Page 6 of Moonlight & Matrimony (Oak Ridge #2)

Luca

? Sweet Creature - Harry Styles

S he’s everywhere, and I can’t seem to shake this prickling sensation every time she catches me staring.

I don’t know what the fuck came over me that had me dropping to one knee on the pavement — insanity maybe — but we haven’t spoken since.

I’m not a complete dumbass; I’m well aware she’s been avoiding me after what has to be the least romantic proposal in history.

Unloading the last of my tools into the workshop, I head back to the truck and slam the tailgate, hearing a startled squeak from somewhere to my left.

I glance over my shoulder, spotting a familiar set of blue eyes staring back at me from the tree swing.

A rush of concern swamps me as Rylin pumps her legs, propelling her forward and back with no Ivy in sight.

“Hey big brother,” Paige says, waving at me from Ivy’s front porch.

“Fucking hell. You scared the shit out of me.”

Rylin giggles. “Bad words, Mr. Luca.”

“Yeah, Mr. Luca ,” Paige snorts, emphasizing the nickname I can't seem to shake with unrestrained amusement on her face. “Watch your mouth around the tiny humans.”

I glance around the yard, searching for Ivy, and the move doesn’t go unnoticed as my sister approaches.

“She’s not here. I’m babysitting while she’s out making a delivery.” She gives me an assessing stare. “You crushing on my bestie, big brother?” she asks.

“What? No. I was only concerned about Rylin being out here on her own.”

“Uh huh. A likely story,” she teases. “Ivy’s a catch. You’d be lucky as fuck to be with her. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t remind you to be nice to my fucking friend or I’ll cut your balls off.”

“It’s not like that at all. I swear.” I hold out my hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just worried after the whole —”

I don’t have to finish my sentence. Paige gives me a solemn nod.

“Keep an eye on them for me, will you? She’s strong as fuck, but I get the sense there’s more shit than she’s letting on.

And I need to know someone has her back since I’m carrying around this watermelon.

” She absentmindedly smooths a hand over her belly.

“I’ve got them,” I assure her. “Ivy has my number in case anything happens.”

“Good.”

Rylin grunts in frustration as her swing comes to a stop. “Need a push?” I ask. Rylin’s face lights up at my offer as she nods excitedly. My hand engulfs her back as I give her a gentle push forward.

“Faster!” she demands.

I give her another push, this time a little more forceful. She lets out a squeal as my sister watches us from the tree stump. Her speed picks up, along with her excited squeals. “Look, Auntie Paige! I’m flying!”

“You sure are, Ry.”

I watch as she uses her legs to keep up the momentum, and once I’m sure she’s got the hang of it, I take several steps closer to my sister.

“That girl thinks you’re the best thing since sliced bread,” she says.

I smile, taking in the excitement on Rylin’s face as she flies. “I think she’s pretty great, too,” I admit. “I’ll never understand how anyone could mistreat them.”

Paige nods, giving my arm a squeeze. “You’ll be a great husband and father someday.”

“Nah. That’s not in the cards for me.” Paige frowns in confusion and I’m thrust back into memories of a past long dead and buried.

Thoughts of a future and a family all but evaporated after everything with Sienna came crashing down.

At 34, I thought I’d be married with at least one on the way by now.

Instead, I’m starting over in a small town, watching my sister live out the life I dreamed of having — a life I could never begrudge her.

The unwanted thoughts instantly dissipate when Sienna’s face flashes on my phone screen. I quickly swipe the notification away, and rush to my workshop — the one place where I can tune out the world, erasing any desire for things I can’t have.

Ivy

I won’t lie — I’ve been avoiding Luca like the plague, remaining distant but pleasant, smiling and waving politely whenever I run into him around town.

Rylin is smitten and takes every opportunity to brag about our new neighbor.

Unfortunately, he’ll be unavoidable today, since we’re both attending Paige’s baby shower.

When I arrive at the cabin two hours early to help decorate, Luca is already there trying to diffuse the Cade-shaped bomb that’s about to go off if Paige doesn’t sit down and relinquish control.

Cade watches me with pleading eyes as I approach his wife. “Paige, honey. Can you help me in the kitchen?” I’m speaking as gently as I can, knowing how fragile her emotions have been lately. She’s constantly a hair pin trigger away from dissolving into tears.

“Sure!” she says with exaggerated enthusiasm. She playfully sticks her tongue out at her husband before trailing behind me into the kitchen.

