Chapter 13

IVY

Rhys didn't need directions to find McDougall's Pub. He frequently visited Polson, and the mystery of where he disappeared every other night was solved. He found an empty parking space in a jammed parking lot and pulled his vehicle in. The second the engine shut off, I practically jumped out and put myself at a safe distance. Being trapped in a vehicle with him for twenty minutes wasn't easy. His oaky smell filled every breathable space, and I couldn't escape. He softly sang along to every song on the radio and tried desperately to include me in his melodies. I was pretty sure I was in over my head by agreeing to tag along. I couldn't let myself have fun with Rhys. Could I?

Walking together toward the closed front doors, Rhys jogged ahead and pulled the door open for me. I was a little taken aback by his sweet gesture. That wasn't the Rhys Wyatt I remembered.

"Ladies first," he smirked.

When we stepped inside, a band was already playing fast bluegrass country. Rhys quickly scanned the room and pointed to a tall, skinny guy leaning against the side wall, watching the band. Rhys grabbed my hand and led the way, navigating us over to him as he weaved us through the packed room.

When the guy noticed us approaching, he smiled broadly at Rhys. "I was wondering where the hell you were, Wyatt. Your set starts in fifteen minutes," he yelled over the music.

"Fully aware, Chris," Rhys shouted back.

Chris was the one in charge of the musicians. He had a skinny frame and wore a flannel shirt. His hair was dark and unruly, and I would have been scared he was scolding Rhys instead of teasing him if he hadn't been grinning.

Chris glanced down at me standing beside Rhys and cocked a brow. "You brought a friend, I see?"

Rhys looked over at me. "Chris, this is Ivy. Ivy, this is Chris. He's Stage Manager for McDougall's Pub."

"Hello," I smiled at him.

"Nice to meet you," Chris nodded back at me and looked over at the stage. "You better hurry up, Wyatt. You are minutes away from your set."

Rhys pulled up on the strap of his guitar case and placed his hand on the small of my back. He guided me through the crowd once again and over to the bar. His subtle touch caused goosebumps to spread all over my skin. He pulled out an empty barstool and nodded toward it.

"Sit here, okay? Don't move," he warned. His smooth, caring voice made me feel warm. I nodded and relaxed slightly as he waved to the bartender. "What would you like to drink?"

I didn't care for a drink. But I also didn't want to be rude, so I ordered.

"Whiskey, I guess."

Rhys smiled. "Whiskey, huh? Have I corrupted you?"

He had more than corrupted me. Rhys had been destroying me for as long as I could remember, and he never even knew he was.

I laughed. "Maybe a little."

"Two whiskeys, Kenny," Rhys said. Kenny, the bartender, poured two whiskeys and slid them to Rhys.

"Cheers," Rhys said and handed me one to me. We took a sip in unison.

"Thank you," I said, placing my drink on the bar top.

"Don't leave your drink like that unattended." He grabbed my drink from the bar top and returned it to me. "Jesus, Ivy. The last thing I need is for you to get drugged by some idiot."

I laughed. "Maybe that kind of stuff happens in California, but it doesn't happen here."

Concern flashed in Rhys's eyes. "It can happen anywhere," he said, and his voice grew closer as he leaned further. His hand brushed my arm, and I tensed. He was too close now.

"You've been gone so long that you've forgotten how harmless Montana can be." I heard Rhys's swift intake of breath, and I glanced up at him. His eyes were watching me. His heated gaze sizzled all over my body, making me nervous. "You don't need to worry about me, Rhys. I can take care of myself."

"I do," he assured me. "I'm the one who brought you here. Have you not seen how good you look tonight? And you'll be sitting up at a bar, all by yourself. I don't want to have to jump off stage to knock out some guy who's hitting on my little brother's girlfriend."

Was it wrong that all I took from his spiel was how he thought I looked good tonight?

My chest squeezed with anxiety. "Fine. I'll hold my drink. But not because you told me to, but because I want to, even though I think you are overreacting."

"Sometimes you are a sassy little thing." His smile followed his words and grew slowly. "I need to get ready for my set. You'll be okay here?"

I laughed and said. "Yes, Rhys. I'll survive."

