Chapter 8
Ivy
Seeing Wes for the first time after Friday night was nerve-wracking. I didn’t know if he would be weird, or cold again—even though he claimed he was sorry for being a douche.
My biggest worry though, was how to act around him after what I’m calling, The Porch Incident.
The way his hand slid down my back and held me to him.
As quick as it was, it put me in some sort of trance.
Like I was ready for anything he was about to do to me.
Like he wasn’t my boss who didn’t like me.
Thank the mother above Delilah knocked some sense into us, and yelled for dinner. He got so…weird afterward, and I’ve come to the conclusion it’s because he didn’t mean to touch me like that. Even still, I felt dizzy all the way home.
I decided I wasn’t going to apologize to him. He’s the one who got a little handsy. Yes, I know I initiated the hug, but damn, I was excited. He offered me the job, and I just got so overwhelmed, I let nature take over.
Sue me.
He just had to go and touch me like that, get me all riled, then move on like it was nothing. Not only that, but he dismissed my ass right off his stupidly beautiful porch when I tried to talk about it.
The fucking audacity.
Like the last seventeen times I’ve had this discussion with myself over the weekend, I tell myself to let it go. Move on. It was a strange glitch in the matrix that does not need to be observed any further. He offered me the job, but isn’t my biggest fan, and I need to remember that.
I told Sophie I didn’t think it was a good idea to join them at the water park, and that I didn’t want to cross any lines that Wes may have. It was only my first week. As much as I wanted to go and see Delilah—I missed her like crazy—I knew it was best if I kept my distance.
My decision seemed to be the right choice, considering I started writing a little bit. I’ve always loved reading and writing. Back in high school and college I wrote quite a few short stories and some fanfiction. Mainly Twilight fanfiction where Bella ends up with Carlisle.
This weekend, I wrote down a few thoughts and ideas, and decided it would be fun to try and write what I love reading—romance novels. More specifically, paranormal romance novels.
Wes giving me this job, is allowing me to do the thing I love for the first time in a long time, and I’m incredibly grateful. I’m actually giddy from the thought of being able to focus on my writing. My mind has already gone off the deep end with all things that could come from this.
“Eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Ready or not, here I come!” I hear Delilah yell.
I have to hold my hand over my mouth to stop from actually giggling. I’m currently squished in a kitchen cupboard. My knees are crowded against my chest, and my feet are crammed against my ass. I’m trying to breathe as quietly as possible so Delilah doesn’t hear me.
She is shockingly good at hide-and-seek. You’d think I could just have to hop behind the sofa, or behind a bedroom door, but no. She looks everywhere, and always finds me way too fast. So I’ve had to get creative.
My phone's text chime sounds, echoing through the cabinet. Silence follows, as I hold my breath, praying the tiny seeking terrorist didn’t hear it. To my dismay, the cabinet door flies open, and I feel a gust of fresh, cool oxygen.
“Gotcha!” Delilah roars triumphantly.
Damn. That was a good hiding place.
“Dang it. You’re too good at this game.” I sigh in defeat as I awkwardly fall out of the cupboard and onto the hardwood with a groan. I’m not as nimble as I once was.
She cackles maniacally and runs around the house screaming about how she’s the winner. I’ve created a monster.
I pull my phone out to see the text that gave me away.
It’s a text from the last person I expected.
Wesley. We exchanged numbers after he gave me the job on a trial basis, but neither of us have used them.
Until now. A hoard of wings takes flight in my stomach as I tap the screen to view his message.
Wesley: Hey Ivy, it’s Wes. Family dinner is at 5:30 p.m. up at my parents’ place. They would love it if you could come, if you’re not busy.
His parents would love it if I came to dinner. Not him. Okay, that’s fine. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
Another text comes through.
Wesley: Also, I’d like to talk to you about something.
“My turn to hide, Iby. Count to one hundred, okay? Ready set go!”
I’m not even given a chance to respond before she runs away, her voice getting more distant as she shouts to me.
“One, two, three, four…” I yell back to her as I refocus my attention back to the conversation with her dad.
Ivy: Dinner sounds great, no plans here.
Ivy: Also, Ok. That doesn’t sound scary at all.
Wesley: Great. And nothing scary, just a favor to ask.
Ivy: I love to give favors.
Oh my god.
Ivy: Woah, not like that. I just meant yes I’ll do you a favor.
Ivy: A professional favor of course.
I love to give favors?
I must have a fetish, with all the feet I stuff into my fucking mouth. “Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven!” I yell out to the house.
Ding.
