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Chapter Forty-Two

IVY

I should freeze.

I should panic.

Because this moment? It’s exactly what I’ve been dreading.

A public ambush. A journalist with an agenda. Me and Jackson—front and center.

But instead?

Something snaps into place.

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m pregnant and hormonal and so damn tired of people acting like I’m some kind of scandal.

Maybe it’s the way Jackson’s hand tightens around mine, like he’s already gearing up to throw himself in front of me.

Or maybe?

Maybe it’s just that I love him.

And I refuse to let some reporter turn that into clickbait.

So I take a slow sip of my sparkling water.

Then I set my glass down, lean back in my chair, and lift my chin.

“Kara,” I say smoothly. “Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Kara smirks, her red lips curving in victory. “I could say the same, Ivy. But I guess mystery woman isn’t quite the title anymore, huh?”

I arch a brow. “I mean, you came here to interrupt a private dinner, so I’d say the mystery was already solved.”

Kara’s eyes flicker with something sharp.

Jackson tenses beside me. “Ivy, you don’t have to?—”

I press my fingers against his.

I got this.

Kara doesn’t miss it. “Aww, protective already? That’s sweet. So, tell me—what’s it like? Dating one of the most high-profile coaches in the league? Must be a whirlwind.”

I smile, cool and steady. “It’s not about the headlines. It’s about the person.”

Her brow quirks. “And you’re okay with all this attention?”

I shrug. “I’m a teacher. I spend my days with fourth graders. This? This is nothing.”

Kara actually blinks.

Like she wasn’t expecting that.

Jackson lets out a quiet chuckle beside me.

Kara recovers quickly. “Right. Well, what do you say to those who think this relationship is just…a little too convenient? ”

Jackson’s jaw clenches.

I tilt my head. “I’d say that sounds exhausting.”

She frowns. “Excuse me?”

“Spending all that time trying to turn something real into some kind of conspiracy.” I smile sweetly. “Must be tiring.”

Kara’s completely thrown now.

I feel Jackson’s pride radiating off him.

Kara narrows her eyes. “So, you’re saying there’s no scandal. No secrets. No drama?”

I rest my hand on my belly. “Just a baby who’s going to be really lucky to have Jackson Knox as his dad.”

Jackson inhales sharply beside me.

For the first time tonight, Kara seems…lost for words.

She stares at me. Then at Jackson.

Then, slowly, she nods. “Well then.” She forces a smile. “Congratulations.”

And with that?

She walks away.

I release a slow breath.

Jackson is staring at me.

“Ivy.” His voice is rough. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “I blacked out. What happened?”

Jackson just shakes his head, grinning.

Then he pulls me into his lap, right there in the middle of our private rooftop dinner, and kisses me senseless.

I gasp into his mouth, my fingers curling into his shirt as he pulls me closer, his grip firm, his body hot and solid beneath me.

God.

I barely spoke a few words. But the way he’s looking at me right now is like I just won him the damn Super Bowl.

It makes something deep in my stomach tighten.

Jackson groans, his hand sliding down my waist, gripping my thigh beneath the slit of my dress.

“You’re so fucking hot when you do that.”

I shiver. “When I do what?”

“When you stand up for yourself. When you put people in their place. When you’re so fucking strong.” His fingers dig in, pulling me flush against him. “I should’ve bent you over this table the second she walked away.”

A small sound escapes my throat, half laugh, half moan.

“Jackson.”

He smirks, brushing his nose against mine, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper.

“Kidding. Obviously other people do come up here. We should probably eat.”

I swallow, acutely aware of the way his fingers are tracing slow, lazy circles on my thigh.

“We should.”

Neither of us move.

Heat pools low in my belly, dangerously fast, because I know that look in his eyes.

The same look that ruined me on Friday night.

The same look that completely destroyed me Saturday morning.

The same look that says, I need you. Now.

“Or. I should take you home.” His breath is warm against my cheek.

A shiver runs down my spine. “Should you?”

His grip tightens.

He drags his lips up my jaw, to my ear.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers. “Let’s get out of here.”

I exhale sharply, so turned on I can barely think.

“Jackson…”

He takes my hand, lifting it to his lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my palm.

My heart flips.

And just like that?

I nod.

“No, I really mean home. Let’s fly back to Chicago tonight. You called out of work tomorrow, right?”

I nod.

“You’re coming back to my place tonight and then I’ll take you back tomorrow.”

“Ooh. Can we take the train to Riverbend?”

Jackson laughs. “You’re such a train girl. Of course we can.”