“Ok. So. I got all the stuff you wanted for the platter. Sit. I’ll wash and you can chop.”

“I see how it is… pander to the pregnant woman while you find a way to get her to sit down so you can take over.” She rolls her eyes dramatically, but there’s a slight smile forming. “I’m onto you, Ivy Jo.”

“I regret ever telling you my middle name,” I say, not an ounce of genuine irritation in my voice.

“Seriously, Paige. Nobody here is licensed to help you give birth, and your husband is about one inconvenience away from jumping in the lake. Just relax and let the rest of us fuss over the details. Once she’s no longer residing in your body, you can get back to micromanaging everyone. ”

“Fine. I guess you have a point.”

“Everything ok in here?” A chill skates up my spine at the sound of Luca’s husky voice.

I don’t understand why he has this effect on me.

Ok, maybe I understand it a little. He’s dressed like a lumbersnack again with jeans that hug his ass in all the right ways, and it should be illegal to look that good in flannel.

Paige narrows her eyes at me, then resumes cutting up a bell pepper a little more forcibly than necessary. “Maybe we should take away the sharp objects,” I deadpan.

Luca snorts out a laugh, and his sister responds with a disapproving scowl.

I carefully extricate the knife from Paige’s grasp, dismissing her with a wave. “Take your cute little bump upstairs and get yourself ready. Luca and I can handle this on our own.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst,” she grumbles as she carefully slides off the stool.

“Love you too, bestie!” With one hand on her lower back, she raises the other, flipping me off as she waddles down the hallway. Once she’s out of sight, I turn to Luca. “Are you ok with sharp objects, or is it a family trait I should be concerned about?”

“I can hold my own in the kitchen,” he says, rounding the island to stand at my side, his hip lightly bumping against me.

My body reacts to the brief contact like a bitch in heat.

“Tell me what you want, Ivy,” he says, his tone laced with innuendo.

Suddenly the room feels as though it’s 110 degrees and I can’t get out of there fast enough.

After giving him explicit instructions on how Paige wanted everything arranged, I take the opportunity presented, putting as much distance as possible between me and Luca.

Time passes in a blur as I put the finishing touches on the decor. The back deck is stunning with wildflowers scattered around the area — a callback to Paige and Cade’s wedding. I’m just getting done greeting all the newcomers when a commotion erupts behind me. “Mags! You’re here!” Paige squeals.

“You act as if you had no idea I was coming,” she laughs, pulling her bestie into a tight hug.

Paige and Maggie were best friends and roommates before she moved here from Toronto.

It took some convincing, but eventually we came to a bipartisan agreement to share the title.

Recently, there have been talks about Maggie moving to the area post graduation, but she’s still hesitant, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why she’s holding back.

A familiar voice interrupts their reunion, and Maggie’s nostrils flare. “Hey there, Wildcat.”

“Misery has arrived,” she deadpans.

Miles Barlow and Maggie Watson couldn’t be more different if they tried.

Where Maggie is short and slender, with very few curves, Miles is tall and broad, with muscles like a Norse god.

Her long wavy brown locks and honey brown eyes are a stark contrast to his messy blonde hair and striking baby blues.

Maggie’s style is what you might call whimsical thrift store chic, whereas Miles looks like he just stepped out of the latest issue of GQ.

Dramatic as ever, Miles stumbles backwards like he’s been shot. “You don’t mean that,” he teases.

“Oh, I very much do.” She rolls her eyes before her gaze lands on me. “Hey, Ivy,” she says as she wraps me in a one-armed hug, the other arm laden with gift bags. “Is Rylin here? I figured the little munchkin would’ve tackled me by now.”

“She’s with Evie today. She gets overstimulated in larger crowds, so she’s sitting this one out. But she made me promise to give Auntie Paige a special gift.”

“Aww,” Paige coos, her hand stroking lightly over her bump.

“My sweet Ry Ry. I love that girl so much.” I smile.

Most days, I feel like a failure, wishing I could give Rylin a better dad and a bigger family, but when I see how much love we have in our chosen circle, it makes every sacrifice worthwhile.

“Don’t get too excited,” I warn. “There’s only so much a 4-year-old can do with a paintbrush and some watercolors.

” Rylin insisted on painting a special portrait for the nursery, complete with what I think is supposed to be a cat, but it could also be an elephant — the jury is still out, but I know better than to ask.