Chapter 5
Ivy
“And this is my room where you’re gonna sleep!” Delilah shouts, beaming up at me.
I survey the sea of colorful plastic littered over the dark hardwood and nod appreciatively.
Glancing over to her tiny bed, I note the pink sheets with purple dragons covering them.
I look back down to Delilah who is still clutching my palm like she’s getting paid for it, and notice the clearly used and loved stuffed dragon hanging from her other hand.
She likes dragons.
Got it.
“Actually, she won’t be sleeping in there, Lilah. You know that.”
I startle, letting out a mortifying yelp at the deep voice and whirl around, coming face to chest with Wes.
Holy pecs.
“Jesus, how long have you been standing there?” I ask before I have a chance to think before I speak.
He doesn’t answer, just scowls, brows so low his eyes are nearly closed. He scans my face briefly before his gaze flicks down to Delilah and my joined hands. It’s quiet for a beat, and before I have a chance to put my foot in my mouth and say something weird to break the tension, Delilah pipes up.
“But there’s nothing in the other room,” she whines.
“Miss Kayla liked it just fine, didn’t she?” Wes asks her with an arched brow.
“I guess,” Delilah grumbles, then pulls me to the closed door at the end of the hall, practically stomping in defiance.
She reluctantly gives me a glimpse of the guest room where I briefly see a plain bed, and not much else.
She shows me the bathrooms, quickly opening the doors, before slamming them again.
I roll my lips between my teeth, biting down on my smile at her utter lack of interest in showing me anything that’s not her room or her toys.
She introduces me to the plants in the hall and then drags me back to the living room where I quickly scan the open kitchen and dining room.
I don’t have a chance to get a good look because we’re suddenly stopped by a giant body stepping in front of us, halting our tour.
Delilah was just about to lead us through the small hallway just off the kitchen, when Wes blocks our path.
“That’s far enough,” Wes says in a gentle but stern tone.
Delilah stares up at him, and tilts her head. “But I want to show Iby your room,” she says so innocently I almost laugh again, but shut it down immediately.
That would definitely poke the bear.
“She doesn’t need to see my room, bug,” he replies.
Huh. Now I kind of want to.
Without thinking, I raise up onto my tiptoes to try and get a better look over his shoulder. Wes’s eyes dart to mine, the deep lines between his brows firmly back in their rightful place, silently scolding me.
I immediately drop down back onto flat feet, cringing at myself. That was not the right move.
“Fine,” Delilah sighs, full of sass, but she quickly corrects herself with a polite, “Okay, Daddy.” When he gives her another arch of his brow.
“Can I show her the pond?” she asks on a gasp.
“I don’t know if Ivy wants to do that,” he replies, looking at me for an answer, and it almost looks and sounds like he hopes I’ll decline.
I completely ignore any subtle signs he’s trying to send me, and give them my honest answer. “I’d love to see the pond,” I say, giving Delilah a genuine grin.
I hear grumbling from the tattooed bear, but can’t make out exactly what he says as he stomps around us, and leads us back through the house.
Delilah and I follow him out the door, and down the porch steps.
And just like when I first got here not twenty minutes ago, I’m left almost breathless by the view.
Delilah begins pulling a little harder on my hand as my steps slow so I can take in the pine covered mountains, and the bluest sky I’ve ever seen.
Damn.
It could be a few minutes, or ten, before we finally reach the water. I was so distracted by the scenery that I didn’t really pay attention to how long it took. I look out over the “pond” in question, and scoff.
“So… this is a lake,” I say.
“It’s a pond,” Wes replies, voice dripping with condescension.
I scrunch my nose, and whip my head to him. “But it’s huge,” I reply.
That’s what she said.
Don’t say it.
Damn it, but I have to.
“It’s a pond,” he says matter-of-factly, leaving no room for argument.
Oh thank god, I absolutely was going to say it.
I shrug and look out over the dark blue water, ignoring his terse tone. Sophie said he could be grumpy, so I’m not going to let it bother me.
Trees and large rocks covered in moss surround the shore, and I realize what a great place this would be to lay out come summer. It’s just around the corner, and I can definitely see Sophie and I day-drinking out here.
Delilah’s sweaty little hand slips from mine and grabs a stone from the shore.
“Watch this Iby,” she grunts.
Feet separated, she cranks her arm back and winds her entire body up like she’s about to launch the rock to the moon.
Her body releases, and she whips her arms through the air so hard, I expect it to sail out of her hand and make it halfway across the pond, except she releases too late, and it lands only a couple feet from her shoes, just barely making it into the water.
I slap a hand over my mouth to stop my outburst of laughter.
“Ugh!” Delilah practically growls, sounding eerily similar to her father.
I glance over to said man, and swear I could see a twitch of his lips, but it’s quickly covered with another cold expression when he catches my eye.
Delilah reaches into the pocket of her overalls, and pulls out a small pink ball.
“My bouncy ball will go far. Watch, Iby,” she huffs.
Before Wes gets a chance to stop her, she launches the tiny neon ball.
“Shit,” Wes mumbles, just as she releases.
The ball doesn’t hit the shore this time, but is thrown way off to the side. It doesn’t make it far into the pond, but just far enough to get lost in the tall grass a couple feet into the water.
“No!” Delilah shrieks—horrified—as if she didn’t understand the consequences of throwing her toy into a natural body of water.
She rushes toward it, but Wes and I stop her at the same time.
She starts to cry, and it makes my chest hurt so bad, I jog over to where I can just see the ball bobbing at the surface.
