CHAPTER 114: I DON’T GIVE A SHIT

Her brows knitted.

"I knew the first time I kissed you on the hotel stairs. I knew the first time I made love to you."

"And I don’t ever...ever want to lose you."

Ivy’s throat tightened. Her vision blurred. "Uh... I’m going to say something you do not like to hear right now," she said. "But honestly, I don’t give a shit."

"What—"

"I love you."

"God, Ivy..." He chuckled.

Before either of them could second-guess it, she closed the distance, throwing her arms around his cold, dripping body and pressing her lips to his. His hands came up, tangling in her wet hair, pulling her closer.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Ivy rested her forehead against his chest. "Oh my God," she murmured, noticing the tremor still shaking through him. "You’re shivering."

"I’m fine," he said stubbornly.

"Liar," she shot back, brushing her thumb across his cheek. "Come on, before you catch pneumonia and make me a widow before I even get a ring."

******

The moment they stepped inside, the shift from the biting cold outside to the mild warmth of her living room made everything feel surreal. Ivy took one look at Winn—drenched from head to toe, his skin pale and lips dangerously blue—and realized just how reckless he’d been.

His romantic, stubborn display of devotion had crossed right into self-destructive.

"Jesus, Winn," she muttered, already hurrying toward the thermostat. She twisted the dial to maximum heat, then turned back to him. He looked miserable and yet, somehow, impossibly beautiful. "You’re going to make yourself sick," she said, exasperation warring with concern as she began to undress him.

He gave a soft laugh. "Well, I am glad I still turn you on, but I don’t want to get you sick too," he said, right before sneezing hard enough to bend him slightly forward.

"Pervert," Ivy shot back, her lips twitching even as worry pinched her features. "I just want to get you out of those wet clothes. My God, what were you thinking?"

She tugged at his jacket, peeling it off his shoulders. She worked quickly, unbuttoning his shirt. Every button she undid exposed more of him—his chest rising with shallow breaths, his abs contracting under the cold.

Winn simply watched her.

His belt clanged softly, and she pulled down his soaked trousers and shorts, tossing them into the heap. His body was glorious. And despite his goosebumps, he was unmistakably aroused.

Ivy’s cheeks flamed. She reached for the nearest throw blanket on the couch and tossed it over him.

His lips curved into a slow, teasing grin. "You undress me, get me naked, and then cover me up. You’re sending very confusing messages, Ivy."

"Shut up," she muttered, tucking the blanket tighter around him. "You’re shaking like a leaf."

"I’m fine," he lied, eyes trailing her every move. "Just... maybe slightly distracted."

She threw him a glare. "Winn."

"Okay, okay." He held his hands up. "No more jokes. I promise."

"Good," she said, stepping back and folding her arms. "I don’t have anything for you to wear."

He sniffed. "Reese should be here any minute with a change of clothes."

Her head snapped up. "You called Reese?"

"Yeah. I have to get to work."

Ivy stared at him. "You’re delirious if you think you’re going anywhere."

"I have to. I haven’t been for a week already," he said.

"You’re not going to work." She pressed a hand to his chest. "I’ll call Mr Winsford."

"I’ll draw you a hot bath. You soak yourself up in there and I’ll make you tea."

She led Winn toward the sofa, her small hand gripping his arm as if he might crumble without it.

He sank onto the sofa with a groan, running a hand through his hair. His nose was red.

Winn sneezed violently.

She hurried into the bathroom. When she returned, she found Winn half-asleep against the sofa, his eyes fluttering open as she approached.

"Come on," she said softly. "The bath’s ready. You’re freezing."

He pushed himself up with effort.

"I’ll wait for Reese. You go take a bath and I’ll handle your tasks from home. Unless...you want Reese to stay with you while I go into work."

"No, stay." Winn’s expression softened. "So, I’m guessing the wedding is still on?"

Ivy met his gaze, her heart giving a small, traitorous flutter. "It’s still on," she said, smiling despite herself.

******

One week to the wedding, Ivy had officially resigned from House of Kane.

Winn and Joey had both agreed that it wouldn’t be appropriate for Mrs. Kane to stay on as Winn’s secretary. Ivy had agreed, even if her heart clenched at the thought. That office had been more than a workspace; it had been the start of them.

Still, she’d told herself it was fine. Maybe this was the universe nudging her forward. She’d been thinking about going back to school anyway, finishing the degree she’d abandoned when life got complicated.

She and Trish had just returned from her final dress fitting when Ivy spotted the bouquet waiting at her doorstep.

"Oh," she breathed, bending to pick it up. The scent of fresh peonies and lilies filled her lungs. Her heart fluttered before she even checked the tag. Of course. From Winn.

He’d been sending flowers every week without fail, each bouquet a little more personal, more thoughtful. Last week it had been daisies. The week before that, roses mixed with lavender.

She smiled, pressing her face into the petals. "He’s becoming unbearably romantic."

"Someone is in love," Trish sang in a mock swoon, twirling the edge of her scarf.

Ivy unlocked the door.

She pushed the door open and noticed something lying on the floor. A large, thick envelope, no return address.

Trish tilted her head. "Ooh, mysterious. You think it’s from Mr. Tall, Dark, and Corporate?"

Ivy frowned, setting the flowers aside. "I don’t know how much more that man can spoil me."

When Trish bent to pick up the envelope, her playful tone vanished. "Uh, Ivy..." She ran her finger under the seal, curiosity winning out before Ivy could stop her. The gasp that followed was sharp and real.