Page 21 of Welcome Home to Ivy Falls (Ivy Falls #3)

FORD

Like A Fortress

Maybe I’d overstepped. The entire time we were on the couch Piper’s stomach gurgled like she was hiding a small monster and it was hard to ignore.

When I went next door, I called Mimi’s and ordered.

The small pot pie I’d eaten hadn’t made a dent, and I was still starving.

I thought I could pass it off as a ‘Welcome to the Neighborhood’ type gesture.

But the truth was wrapped in a plastic shower curtain, or wearing an old concert T-shirt, Piper was a damn vision and I wanted more time with her.

‘Everyone’s got to eat, and after the day you’ve had,’ I glanced at the newly spackled wall, ‘I’d guess you haven’t had food in a while. But if you want me to go, that’s okay. I can leave the food here.’

Her mouth thinned and she clucked her tongue. ‘What kind of pizza is it?’

‘Pepperoni.’

Her jaw twitched. ‘I’m a vegetarian.’

Thankfully I’d thought about that possibility when ordering.

‘Good thing I got half with only veggies.’

She tapped her fingers on her hipbones. ‘I don’t eat dairy either.’

Fuck. Didn’t think of that.

‘All right. Let’s order Thai or Chinese. Whatever you want.’

The corners of her mouth twitched. ‘I’m kidding. I love cheese too much to be dairy-free.’

I let out a sigh of relief and she smiled like she really enjoyed messing with me.

We walked into the family room and Piper stopped short. ‘I have no idea where my plates are in this mess.’

‘Took care of that too.’

I opened the door and paid the pizza delivery guy. Piper waited on the couch and I placed the box down in front of her along with a handful of napkins and paper plates.

‘Thank you. This was thoughtful,’ she said like she might finally be giving in an inch.

We each picked a slice and spent a quiet minute eating. The room was covered in boxes, bins and five suitcases.

‘Did your brother help you move in?’

‘He insisted, even though I’m sure he had a million things going on at work today.’

‘What does he do?’

‘He owns an advertising agency in Nashville with his best friend.’

‘That’s got to keep him busy.’

‘It does and he’s planning a wedding too.’

‘When’s the big day?’

‘Early October. They’re having it in the backyard of the house where I grew up.’

‘That must make your parents happy.’

She stopped with the pizza halfway to her mouth.

‘It’s, uh, only me and my brother. My parents are gone.’

Crap. I need to stop talking.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said.

‘It happened a long time ago,’ she said, nibbling on a corner of the crust. ‘How Beck and I ended up in the house is a whole other story.’

‘I’d love to hear it.’

She went on to tell me how Beck came back to town and bid on the house, stealing it away from his now-fiancée, Torran, at auction.

How he was sure he could fix the place, which was in rough shape, until he fell through the floor of the attic.

She grew more animated as she explained the way Torran had to save him.

The agreement her brother made with Torran and her business partner, Manny, to restore the house, all while filming a show for the Hearth and Home network.

‘That explains the crowds in the square taking pictures. I thought they were just tourists, but I did hear whispers in the café about a TV show. Is that why there are all those funny signs around too?’

‘No, that’s the town contest. The mayor, who happens to be Torran’s dad, started it a few years ago.

He did it to help tourism, but everyone in this town is so damn competitive it turned into a big deal.

Barb and Susan have won the last three years.

’ She wiped a bit of cheese from her beautiful lips and caught me staring.

‘What?’ She patted at her shirt. ‘Did I spill sauce on me somewhere?’

‘No. It’s this place. Dr Sheridan mentioned how everyone looks out for each other.

Treats one another like family. At first I didn’t buy it, but after being here a few weeks I see what he meant.

It’s…’ I paused, trying not to spoil the mood with my thoughts of Harpeth Manor.

How all people cared about was how much money you could accumulate and who got the prized table in the country club’s formal dining room. ‘Refreshing,’ I finished.

She tucked her knees under her, resting her plate on her lap.

It was a simple move but she did it gracefully.

I pressed a hand to my chest, an ache filling the space around my heart.

I barely knew this girl, but there was something about the way she held herself back, the emotions she kept solidly in check, that made me want to get closer.

Help loosen the tethers she kept strapped around her heart.

‘Are you close to your family? You mentioned you had a brother the other day at the clinic. Any other siblings?’ she asked.

‘It’s only me and Gray.’

‘What’s he like? Is he a doctor too?’

I smothered a laugh. ‘No, he works for a bank, but I swear his real job is professional playboy. He dates a lot. Travels the world. Not sure the guy has a single care.’

‘Really? I would have never pictured that.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re focused and even-keeled. I expected your brother to be the same.’

‘Gray is like the freaking Tasmanian Devil. He’s got his hands in a dozen business projects. If he’s not working, he’s on the golf course, drinking with his friends, or at a concert or parties.’

‘And you’re not into that?’ she asked, taking another nibble of pizza.

‘The complete opposite. I like it quiet. Calm. To sit with my own thoughts for a while, especially after I’ve had a long day.

In Senegal, I often saw close to twenty-five cases on a single shift.

It’s a constant churn, evaluating patients, figuring out the next steps for their care whether it’s a follow-up appointment or the need for surgery.

The work is rewarding, and I especially love it when a local medical student works with me.

It feels good to pass along what I’ve learned.

