Chapter 9
Wes
“That’s super awesome, babe,” Ivy agrees with me, nodding. I look over to judge her reaction. I hope that didn’t scare her. I know how much Lilah cares for Ivy, so I’m not surprised in the slightest at her declaration. Ivy doesn’t miss a beat, and high fives Lilah.
It makes my chest tighten the way it always does when these two interact.
“Dinner’s in a few. Go wash up, Lilah,” I say.
“Can Iby come?”
“Yes, she’s coming with us.”
“Hell yeah!” she shouts, already running into the house.
I close my eyes, and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Language, Delilah Mae!”
“Sorry, Daddy!” she calls back, sounding much further away, hopefully doing what I asked.
I open my eyes, and see Ivy’s hand clasped over mouth trying to stifle a laugh.
“Oh, that’s funny? My daughter having a potty mouth is amusing?” I ask, feigning sternness, when I know, it’s actually very funny.
She removes her hand from her mouth. “Yeah, it is.”
She’s smiling, and it’s like looking into the fucking sun.
My eyes rake over her face. Her bright green eyes are glassy from withheld laughter, freckles standing out a little more than normal, like the girls got a lot of sun today. Her dark hair falls around her shoulders nearly to her waist. She’s perfect.
“Yeah, it is,” I relent, which earns me a full, clear laugh from her.
“She doesn’t use that language with me, I swear. If she did, I’d correct it,” she adds, her tone shifting slightly, more serious now.
I wave her off. “She only does it around me or her uncles. Mav’s the one who taught her to say shit as one of her first words.” I roll my eyes. “He said it was a prank.”
She shakes her head, still laughing softly. “That actually doesn’t surprise me. I’ve met the man.”
Memories of Maverick talking about Ivy at the water park come back. He has a thing for her. Even if he said he was joking, I know my brother. Little does he know, he’s not getting anywhere near her. There’s no fucking way. Over my dead body.
She deserves someone who’s not with a new girl everytime I turn around. The idea of her dating my brother, or anyone for that matter, makes nausea roll in my gut. Wait, is she even single?
I wrack my brain for anything and everything I’ve heard from Sophie, my Mom, or Ivy herself. I don’t recall any relationship being mentioned. That makes the nausea ease a bit, but it shouldn’t matter, because she is off-limits.
I internally scoff at myself. Keep telling yourself that, jackass. Maybe a few more times, and you’ll believe it.
“I’m ready Daddy!” Lilah declares as she reappears on the porch wielding Burrito.
I nod, grateful for the interruption. “You ready?” I ask Ivy, shaking myself out of my spiral.
“Yep.”
Ivy takes Lilah’s hand and leads the way down the porch steps, heading up the gravel road.
I trail behind them, and my eyes catch on their joined hands.
They drift over, drawn helplessly to the way Ivy’s hips sway as she walks—like I’m under hypnosis.
That ass is so perfect it’s criminal. I shove my hands into my pockets, flexing my fingers as if to rid the itch to touch her.
I force myself to look away, and will myself not to do something stupid.
————
“These dumbass college kids were trying to take a picture with a cub today,” Lincoln grumbles as we set the table for dinner. “That’s the fifth ticket I’ve written this month. It’s getting out of control.” He shakes his head in annoyance, and I follow suit.
Lincoln’s been a Fish and Wildlife Officer for over a decade, and he has bitched about stuff like this pretty much the entirety of that. I know he loves his job though, and he’s damn good at it.
“How the fuck do you not know to stay away from a bear?” I ask him, dumbfounded.
“I don’t know, man. But I’m done talking about it. I’m going to start yelling again.”
The corner of my mouth lifts as he leaves the dining room in a huff, still muttering to himself. I set the last place setting down, and walk back into the kitchen to let Mom know the table’s done, and to see if she needs anything else before the chaos begins.
Instead of finding my mom, I find Ivy and Maverick talking at the large kitchen island.
They’re standing way too close for my liking.
Maverick has his hip leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, wearing his infamous devil-may-care smile.
Ivy’s back is to me, standing with her hand on her popped hip.
I see her shoulders shake from laughter at something my brother said, and I can feel my blood pressure rise.
Lilah and Sophie are also in here, but they’re distracted, grabbing utensils for each dish.
Don’t go over there. You’ve only known her for a week, and you have absolutely no claim over her. Do not go over there.
“Unclench your jaw, son. People might think you’ve got a problem with what’s going on over there.”
I tense at the low but familiar voice.
