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  “Which had you losing your job,” I finished for him. He nodded. My throat felt so tight it hurt. “Are we going to lose the house? Will we have to move?”

  “No,” my father said adamantly.

  “We’re going to make sure you stay exactly where you are, that this house remains yours,” Matthew said.

  I glanced over at him, feeling dazed, confused, and in a fog. How could I be upset at my dad for standing by his convictions, for being with someone he cared for when I was staring at the man I loved ... the man I had no business being with?

  3

  Ivy

  My mind was in a haze as I stared out at the backyard, the sun starting to set, the colors of orange, red, and pink splashing across the dusky sky.

  My mind was a whirl at everything that had transpired this past week. Matthew moving his things in, taking the spare bedroom beside mine. My father on the phone constantly looking for temporary work until he could find something permanent. And all the while I wondered how things would really play out.

  It made me feel a little braver, that perhaps I could tell Matthew how I felt. If my father cared about somebody so young, surely he would understand my feelings for Matthew?

  I heard the backdoor open and glanced over my shoulder to see Matthew stepping out and onto the porch. It was as if my thoughts had conjured him and I felt my heartrate instantly pick up. I shifted on the plastic lounge chair, bringing my legs closer to my chest so now my feet were braced on the edge, my toes dangling slightly off.

  “Hey,” he said in his deep, masculine voice. He moved closer to me and took a seat in the chair beside mine.

  “Hi,” I said softly and continued to stare straight ahead.

  For long moments we didn’t speak, and the silence was deafening. I could feel the tension in the air, the stress. But maybe that was just from me. Maybe how I felt was being projected.

  And I hated that possibility.

  I hated it had gotten to this point, where I didn’t know what was up from down.

  “What’s on your mind?” Matthew asked, and I looked at him.

  He was already watching me, the shadows playing around his big body, the tattoos visible underneath the thin white Henley he wore. His hair was a little bit disheveled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it.

  I wondered how stressful this was for him. He seemed so calm and collected all the time, especially in the face of tension. But how did he really feel?

  “I’m just thinking about how I don’t know what’s going on or what the future holds.” I was honest, wanting to ask him so many things, but also afraid to delve deeper. I didn’t want him to be standoffish with me, didn’t want that weird vibe bouncing between us. “I’m wondering what my father’s going to do about work. I’m wondering what he’s going to do about this new relationship he’s in.” I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and looked at the back yard once more, staring at the sun as it started to set behind the horizon. The silence was our companion for long moments, but I felt Matthew’s gaze on me. I looked back at him. “What are you thinking about?”

  He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, the expression on his face telling me he was thinking about my question. “I’m thinking about you.” More silence. “I’m thinking about how this is all affecting you.” He cleared his throat.

  I wanted him to look at me again, wanted to feel his gaze on me as if it were his finger stroking along my body.

  “I’m thinking how I want to protect you from all of this, and how I wish you weren’t feeling this lost and helpless.” He looked at me again and when his eyes met mine it was like the spark of electricity traveled right through the center of my body. “But I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll make sure everything works out. I promise, Ivy.” He reached out and took my hand and gave it a light squeeze.

  My heart started racing at that small, innocent touch. His hand was so much bigger than mine, his palms and fingers callused from the hard manual work he did day in and day out. His skin was warm, golden brown as if it were kissed from the sun.

  I wanted to hold on to that, take it in, let it consume me.

  I opened my mouth, the words right there on the tip of my tongue.

  I love you. I love you. I’m so in love with you.

  Those words repeated over and over in my head like this mantra, so close to being free, my deepest, darkest secret ready to be spilled. But the sound of his phone vibrating in his pocket had me swallowing them, had them hiding deep down inside of me once more.

  For a moment, it looked like he didn’t want to break the connection, this moment between us, but when he fished it out of his pocket and looked at the screen, I saw the seriousness on his face.

  “It’s work. I have to take it.” He gave my hand a squeeze and I felt my belly tighten in response.

  He stood, and I watched him walk away and go back into the house.

  All I wanted to do was call him back, to be honest and tell him that I loved him, that it might be wrong, that he was my uncle, but that there was nobody else in the world I’d ever give my heart to but him.

  * * *

  Matthew

  I ended the call and shoved my cell back in my pocket, my heart racing and my hands sweaty. My reaction had nothing to do with the work call I’d just taken, and everything to do with being out there on the porch with Ivy.

  My Ivy.

  What I felt for her was twisted, taboo. She was my niece, for fuck’s sake. And although we weren’t blood related, I was her family, had watched her grow into the beautiful woman she was today.

  What was wrong with me? She was so innocent and vulnerable, so impressionable. And the way she looked at me told me my feelings weren’t one-sided.

  She looked at me with adoration and love, as if I could give her the world if she asked.

  And I would, in a heartbeat.

  But she was so young, only eighteen. I was old enough to be her father.

  I was her step-uncle.