Thirty minutes later, Rhys was mesmerizing every woman patron in the bar, including myself. Occasionally, he would suck in a breath through his teeth, causing my heart to flutter, and every woman watching would scream his name. He leaned over the microphone and played his guitar effortlessly, his voice velvety smooth. Not only did the women love him and his obvious sex appeal, but you could tell all the men in the bar enjoyed the upbeat bluegrass country songs he sang about beer and girls. I couldn't help but think how incredibly talented Rhys was. His original songs sounded like they should be on the radio, and his cover songs sounded better than the artists they belonged to. I'd always known Rhys was talented, but I never realized how someday he could be a star if he kept playing gigs like this one.

I sat through the whole set, unable to take my eyes off Rhys. I watched him laugh a little between songs and look out into the crowd. I watched as he strummed his guitar, and I laughed when he threw a guitar pic out to his fans for them to fight over. I admired his light facial hair along his jawline and upper lip. Growing up, he was always so clean-shaven, but now he was scruffy in a good way. He no longer had that sweet baby face I once fell in love with; he was manly...like sexy manly. It made me realize how much time had passed and how different our lives had become. Rhys ended another upbeat song and glanced at me through the crowd with a warm smile.

"I'm going to slow it down a bit tonight," Rhys said into the microphone and looked back into his adoring crowd. He pulled a bar stool over from his right side and sat down. I could feel him look over at me again, and his lingering attention was pressed into the side of my face. My heart dropped a little. The entire crowd grew silent, and I heard whispers and felt curious eyes follow his gaze right to me. "This one is for you, Goldie," he breathed.

The beat grew slower, and Luke Bryan's "Strip It Down" played on his guitar. When he started to sing the lyrics I loved so much, his voice was smoother and sexier than it had been all set, if possible. He looked out over the crowd, his eyes unfocused, absorbed in the music. His whole body was lost to the words I loved so much. The words I once wished Rhys would feel about me. I had dreamed of this moment so many times in my teenage years as I sat at the back of Jones Tavern, watching him and Eddie play, wishing that Rhys would sing this exact song for me and only me. He stopped my breath when his eyes once again met mine. He gave me a small, knowing smile that made my entire body tremble. Something about this was too intimate and intense, and I felt a pang of regret for following Rhys here tonight.

When the song ended, the crowd cheered, and the girls screamed and hollered Rhys's name. I couldn't help but feel myself noticeably blushing.

"Oh. My. God." A blonde girl gushed from my right side. She fanned herself with the back of her hand and looked over at her curly-haired friend, gazing up at Rhys in awe. "I swear Rhys Wyatt is the sexiest damn thing I've ever heard sing."

"I think my panties just melted off," her curly-haired friend laughed.

I turned away from them and slammed another whiskey, trying to calm my nerves. My face was hot, and my palms were clammy. I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy hearing them talk about Rhys like that. I glanced up at Rhys once again, and he was looking straight at me as he continued to sing his next song like he hadn't just made me a jittery mess. His perfect face was still focused solely on me. I noticed the two girls glance over at me suspiciously. I had always dreamed of hearing him sing to me, but it was now quickly becoming something I needed to forget.

A few more songs later, Rhys's set ended, and I watched him as he made his way through the crowd. He was headed toward the hallway that led backstage to the dressing rooms. I waited patiently at the bar beside the two girls waiting for Rhys to appear. I figured they should start drawing numbers since every other girl in the room seemed to be waiting idly for Rhys.

I ordered another drink from the bartender and took a sip. The next musician stepped on stage and started his set.

"Ivy," Rhys's voice stopped me from having another sip. I looked back at him over my shoulder.

"Hey. You were amazing up there."

He smiled proudly. "Thanks. I'm glad you came."

I blushed and took a slow sip of my drink.

"Wow, Rhys, you sure can sing." The blonde who was gushing over Rhys earlier said over my shoulder.

He smiled politely at her, "Thank you."

"I'm Dana," she cooed. "And this is my friend, Kelly."

Rhys apologetically glanced down at me and then looked over at Dana before he hesitantly replied. "Nice to meet you."

"Could we interest you in a dance?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him. "Or maybe a drink?"

