Snowed In For Christmas: A Fun Feel-Good Holiday Romance Novel - Kimberly Krey Page 0,53

empty house while they returned to their families?

Tears clouded her eyes at the thought.

“We better hurry and finish our food, guys,” Jackie blurted. Her tone sounded so urgent that Ivy started digging into her soup as well. She didn’t want to go to the show tonight on an empty stomach. But a few bites into her food, Ivy felt a small pat on her leg from her sister.

A soothing one that said Jackie saw the pain she was in. That she was sorry for it. And that she’d provided a distraction to take the focus off of her. Ivy placed a hand over Jackie’s and gave it a squeeze. Thank heavens for sisters.

Tonight, it was very unlikely that Ivy would see Easton, which was a heartbreaking fact in itself. But even worse was the fact that—if he did show—Easton would give a live interview for two minutes tops before heading into a mansion where five women would try everything in their power to get a proposal out of him.

There was no third option. But at least one thing could be said. Ivy might go home alone once the evening was through, but whatever the hours might bring, whatever the night might reveal, she’d have her sisters by her side.

Chapter 18

Nausea rolled through Easton as he tossed from his shoulder onto his back.

Ivy hadn’t sent in the contract. Her coworker had.

He clenched his eyes shut tighter and shrugged onto his other side. Napping in the middle of the day had never been his specialty, but Easton needed the sleep. He’d had hardly any rest since the time he’d arrived, and his mind was starting to slip. Besides, if he could manage to ignore the daylight and fall fast asleep, perhaps he could avoid the temptation to leave the campsite and do something…something the stubborn part of him didn’t want to do.

Do everyone a favor and take care of the situation by tonight. Has to be tonight.

Easton groaned and gave his stow-away pillow a couple of shoves at each corner, hoping a little comfort might lull him into sleep.

What did you do to poor Ivy? She burst into tears at the sight of your picture.

Please call, Easton. I’m sick to my stomach. I don’t want to lose what we have.

Lose what they had. That was the biggest enigma of all. That was the unsolvable mystery that had kept him up every night since he left. Which said something since this—sleeping in tents beneath the sky—this used to be his haven, his happy place, his refuge no matter the storm.

Now it seemed his only refuge was in thoughts of Ivy. In recollections of holding her in his arms. Of kissing her silky lips. Of laughing at her family tales and goofy jokes.

His heart thundered as—vision after vision, memory after memory—the torment multiplied. Ivy’s solemn text played out in the sound of her voice in his mind, a prodding, pressing repeat that had him shrugging onto his stomach and forcing the pillow over his head.

Don’t want to lose what we have.

Don’t want to lose what we have.

But now it’s too late, Easton, he could hear her saying. You won’t even listen to what I have to say. You’re punishing me for something I didn’t even do. Thanks for proving that the other men in my life were right all along. Thanks for making it that much harder to trust.

Another groan tore through him as he sat up and reached for the bag at his side. The zipper was cool beneath his touch. He grabbed the small tab and tugged it open, then pulled the phone from its pouch. It took a moment for it to power on, but once it did, Easton saw that it was only 4:00.

This day was never going to end. Sure, the sun had already started to set, but was he really willing to stick it out for the whole night? He’d promised himself to sleep on it. It being the messages he’d gotten from Ivy and Marsha Langston. But if sleeping was not in the cards, how could he achieve that?

His mind must have been one step ahead of him. Already Easton was reaching for his socks and shoes. He shoved into them before unzipping his tent and climbing out. He was about to pack up all of his gear when he thought better of it. Call first.

A red-tailed hawk cawed overhead, drawing his attention to the colorful sunset in the distance. The reflection of light caused the pink