  So wrong, yet I couldn’t help myself with her, couldn’t control my feelings.

  I walked over to the window and could see her standing by the banister now, leaning against it. She was gorgeous, but the things I felt for her were wrong. I felt as if I were breaking the law, going against a moral code.

  Betraying my brother.

  I heard him start to come down the stairs and looked away from Ivy, watching as he stepped onto the landing.

  He glanced up, and seemed surprised that I was standing there.

  “Hey,” he said and scratched his jaw, the sound of his nails going over his scruff loud in the foyer.

  I cleared my throat, feeling guilty as hell for just thinking about Ivy in the way I was. “How are you holding up?” Over the last week we hadn’t spoken too much about what was going down, not anything in depth.

  He loved his former employer’s daughter, refused to stop seeing her, so he’d lost his job because he broke the rules.

  Stephan looked exhausted, as if he’d been put through the wringer.

  “Honestly? I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread.”

  I felt like shit, because here was my brother going through all this crap in his life, and I was thinking about wanting Ivy in some pretty obscene ways. My desires and needs were so minimal compared to the priorities at hand.

  I nodded, not knowing what to say, how to make things better.

  “But ain’t shit to be done but move forward.” He exhaled. “I want to thank you for moving in and helping me. I know I’ve only been out of work for a week, but I’m already starting to feel the pressure of not finding a job, having to explain to potential employers why I lost my previous one, and then the bills are mounting. It’s all pretty fucking stressful.”

  I walked up to him and clapped him on the back. “We’re family. I’d do anything for you and Ivy.” And on the heels of that I thought about my love for her, how for the past year I’d wanted her like no other.

  It
was as if something in me had been awoken when she turned eighteen. But I kept those feelings hidden like my life depended on it. And I suppose it did.

  I didn’t want to cross that line. I didn’t want to betray the people I trusted, who trusted me, and who I loved. But I saw Ivy as a woman. I saw her as mine.

  4

  Ivy

  The lights were dimmed by Matthew and a moment later my father came out holding a small cake with three candles in the center of it. The glow illuminated his face, a genuine smile spread across his mouth.

  He set the cake in front of me and I smiled, knowing that the past few weeks had been really hard on him, and still were. Despite him searching for a job, he hadn’t found anything and I knew it was wearing him down.

  I didn’t know if it was because of the reason he’d lost his job and therefore future employers were staying away, but either way it broke my heart seeing him like this, knowing he was struggling.

  And then there was the matter of him being involved with the woman in question, and how juggling everything had to be hard. I heard them talking on the phone on several occasions. But I guess I was too afraid to ask him about it, to want to meet her.

  I suppose I found it a little weird knowing my father was involved with someone so young. And on the heels of that, though, I found it funny, hypocritical, or maybe even ironic, given my own situation.

  Here I was, nineteen and in love with my step-uncle. I should have no issues with my father being with whomever he wanted, but I guess it was a little different seeing as he was my dad.

  “Make a wish, honey,” he said softly and sat down beside me, the grin still in place.

  I looked over at Georgia, who sat on my other side. Then I glanced at Matthew, who stood over by the light switch, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his shirt pulled snug against his muscles.

  What a sad excuse for a nineteenth birthday, I could practically hear Georgia say. And maybe she was right. But to me this was perfect. I was a low-key type of person, and the three people in this room were the ones I cared about the most.

  Georgia was like family, like my sister. She’d been in this house more times than I could count, knew we really didn’t have any family, and that I wasn’t really close with anyone.

  I looked down at the cake, at those three candles and the flames that danced as a light breeze picked up. I closed my eyes for a moment and then inhaled a second before I exhaled, extinguishing them. The scent of smoke instantly filled my nose.

  When I opened my eyes, it was at the same time Matthew turned the lights on. Our gazes clashed, held. As my father started cutting the cake, and Georgia started talking to him about her plans for college this fall, all I could do was stare at Matthew.

  My lips tingled from the idea of him kissing me, my heart raced from the thought of feeling him touch me, press up against me. But I knew nothing could happen. I knew nothing ever would.

  This was my life, my broken love story.

  How would I ever go on and find a man, marry him, have children with him, when my one true love was just feet from me, untouchable, unattainable ... forbidden?

  “What did you wish for?” Georgia asked and I glanced over at her.

  That I could be with Matthew and it would all work out. That I could love him without judgment.

  I didn’t tell her that, of course.

  “I wished for world peace,” I said, lying easily. She snorted. I glanced over at Matthew, saw the way he swallowed, his throat working. Could he see the desire on my face whenever I looked at him? Could he see my love for him?

  He kept me at arm’s length and I hated it. I felt so lost, lonely. But the truth was, I wouldn’t have changed my feelings for anything. I wouldn’t have stopped them even if I’d known this would be the outcome.