Oh no. I open Wes’s reply and look down at the screen with my head turned slightly away, glancing out the side of my eye, like my phone is a bomb about to explode.
Wesley: Thanks. I’m sure you’re great at favors.
I toss my head back and laugh.
Ivy: Wesley Simon Cooper, was that a joke?
Wesley: I am capable of making them, as much as I’ve given you reason to believe the opposite. Not my middle name, by the way. Did you like the burrito?
Ivy: Well color me surprised, he jokes. The dragon? She’s lovely. She’s currently hiding with Delilah, waiting for me to seek.
Wesley: Not the dragon, the breakfast.
Oh. I totally forgot. I walk over and open the microwave.
“Seventy-one, seventy-two!” I yell again.
I spot the burrito and close the door to heat it. When the timer ends, I take it out and take a massive bite. My eyes roll. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was. I grab my phone again and start texting.
Ivy: It’s amazing, thank you.
Wesley: No problem. I love to give favors too.
My eyes widen and I choke on a piece of bacon. Okay, well Wes is loosening up. I finish my burrito in four more bites, then set off to find Delilah.
————
The rest of our day was fun—as usual. We took a walk around the property and collected as many pine cones as we could. So much, that at one point we made a beeline back to the house to grab a bag for them. Delilah collected as many as she could before declaring she was hot and hungry for lunch.
Her little freckles on her nose have become more apparent from the blazing sun. Mine are probably doing the same. Thank goodness I put some sunscreen on us before we left the house.
After lunch and the mandatory popsicles, we found ourselves back outside and on the porch.
Delilah and I have our collection of specially selected pine cones spread out in front of us, organizing them into categories.
I suggested sorting by size, but Delilah insisted on separating them by families, so we now have six pine cone families populating the front porch.
When I look up at the sound of crunching gravel, I see Wesley pulling up the drive. I frown in confusion, then look at my phone and see that it’s already five. Huh. This day flew by.
“Are you that displeased to see me?” Wes asks as he hops out of his truck, a hint of teasing in his voice.
I realize too late that my expression must’ve looked less surprised and more what’re you doing here?
“Hey, bug,” he greets his daughter, walking up the porch steps. He kisses her head, then meets my eye.
“Hi, Daddy,” she replies monotone, tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration.
Her eyes haven't left the array of pine cones in front of her, as she switches around a few of them.
“No, I just didn’t think it was already five o’clock,” I say through a chuckle as I stand up and dust the dirt off my butt. I tilt my chin high, looking up at him. He’s so tall and broad.
Sigh.
Wesley nods as he looks down at Delilah, hands tucked into his pockets. I take the opportunity to really look at him. I stare at his massive, corded forearms. At his tattoos moving up his hands, disappearing under the sleeve of his T-shirt, and at his equally massive biceps.
I hear a throat clear, and my eyes snap up to his. He’s smirking, fully aware of my ogling. I try not to blush, and hold my head high, pretending I don’t want to melt into the floorboards.
“Busy work days tend to fly by,” he says, eyes lit with amusement and wearing the smuggest expression.
I shrug, glancing back down to the four-year-old who’s quickly become one of my favorite people. “Yeah, well, we just had a fun day. It doesn’t really feel like work watching her.”
His teasing look vanishes instantly. His expression softens a touch, then he looks back down at Delilah when she starts to speak.
“These are the pine cone families,” Delilah spreads her arms wide, showing us all her hard work. “But this one is ours. This one’s me,” she points to a cute, tiny pine cone she found by the pond. “This one is Daddy, because it’s giant,” she rattles on.
“Thanks,” Wesley mutters under his breath, and I snort, biting back a smile.
“This is Nana and Papa, and this is Iby.” She beams up at us, proud of herself.
I freeze.
I quickly slice my gaze to Wesley to gauge his reaction. I have no idea what to say. Wesley doesn’t seem fazed. He just gives his daughter a warm smile and replies, “That’s awesome, Lilah. I love it.”
My eyes sting a little, and I take a steadying breath through my nose, willing it to pass. It’s stupid. They’re fucking pine cones. Arranged by a toddler I’ve known for a little over a week.
But she picked one for me.
I haven’t had a family in the eight years since my parents passed.
Even with Daniel, I was always just “Daniel’s girlfriend” to his family.
We had been together for years, yet I still didn’t make the cut for a fucking family photo.
But now I have Sophie, and Rose… but this just feels different.
Her declaring I’m a part of them, even as her nanny, even through a damned wooden pretend family, means everything to me.