Know that when their training is done, they’ll take care of their community. ’

‘What’s Senegal like? Why did you decide to go there? Do they speak a different language?’ She pressed a hand to her lips like she could stop the flow of questions. ‘Am I being too nosey? It’s sort of an affliction in Ivy Falls.’

‘No. I enjoy talking about my work.’

She smiled, waved her hand for me to go on.

‘After I finished my family practice residency at Meharry in Nashville, my parents wanted me to work for one of their friends in private practice. Every time I thought about it, I got this knot in the pit of my stomach. One day I was chatting with an international student who told me about the humanity ships. I went home that day, looked it up, and put in an application. A month later, they sent me an email asking when I could start.’ I set down my plate, wiped my mouth, which I was convinced was covered in pizza sauce.

‘Dakar, the capital, is beautiful. There are all these open-stall markets and the food is amazing. Fresh fish, vegetables and spices. I love taking a day to explore. Practicing my French.’

‘Are you fluent?’

‘ Oui. Je parle francais. ’

The grin she gave me brightened the entire damn room.

She stretched out her long, beautiful legs, and I shoved my hands into my pockets.

It was the only way to fight my urge to touch her, know how smooth her skin would be under my fingertips.

I couldn’t help but wonder if I pressed my hands to her waist, would it make her cheeks flame and her breath hitch?

‘I bet your parents were proud once you were accepted. That you were going where your skills were needed.’

I stayed quiet.

‘I’m pushing again. We can talk about something else.’

‘No, it’s only that…’ I paused because it was hard to frame my response without making my parents look like the villains in my origin story. ‘They were… hesitant.’

Her brows pinched together and she winced like she’d forgotten the cut above her eye. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

‘They had other plans in mind. None of which included me graduating from residency and flying across the world the next day. They especially hated it when a year later I left the ship and went to work in a field hospital with Doctors in Service.’

‘Yes.’ Her gaze went serious. ‘My brother told me about that.’

‘It was hard and not a good fit for me. After I was done, I went right back to the ship in Senegal.’

She must have noticed the stress in my voice because she said, ‘Tell me more about Africa.’

‘It’s beautiful and the people are wonderful.

’ I sighed, a familiar warmth falling over me.

‘They’re generous and kind. In Senegal, they have this word they use…

Teranga . It means being human first. That we each have value.

That you are welcome the minute you enter the community.

The wards on the ship’s surgical units are a symbol of that idea.

Most of the beds are only a few feet apart.

It’s much different than in the US. The patients don’t mind though.

They comfort one another. Encourage each other through treatment. It’s life-changing to see.’

‘I’m beginning to understand why you enjoy it so much.’

I took another slice to keep my mind off the fact that, if I leaned in closer, I could brush my mouth over hers, taste the fresh basil and mozzarella on her lips.

‘And you like living on a ship? I would imagine it gets cramped.’

‘My single-berth room is small. There’s only space for a bed, a desk and very tiny bathroom. All I really do there is sleep. If I’m not on shift, I’m out exploring.’

She set her slice on her plate and brushed the crumbs off her fingertips. ‘It sounds fascinating. Tell me more.’

‘There’s this spot called La Corniche that’s a pathway along the public beaches.

In certain places, they have restaurants where they cook fresh fish on outdoor grills.

They also serve madd, which is a fruit. Locals mix the pulp with sugar and water and it’s delicious.

There’s also Lake Retba. Also known as Lac Rose.

Pink Lake. The algae in it produces a pinkish hue that’s stunning.

Locals mine it for salt to preserve fish.

In the last few years it’s become Instagram famous. ’

She tilted her head and held me in that gorgeous amber gaze. ‘You miss it.’

‘I do,’ I said, not realizing how much until I had started talking about it. ‘That’s enough about me. How about you and Beck? Are you alike?’

‘A little.’ She slid her plate onto the table. ‘But I suppose that’s because we’re bonded through trauma.’

The way she wrapped her arms around herself, protecting her body like a fortress, warned I was stepping into uncomfortable territory for her.

I wanted to say the right thing, insist she could trust me. My mind spun with the ways I could put her at ease until my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from the clinic, requesting I call a patient who had a question about a new medication.

It was for the best. I’d laid a quiet foundation for a friendship with her tonight, and I didn’t need to press my luck.

‘I should go. That’s the after-hours answering service.’

‘Sure.’

For a flicker of a second I could have sworn she was disappointed I was leaving.

‘Thanks for the pizza.’

‘No problem. Don’t go hanging on any more shower rods, all right?’

‘That’s not what happened,’ she laughed, swatting at my shoulder.

I caught her hand in midair. We stayed in a smoldering haze, neither of us moving.

I took a step closer, her beautiful red lips drawing me in.

Her eyes were a stunning blend of gold and brown with small specks of green around the edges.

And, fuck, her hair smelled like coffee and vanilla and I wanted to bury myself in the scent of her.

I pushed a lock of hair away from her cheek and her breath caught.

Feeling that undeniable pull toward her, I slid my hand behind her neck.

She shuttered her eyes as if waiting for me.

I leaned in, so close to brushing my mouth over hers, until my phone buzzed again.

The shock of it forced me to take a step back, making some space between us.

‘I should go.’

Her gentle eyes took me in and I softly ran my thumb over the bandage on her head.

‘Goodnight, Bird.’

A soft smile lifted her lips when she said goodbye.

Friends , I reminded myself as I walked to my own door. That’s what we agreed. But when I closed my eyes tonight, I suspected the only thing I’d be dreaming about was her.