  For the next half hour we sat around the table and ate cake, my father telling stories of when I was younger, memories he had of my mother and me when I was a child. It had been so long since we’d talked about her, as if my father didn’t want to bring up painful memories.

  Death had a funny way of making you appreciate life, each day. It made you appreciate love even more.

  Matthew sat at the end of the table, across from me, looking at me, barely speaking during that entire time. It was like he was another man, not the easygoing person I’d grown up with, that I looked up to.

  And I hated that. I wanted things to be okay, no matter what was driving a wedge between us.

  I wanted things okay for everyone.

  * * *

  “I wish I could stay,” Georgia said.

  “I know, and I wish you could too. But go help your sister with her school project. I’m just glad you were here. It would’ve even been an even sadder birthday if you hadn’t been able to show up.”

  She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “It was fine and not pitiful at all. It was fun and your dad is hilarious.” She got a serious expression on her face then. “How are you doing now?”

  I shifted on my feet and shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans. I shrugged. “I’m fine,” I said, lying. “I mean, what else can I do, how can I really feel? It is what it is, right?”

  “I mean, I guess. But it still sucks with the whole job thing.”

  I nodded, knowing that was the truth.

  “And you haven’t talked to your dad about his girlfriend yet? You haven’t met her?”

  I shook my head. “Truth is, I’m not even upset or feel weird about him dating someone so young.” Because I harbored my own taboo feelings toward my uncle. “But even so, I don’t know if I want to?” I phrased it like a question because the truth was I didn’t know if I was ready to meet her.

  Would it be weird given the fact I had feelings for Matthew, a much older man? Would it be too much like my father’s relationship with a young girl? It was just so confusing.

  There was a moment of silence and then I saw her expression change. I knew she was switching the topic and I silently thanked God for that.

  She glanced over my shoulder, looking nervous all of a sudden. I turned and stared behind me to see what she was looking at, but there was nothing. When I faced her again, I felt my brows bunch in confusion. “What are you doing? Who are you looking for?”

  She gave me this mischievous grin and then walked over to her bag, which she’d set on the floor by the front door when she’d first gotten here. I watched as she rifled around in it, and then a second later she pulled out a bottle of peach schnapps.

  I felt my eyes widen as I saw the bottle, then quickly looked behind me, expecting my father or Matthew to be standing there about to give us the third degree for having liquor.

  “Oh my God, Georgia. Where did you get that from?”

  She grinned and tried to discreetly hand it to me, but the bottle was pretty big. I kept looking around, expecting Matthew or my father to walk in and see the exchange, as if we were shady people making a drug deal in an alley.

  “Marcus has a friend who is twenty-one. Told him to buy me this so I could give it to you.” She was still grinning like she had just given me the key to all the secrets of the world. “After the last couple of weeks you’ve had, I figured you might need something strong.”

  I looked down at it and then back up at her. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Ivy, you drink it.” Georgia started chuckling as if she’d had to really break it down for me and thought it was funny.

  “Obviously, Georgia. But I don’t drink.”

  Just as she was about to speak, her cell vibrated and she pulled it out of her coat pocket.

  She looked at the screen and sighed. “It’s my mom. I have to go. She’s bitching at me because I’m not home yet.”

  She gave me a hug, the liquor bottle wedged between us, digging into my ribs. When she pulled back she look down at it and grinned again.

  “And keep your schedule open for that party.” She winked. “Have a good time.” She wagged her
brows at me as she glanced down at the alcohol. Then she turned, grabbed her bag off the floor, and headed out the door.

  I stood there with this big bottle of liquor in my hands, telling myself I wasn’t going to go to my room and drink alone. But then I heard my father’s phone ringing. The way he answered it, his tone changing, becoming softer, sweeter, I knew he was talking to the woman he was seeing.

  So I turned and headed upstairs, shut myself in my room, and unscrewed the top of the bottle.

  The first swallow burned, but the longer I did it, the more I drank, the more it started to taste pretty damn good.

  This might be a very bad idea. Or maybe it was the best one I’d had in a long time.

  5

  Ivy

  I didn’t know how long I stayed up in my room. An hour? Two?

  It all blurred together.

  I’d drunk a decent amount of the schnapps and was feeling a nice buzz. My body felt warm, my muscles kind of achy.

  I found myself stumbling down the stairs, trying to be quiet because I knew my father had gone to bed. The last thing I needed was for him to see me this way and grill me on specifics.

  I first went into the kitchen, got a glass of water, and drank that before refilling it. I wasn’t trashed, but I had a pretty intense buzz going on.

  I set the cup in the sink and it tipped over, the sound seeming so loud. I thought for sure I’d woken him up. I froze, looking up at the ceiling, trying to tell if he was getting up. I had no idea if he could hear it. But maybe I should’ve been more concerned about Matthew catching me in this condition. He was, after all, far more intense than my dad.

  But he’d left the house hours ago, right after Georgia had gone home. I’d heard him leave, the sound of his truck starting and driving off in the distance.