probably never work out. Which, Ivy reminded herself, was fine by her; she wasn’t ready to start dating again.
It was amazing, the odd sense of peace she felt each time she clung onto that no-dating rule of hers. All fear, insecurities, and doubts took flight. Sadly, the determination also wiped out things like hope, potential, and delicious anticipation. Something she’d been enjoying just seconds ago.
Was it really worth the trade off?
“You ready to give these things a try?” Easton asked, pulling her out of her musings. He twisted the lid off the jar with a pop and gave it a whiff. “Whoa,” he cried with the shake of his head. “A few of these should keep us warm through the night.”
Ivy tilted her head, unsure of what he meant. It looked like a regular old jar of peaches like her mom canned every year. “What kind of peaches are they?” she ventured, handing over one