Page 20 of Catch Me (Townsend Legacy #4)

A ndreas

A wave of anticipation crashes through me when the elevator bell buzzes a second before opening. There are only two apartments on the floor of this building, granting me more privacy.

I scan my thumbprint, and a beat later the door lock disengages. In an instant I’m greeted by the purring of a grey furball with the brightest and biggest pair of cerulean eyes I’ve ever seen on a cat.

“You must be Ms. Shelby.” I squat to let her sniff my hand before petting the top of her head.

I chuckle when she meows.

“I think she likes you,” Ivy’s voice floats to my ears, sending a chill down my spine.

My eyes find her sock-covered feet first. I drag my gaze up the length of her body, prolonging the moment that I locked my gaze on hers.

“I hope she’s not the only one.” I read the smile on her face as a good thing, but there’s confusion in those coffee brown irises.

“What’s that look in your eyes?”

Her forehead wrinkles for a beat. “How can you tell what I’m thinking already?”

I shake my head before responding. “I can't, which is why I asked. But I can see you’re confused about something.”

She chuckles, but it’s devoid of humor. “You think?” Ivy spreads her arms and looks around, indicating the rest of my home. “This is a little insane, right? Me being in your house. Your massive home, by the way.”

Her eyes narrow. “And the fact that you basically kidnapped me to get me here.”

“Kidnapped? Me?” I press a hand to my chest in mock offense. “All I did was have a driver pick you up in a luxury vehicle because you hate driving, especially in rush hour traffic.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “The part about traffic is true, but you forgot to mention Spencer’s a trained security guard. Did you know he has federal governmental clearance?”

I did in fact know that, but I keep that to myself for now.

“On top of that,” Ivy continues, “you conspired with my best friend to get into my apartment to get Ms. Shelby.”

I stoop down to pet the cat who’s now rubbing her side body against my leg. “That was a nice touch, huh?”

Ivy’s eyes narrow but there’s a twinkle in them.

She pushes out a harsh breath. “Ms. Shelby can be tricky when it comes to new people.”

“I’ve heard,” I say, grinning as the aforementioned cat purrs in satisfaction while I stroke the top of her head.

“Animals are supposed to be a good judge of character.”

“Did I fail to mention that all pets love me?” I rise to my full height and take a step closer, coming within arms’ reach of her.

“True story?” She tilts her head sideways in a move that’s so damn cute my heart squeezes.

“I get it from my dad. Animals love the guy.”

“Your home is beautiful.” She looks around. “I peeked in your library. It’s impressive. I bet your mom’s proud. How many books are in there?” she asks, referring to the home library I’ve built up in the past three years I’ve lived in this condo.

“Not a lot. About five hundred,” I say with a shrug.

“That’s not a lot?” she asks sarcastically.

“It’s nothing compared to the library I plan to build once I buy a house.” A home library is a must in any home I live in.

Grinning, she shakes her head. “I bet it’ll be stunning.”

I move in and cup her face with both of my hands. “Enough of the pleasantries.”

When she doesn’t resist or pull back, I bring her lips to meet mine. A total body sigh releases from me as our lips meet. A tension I’ve been holding onto releases.

I sense the exact moment Ivy falls into the kiss.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I devour the sweetness of her mouth, a wave of heat washing over me. But it’s the moment she lets out a tiny moan that my life flashes before my eyes.

Not of the past, though. The scene that plays in my mind’s eye like a motion picture is of the future.

Our future.

The images are so startling that I’m forced to break the kiss.

When I stare down into Ivy’s dazed eyes, I wonder if she saw the same thing as me.

I don’t ask that, though, knowing for someone who was so reluctant to even come over to my place for dinner a few hours ago, all of what I want to say would have her running for the hills.

I realize that something in my mind switches. She’s no longer my obsession, but my future.

Ivy’s stomach begins to growl, interrupting the silence. She presses a hand to her stomach, embarrassed.

My frown is instantaneous. “You haven’t eaten dinner?”

She shakes her head. “I felt bad eating in your home, knowing you were working late.”

My eyes move to the clock above the TV in my living room. “It’s almost ten o’clock,” I grumble.

Without another word, I grab her hand and bring her into the kitchen.

“Sit.”

She hesitates until I point.

“We’re going to eat.”

Minutes later, both of us sit around plates filled with Chinese dumplings, rice, and steamed vegetables, eating happily.

“When you’re hungry, you need to eat,” I say, only after ensuring she’s eaten at least half of her plate.

She rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t starving myself or anything. I wanted to wait until you were here.”

Though her words warm my chest, I hold the frown on my face. “I don’t like the idea of you being hungry. Especially not when there’s plenty of food available.”

A memory from my childhood of my father frowning at my mom because she’d waited until he got home from work one night so they could eat dinner together surfaces. She’d fed all of us kids, of course.

We’d all gone up to our rooms, but I’d come down for something to drink.

