“Oh, fuck…Ivy,” I cry out as the thorns dig into my back. I’m no fool. She’s thanking me for giving in to her, grateful that I’m letting her go to L.A. without much of a fight.

But how am I going to stand being away from this woman for seven long days and seven long nights? Let’s just say that I have no problem with her trying to make it up to me. And man, is she off to one hell of a start…

Chapter Three

Ivy

I hate that I’m freaking Eric out.

He tossed and turned all night after I confirmed my travel plans with Will. I’m leaving for L.A. tonight on a red-eye out of New York. Eric’s going to take half a day off and drive me to the airport. He called his buddy Jack to cover for him. He’ll drive the tractor and Eric’s dad Frank will take my place behind the register. Luckily they were both able to pitch in and help out on such short notice. Next week, Eric is going to rotate schedules between the two of them and Ben. Hopefully they’ll be able to tough it out until I get back.

I watch Eric sleep fitfully as the sun shines through the skylight above our bed, causing him to scrunch his eyelids. He looks so cute as he unconsciously throws an arm across his face to deflect the glare. My stomach clenches, and this time not from morning sickness, although it’s been pretty bad these last few months. I feel a pang, knowing that I won’t be waking up next to him for at least a week. We’ve only lived together since July, but the log cabin he built with his own two hands already feels like home. It’s up to me to make these last few hours we have together count.

I’m in one of his freshly laundered t-shirts, the white, short-sleeved style he regularly wears under his plaid shirts. I’m kicking myself for being so fastidious with the household chores because now I wish it smelled like him instead of fabric softener. I’m going to need something of his to help me fall asleep when I’m by myself in a strange hotel room.

I bite my lip to keep from crying. I can do this. I have to be strong, for him and for our baby. I’m not going to have him shouldering the financial load all by himself, not if I can help it. I refuse to strap him with any more burdens. For all intents and purposes, he’s supporting me right now, and it doesn’t make me feel good about myself. I’ve always pulled my own weight for as long as I can remember. I’ve never taken handouts from anybody before, and I don’t intend to start now.

Since our first night together, he’s always slept naked beside me. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I feel his erection press against the back of my thigh, and so far the only name he’s called out in his sleep has been mine. I’ve been dreading the moment when he cries out for Cassidy, but it hasn’t happened yet. It seems like he’s really and truly over her.

I glance over as he rolls onto his back, still unable to fully relax. He’s already pitching a tent, the sheet standing straight up below his waist. I chuckle to myself. He’s definitely ready for me. It’s time to make my move and start pampering my man with the precious moments we have left.

The feather mattress sinks beneath me as I get to my knees. Yanking down the sheet, I take a minute to commit his body to memory. I could stare at him all day long, but the clock is ticking. Scooting closer, I lift one leg over his waist to straddle him. He likes when I’m on top, especially when he sits up to join me. That’s a favorite position of ours, even though sometimes he likes to turn me around and take me from behind. I think it reminds him of our first time down on his couch when he tore me out of my black Jackie O. dress.

Before that night, I never had much experience with guys. My one hook-up was with Andre, the foreign exchange student from Ukraine whose dorm room was across the hall from mine sophomore year. We were always bumping into each other, making pathetic attempts at conversation. One Sunday morning, after a night out drinking with Sophie and the girls, we found ourselves between shower stalls. Stepping out, he took one look at me. I took one look at him. And bam…my virginity was a thing of the past. It was over in about twenty-five seconds, and I didn’t come anywhere close to achieving an orgasm. Sadly, we never had a chance at a second opportunity before the semester ended. He journeyed back to his homeland and that was that.

It was stupid having unprotected sex with someone I barely knew. And because of the language barrier, we never really had a real conversation. But I just wanted that dreaded rite of passage to be over with. I was sick of being the only one with an intact hymen among my group of friends. No one likes being the freak. I know I sure didn’t.