Rhys let out a half sigh, half chuckle, and ran a hand through his hair. "Thanks, ladies, but I am going to have to pass tonight. I was just about to hit the dancefloor with my friend Ivy."

My eyes widened, and I glanced up at him. Did he want to dance with me? I thought he would send me back to the ranch in a cab and take these girls up on their offer. Of course, I wanted to dance with him. I always wanted to dance with him for as long as I could remember. The girls looked both shocked and pissed when Rhys held out his hand for me. I placed my hand in his, feeling a tightness in my chest. Was I really about to go on the dancefloor with Rhys? My heart swelled when he closed his hand around mine and led me out to the dancefloor.

I could feel those girl's eyes on me, but I really didn't care right now. They could look. They could judge me and think I wasn't pretty enough to be on Rhys Wyatt's arm. They weren't wrong anyway.

The band switched up their tune to a slow song. Rhys smiled down at me and pulled me closer. He slid his hands down my rib cage and stopped at my hips, resting them there. I slipped my arms around his neck and pressed closer to him.

"You smell good," he said softly.

My heart stuttered a tiny bit. I couldn't believe I was this close to him, slow dancing in a bar. What the hell was I thinking?

"Not as good as you smell, trust me," I replied.

He laughed. "Oh yeah. I highly doubt that."

I tensed as his hands tightened their grip on my hips, and his fingertips grazed along my lower back.

"It's the truth," I said. "You smell sweet like cinnamon but rugged too - like spruce trees or something like that."

He laughed again like I was the most amusing person in the world. "That doesn't sound like an appealing scent."

I relaxed a little. "Well, it is. At least to me."

He glanced down at me and smiled like he was only seeing me for the first time. "Okay, now that you've seen what I do in my spare time, tell me, what does Ivy Bishop want to do with hers? Besides, be a book nerd." He smirked. I playfully smacked him on the shoulder, and he laughed, pulling me closer. "Like, what do you want to do with your life? Because if I remember correctly, you're studying communications or something like that, right?"

I tilted my head to the side and studied him for a moment. "Yeah, I am..."

"Is that what you want a career in?" Rhys asked.

"I'd like to study journalism after graduation. But there isn't a journalism school in Montana," I looked up at Rhys and saw him watching me, intently listening to every word. "And, of course, Blaine wants to attend medical school, so it depends on where he ends up, I guess."

"You guess?" Rhys asked.

"Yeah," I sighed. "He wasn't too happy when he found out I was offered a full-time placement at a local news station for a half-semester of our Junior year."

"Ivy, that's incredible. Why would he be upset? I hope you accepted the offer."

"Well...not exactly."

"Why not?" he frowned.

"Mostly because of my financial situation," I sighed. "And Blaine wasn't too pleased I wouldn't be in Missoula with him for our junior year. He's not the kind of boyfriend who lets his girlfriend out of sight. He struggled with leaving me behind this summer. The placement I was offered is in Fredrickton, with a possibility of full-time employment next summer, which would put a lot of distance between us. Blaine has this way of making me feel guilty over wanting to accept an internship so far away. Plus, I'm not sure I'm even cut out for Journalism. I'm not exactly bold, which one would need to be in the journalism field."

"Ivy, are you kidding? You're incredibly bold. At least with me anyway," he laughed.

"I guess..." I started, but he cut me off.

"You'd be perfect," he smiled. "You should accept the offer. Besides, you're way too pretty not to be on television."

I sighed and looked away from him. I saw those two girls still watching us on the dance floor.

"I bet those two girls over there would disagree," I said. "That's why they asked you to dance with them. They highly doubted someone like you would be here with someone like me."

"Why?" he cocked an eyebrow and gazed down at me. "You're gorgeous. Those girls have nothing on you. Trust me."

I tensed again and felt my chest squeeze. Hearing him compliment me like that was hard. I wasn't expecting it.

"I think I need another drink," I said with a shaky, nervous smile, then moved away from him.

"Okay, sure." Rhys scratched the back of his head, almost as if he were disappointed I ended our dance so abruptly. He had no idea, though, that I had too. After seeing him on stage, hearing him compliment me, and then letting him hold me like this, so intimate, close, and protective, it was even causing me to have confusing thoughts and feelings.

Being around him all summer was going to be harder than I imagined.