My dad had my mother on his lap, feeding her from his plate, all the while chastising her for not eating. Then she plucked the fork from his hand and fed him from the same plate while rolling her eyes and telling him she’d do whatever she wanted.

He grumbled, but they finished the entire meal like that. One feeding the other from the same fork.

I catch Ivy’s eyes from across the table, a smile playing at my lips.

“What?” she asks, giving me a suspicious look.

“Just thinking of the future.”

Her eyebrows raise.

“I have either sorbet or ice cream for dessert,” I say to change the subject.

“What flavors?”

“I’ve got raspberry sorbet, and rocky road, chocolate chip cookie dough, strawberry or vanilla bean ice cream.”

“Having a party?”

I chuckle. “I don’t eat many sweets, but when I want something, I typically go for sorbet. When I host the book club, my friends rag on me for my too healthy options.” I use quotation fingers around the words ‘too healthy’.

“So, now I keep a few options of ice cream in the freezer for them. But for tonight, I had my assistant stock my freezer with freshly bought ice cream.”

“I’ll have the cookie dough.”

I jut my head to the living room. “Make yourself comfortable while I spoon out the bowls.”

Soon, we’re on my couch with our dessert bowls in hand.

“How was filming today?” she asks, looking up at me. We’re both sitting with our bodies turned toward one another. Her legs are tucked underneath her, one arm propped over the back of the couch. She looks comfortable.

Having her here feels right.

“Long.”

She grins. “That’s it?”

I shake my head before swallowing a spoonful of my dessert. “To be honest, filming is going great. Quicker than we all expected. The entire cast works together so well.” I pause before my next statement.

“Something wrong?”

“The opposite,” I answer without thinking. “Everything about this film feels right. From the cast and crew, the scenes coming together almost seamlessly to …” I trail off, lifting my eyes to meet hers, “meeting you.”

Not until I speak those words out loud do I register that what I’ve said is the truth. Everything about this movie has gone well. From the casting, to pre-production, and filming. But especially meeting the woman I know will have a major impact on the rest of my life.

Ivy clears her throat at the same time she breaks eye contact with me. “But something’s nagging at you.”

She changes the subject slightly, but she’s dead on the mark.

“You know when things are going almost too well. Like you know the other shoe’s about to drop?”

“More than I wish I knew.” Her words are so low that if it weren’t for my excellent hearing I would’ve missed it.

I move in closer before placing my half-eaten bowl on the coffee table and taking hers to do the same. I grasp Ivy’s hand.

She watches her hand in mine for a beat before asking, “What’s the shoe?”

A smile crests over my lips. I squeeze her hands lightly because I like the way they feel in mine. Ivy leans forward, interested in what I have to say.

She holds her gaze on me as if I have her total and complete attention. It’s the honest concern in her eyes that makes having her attention completely different from everyone else’s.

“There’s a scene.”

“The breaking windows scene,” she says.

“That’s the one.”

In the scene, Shawn, the main character, has a complete and total meltdown. But it’s also his ‘come to Jesus’ moment. The same scene I’ve worked on tirelessly with Victor.

I’m ready for it, but I also want to nail it more than anything I’ve done in my career up until this point.

“It’s going to be an intense one,” she says when I tell her as much.

I nod. “Every scene we’ve filmed so far is building up to this moment. The thing is, it’s easy to overact this type of emotional scene. I’ve seen it done countless times. Yet, I don’t want to play it so subtle that I fail to convey the seriousness of the moment.”

“You won’t.”

Her words surprise me. Not the actual words, but the conviction in them.

“Can I make a confession?” She looks up at me between her eyelashes, all bashful and cute, which makes me want to do very nasty, uncute things to her.

I move closer, wrapping my arms around her and positioning her body so that her back is against my chest. Then I run the tips of my fingers along her jawline and neck, loving the way her body trembles in response.

“I’ve watched you.” Her voice comes out in a whisper. “On set. Sometimes when I have a break, I sneak onto the set to watch filming.”

“I’ve never seen you.”

She laughs. “I’ve only done it a handful of times, and I hide in the corner to stay out of the way. Anyway …” She sits up and turns to me.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete fangirl, but you’re amazing in this role. I mean, I’m not an acting critic or anything, but the little bit I have seen makes me want to tell everyone about this film, especially how good you are in it.”

Ivy places a hand to my chest. “That scene will be everything you want it to be and more because of who you are. Trust yourself.”

Her gaze dips before she starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” She holds up a hand, still laughing. “I just reminded myself of my therapist. She’s always telling me to believe in myself more. To?—”

She stops suddenly. Alarm freezes her features as if she didn’t mean to reveal what she just said.

Ivy clears her throat.

“Believing in yourself doesn’t come easy, does it?” I ask to ease the tension now forming in her body. “Sometimes it takes work. Speaking of, I have something for you.”

I place a kiss on her forehead before rising from the couch. I hadn’t planned to give her this now, but the timing feels right.