I haven’t revealed much about my sexual history to Eric. He’s kind of possessive like that, and I don’t think he likes the fact that he wasn’t my first. To be honest, I have mixed feelings about it. I don’t think I would’ve been as confident coming into this relationship without any kind of experience under my belt. Up until then, Cassidy was the love of his life. I was pitting myself against some serious competition. If I had been a virgin on top of all that, I would’ve been a complete basket case.

And I find it seriously hot that Eric was only with one other woman besides me. He wasn’t a player or sowing his wild oats after Cassidy died. He knew what it was like to be in love, and he was capable of restraint—two qualities that hooked me from the get-go. I knew that if I found the courage to trust him with my heart, he’d return my love with nothing but loyalty and devotion—as long as we stayed far away from the machinations of Lauren Price.

I need to drive any thoughts of that evil bitch right out of my head. I’m not going to have her ruin my morning with Eric. But I can’t prevent a surge of anger from coursing through me when I remember how she refused to sign off on Professor Tate’s form letter, denying me of my internship credits and basically canceling out the time I spent at the Weekend Express, my replacement assignment. Without her signature, I didn’t have enough hours to complete the requirements stated in the academic catalog. Her maneuver prevented me from enrolling in the courses I needed to finish my degree at the main campus. I couldn’t move forward without securing another placement, and since I am living in an area with more cornfields than media outlets, it was virtually impossible to secure a new position before the fall semester started.

Lauren’s efforts to derail my career were a complete success. She won, but I walked away with Eric. And it’s been eating at her ever since. Her bogus—although very public—display of affection with Eric went a long way toward cementing the image of them as a couple in the public’s mind. Everyone was rooting for Eric to make a fresh start. They were all pulling for him to find love again, just not with an outsider like me. They wanted him with one of their own. I was too young, too poor, too blah compared to Lauren. Eric could do so much better.

And I thought so too until Will contacted me out of the blue about his screenplay. He was having trouble nailing the local color the producers so desperately wanted when they visited our town last summer. They were considering moving on to another project if he couldn’t deliver what they were looking for by the end of the year.

Admittedly, Will is more of a schmoozer than a writer. He can talk a good game, but he just can’t translate his big ideas onto the page. If I didn’t step in and help him, he would have been in danger of losing his funding. Eric was leery of the idea, but he knew I needed this. He didn’t trust Will, but he was happy to see me writing again, putting my talent to good use.

Every spare minute I could cram into the day, I spent clicking away on my laptop, sending various drafts to Will for approval. I had never written a screenplay before, so I stuck mostly to dialogue, leaving out elements like camera angles, storyboards, and set design. I was in over my head, but I was having fun—and secretly getting even with Lauren in the process, making her the villain of the piece.

Up until this point, the producers liked what I was doing. Everything was going fine until Will texted that something was up. He didn’t elaborate when I called him back. He was rounding up the partners for an emergency meeting, and he needed my ass on a plane, pregnant or not. He was in one of his frantic moods and barely had time to write my flight number on his hand before hanging up on me. Whatever it was that had him so rattled didn’t bode well for the project. I had to help him salvage things. I owed it to Will.

Glancing down, I find that Eric is awake, watching me. I was so lost in thought. I didn’t even realize he was up. I’ll deal with Will when I get to L.A., but for now, my attention is focused on Eric. For the first time, I know what it’s like to be placed at the center of someone else’s universe because Eric gave me what Will never could—his heart and soul. He taught me what true love is all about. And he continues to teach me, both in and out of the bedroom.

“Good morning, beautiful. Sleep well?” He brushes my cares aside with one sweep of his hand, smoothing my hair away from my face. I’m still sitting on top of him, so it’s no wonder he’s awake. I’ve already gained about fifteen pounds with this pregnancy. I’m not exactly as light as a feather anymore.

“I did, but I don’t think you slept so well.” I frown, worried that he’s not going to get any rest at all when I’m gone.

“I didn’t disturb you, did I?” He sits up, lightly sliding me off him. I’m a little put out that he doesn’t want to fool around. He must be really tired.