I mentally measure the distance from the dry shore, to the long stocks of grass her ball is tangled in.
I don’t think I could reach it without falling over into the water.
“Ivy, leave it. It’s fine. I’ll get it later.” I hear Wes’s stern voice mix with Delilah’s whine.
Wes is quietly telling her they will come back for it, but by the panic in her voice, this damn ball seems pretty important to her. I haven’t been around many toddlers, but I feel like this probably is her equivalent to me throwing my phone in the water.
Fuck it.
I grab the hem of my dress pants, and pull them up around my thighs until my calves are exposed. I step into the water, and wince at the bite of cold immediately filling my sneakers.
Probably could’ve taken those off. Oh well.
I wade through the slimy grass and easily grab the ball before stomping my heavy, muck covered feet back to shore, and over to Wes and Delilah.
“Here you go,” I say, smiling and holding the ball in my outstretched hand.
Delilah squeaks, releasing her dad’s leg she was hugging. “Thank you, Iby!” She takes the ball and wraps her arms around my legs in return.
I hug her back, and glance back up. My smile falters when I see the look on Wes’s face. It’s a mix between anger, shock, and maybe confusion. I’ve already made him mad.
Splendid.
“We’re going back to the house,” he barks, staring at my soaked shoes.
Without another word, he turns and heads back in the direction we came from.
His daughter and I are hot on his heels, and the squelch sound of each of my steps is the only sound until we’re ascending the porch once again.
I swear every squeak and splosh from my feet hike Wes’s shoulders higher and higher.
I glance down to Delilah—who is already staring at me—and wink. She giggles, and tries to wink back, but just blinks both of her eyes hard.
The three of us follow the wraparound porch to the side of the house to another set of steps.
“Sit,” Wes clips, pointing at a wooden step.
Feeling like I’m in trouble, I listen, dropping down to sit on the top step. “Please, Ivy. Why Yes, Wes, I’d love to,” I grumble under my breath.
Wes either doesn’t hear me, or ignores me entirely as his boots thunder down the stairs. He bends down to grab something, and quickly reappears with a garden hose.
“Shoes off,” he says, looking wholeheartedly annoyed to be doing this.
I roll my eyes, unable to stop myself, and stand. “I can do it,” I say, reaching out a hand.
He doesn’t hand over the nozzle. He stares blankly at me, waiting for me to comply. I feel my nostrils flare in frustration, and I force myself to take a deep breath.
Don’t piss off your brand new boss, Ivy.
I inhale, willing the snarky remark to remain inside my body.
Taking a seat, I start unlacing my shoes.
I slip off each one, followed by my socks, then straighten my legs on the steps.
Wes sprays down my muddy skin, and I wiggle my toes to make sure I get all of the questionable water off me.
He doesn’t seem to like that, and gives me a disapproving look, stopping the spray and tossing the soiled shoes on the ground.
He focuses the hose on them now, thoroughly cleaning the gunk and slimy grass off. Delilah and I sit side by side, silently watching him take his time inspecting every inch of my shoes. He’s crouched down, rubbing at a spot on the black fabric and white rubber like it personally wronged him.
Weird.
You’d think he’d be happy to send me on my way covered in muddy pond water.
Suddenly feeling strange that I’m barefoot with my pant legs still rolled up, probably resembling a professional pirate with my now untucked white button up, I stand and push my pant legs back down.
“I think that’s good,” I say.
Wes whips his head to the side, locking his blue eyes on me, before looking back down at what he was focusing on.
As if snapping out of it, he stands abruptly, shutting off the hose and sets my shoes on the step next to me.
The gentle way he places them down deeply contrasts the waves of tension rolling off of him.
“Thank you,” I say, leaning down to grab my shoes and wrung out socks. “You didn’t have to do that. Probably should’ve taken them off before I went into the water,” I add through a chuckle.
Standing a step above him, we’re nearly eye to eye when Wes runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the strands that fell into his eyes, before aggressively shoving it in his pocket.
His cool, flat expression settles back in.
“Yep. See you tomorrow.” is all he says before continuing up the stairs, scooping up Delilah, and taking her with him.
“Bye, Iby!” Delilah yells, waving enthusiastically over his shoulder.
I wave back, grinning. “Bye,” I reply, hoping it didn’t come out as awkwardly as it felt.
I think that’s my cue to get the hell out of here, and start to head back to my car.
“Wait,” Wes calls out.
I turn back and see him holding up a single finger in the front doorway. Curious, I wait patiently for a couple minutes before only Wes steps back outside of the door, and hands me a folded pair of black socks.
“Gravel hurts,” he says.
What in the hell? I drop my gaze to my still bare feet, and then back again to the socks.
“Oh…thanks,” I reply, plopping down on the wood boards to put them on. They’re huge, going almost all the way up my calf.
Oh. These are his socks.
“I’ll wash them and give them back tomorrow,” I say over my shoulder.
“Don’t,” he says a little harsher than necessary.
Okay, asshole.
I stand, grab my shoes again, and smile as politely as I can. “Um, alright then, thanks again. See you tomorrow.”
He dips his chin once, then turns around and steps back inside the house, slamming the door behind him.
I wave at the closed door. “Bye,” I whisper.
He’s just a peach. Feet swimming in humongous socks, I gingerly walk over the gravel drive to my car, and slip inside, tossing my shoes on to the passenger floor board. Don’t piss your new boss off, Ivy.
Too late.