I look behind me to see my dad standing with his hands in his pockets. His short, white as snow hair is still as thick as ever, and his wire-rimmed glasses reflect what I was just staring at.
I scoff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe you’re going senile.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Your lie. Tell it how you want it.”
I roll my eyes and walk away from him, intending to grab Lilah to wash up for dinner. Before I have a chance to grab her, I see Ivy reach up and place her hand on Mav’s cheek. I stop dead in my tracks. He looks down at her, grinning like the cocky bastard he is, so sure he’s got her.
That is, until she pats his cheek, twice, like he’s a child. Condescension drips from the gesture, and his face falls flat.
“No thanks, I’m good,” she says before spinning on her heel and marches out of the kitchen.
She breezes right by without sparing me a glance. Our shoulders brush on her way out, and it sends an electric current straight down my arm. I turn to watch her leave, but she doesn’t look back.
I face forward again and make eye contact with Maverick, narrowing my eyes. He just shrugs, completely unbothered, popping a cherry tomato in his mouth from the top of a salad next to him.
“Chill, Wes. I was just playin’ around,” he says with a low chuckle as I approach him.
“Well, that’s done with. Understand?” My voice is flat and cold. I feel like if I could shoot lasers out of my head, it’d be now. I glare at him, hoping he gets the gravity of what I’m saying.
His brows raise. “Oh shit, okay. I got you. Message received, big bro.”
Good.
I shove a tray of food into his hands harder than necessary, then grab one myself. We both head towards the dining room, and with him slightly in front of me, I kick his right foot into his left calf.
He trips, but annoyingly recovers easily, then attempts to shove me into the wall. I pause my stride, making him miss me entirely and fall into the wall himself, spilling salad onto the floor just as Mom bursts in.
“For crying out loud, boys,” she scolds, arms thrown out wide. “You are grown men!”
We both laugh, and I leave Mav to clean up the mess on the floor.
“Some of us,” I mutter under my breath, but I know he hears me.
“Fuck you, Wes!” he shouts in response.
I distantly hear my mom snapping at him, and I smirk.
In the dining room, I see Ivy helping Lilah into her seat before handing her the cup of chocolate milk she was balancing in one hand. She slides down into the chair beside her just as I walk over.
I rest my hand on the back of Ivy’s chair, leaning down close to her ear, so she can hear me over the chaos that is my family.
“You need something to drink?” I ask her quietly.
She jolts, obviously not expecting me so close. She turns her head slightly, meeting my eye, nearly bringing us nose to nose. Her tongue traces her bottom lip and my eyes flick down to stare at the shine it leaves behind. Fuck. She smells sweet, and clean.
“Um, water please,” she breathes out.
Her tone is just like this morning when she said my name.
I’d convinced myself I was exaggerating how hot her soft voice was.
Nope, not exaggerating. I stand back to my full height, and get her a water bottle from the fridge.
When I return, I set it in front of Ivy without a word, then move down to sit on the other side of Lilah.
“Thank you,” Ivy says quietly, and I dip my chin in response.
Everyone is in their seats now, dishing out food. The sound of utensils banging on serving dishes, and plates clinking together fills the room.
“So, Ivy. How was your first week? My son givin’ you a hard time?” My dad asks Ivy across the table with a grin.
Ivy takes the dish of rice from Lincoln and responds while serving herself. “No, not at all. Wesley and Delilah have been wonderful.”
At the sound of Ivy calling me by my full name, everyone pauses, silence cloaking the room. They look at me, then Ivy, then at each other. It’s only for a second, but Ivy notices. My dad looks at me with a self-satisfied smile. I do not return it.
“Well, good. Glad to hear it,” he says, offering Ivy a wink.
“Sophie, what the hell happened with James? Irene swore to me he was a good man,” my mother says, taking pity on me and changing the subject.
Everyone’s attention immediately shifts away from us, and the racket of dinner resumes.
Sophie glares daggers at me from across the table and I wince back at her, hoping it conveys my guilt. I heard about that douchebag, James. He’s not a good man. In fact, I’ve heard around town how not good he is, and over my dead body will he come around Soph again.
“Did I say something wrong?” Ivy whispers, leaning closer to me.
I scoop Mac and Cheese onto Lilah’s plate, and Lilah pretends Burrito is eating, pecking the fuzzy mouth at it like a chicken.
“No,” I whisper back, shaking my head.
She nods once, still frowning, obviously confused by everyone's reaction.
“Bug, if you do that, we’ll have to wash Burrito tonight and you won’t get to sleep with her.”