Chapter 10
Ivy
Careful.
Wes’s deep voice repeats over and over in my head as I drive home.
If I’m being honest, I’m obsessively replaying every single detail.
What started as playful and flirty, quickly turned into something darker.
Something tempting. I tighten my grip on my steering wheel and take a deep breath, trying to get my thoughts in order.
God, he was so close and he smelled so good.
I don’t know if it was his cologne, deodorant, or just his natural hot guy smell.
My mind wanders against my will, wondering what would’ve happened if I just reached up and ran my fingers through his hair like he does?
Or traced his full lips with my finger the way I wanted to. The thought makes my stomach flip.
I shake my head, then my whole body, trying to physically rid myself of the inappropriate thoughts.
He’s made it clear this arrangement is strictly professional, so I need to stop reading into and overthinking every look he gives me.
One thing I will stand by though... he was totally checking out my ass when he walked me to my car.
I pull into Rose’s driveway and put my car in park. I stare at the house key attached to the light green key chain in my hand while I try to unscramble my brain. I roll my eyes at myself. Just be a professional adult and don’t fuck him. It can’t be that hard.
I hop out of my car and see Rose’s lamp is still on in the window.
I’ll catch her before she goes to bed to let her know about going out of town with Wes and Delilah.
I knock lightly on her front door, then use the key she made me to enter.
I find her where I expect her to be, in her recliner, sipping a glass of red wine, and watching one of her shows.
Rose startles. “Jesus H. Christ Ivy, you scared the shit out of me,” she huffs, then takes another sip.
“Sorry,” I say through a laugh.
“How was dinner?” she asks.
“It was great, the Coopers are fun. Wes is great. Delilah’s great,” I tell her, then step inside, closing the door behind me.
She hums in response, and stares at me pointedly over the rim of her wine glass.
“Hmm? What?” I ask.
“Hmmm,” she hums again.
“Rose.”
“Forgive me my darling, it appears I’m two sheets to the wind,” she says before setting her glass on the table beside her. “This Wes, is he handsome? I know the Coopers have three boys. Which one is the cutest?”
“Wes. By far. Like you wouldn’t believe.” I sigh and fall into the neighboring recliner. I turn my head to face her.
“Oh yes, this is good,” Rose says, more to herself than me.
“It’s not. He’s my boss. I just got fired, remember? I don’t need that to happen again. Plus, I want to write. This job gives me that freedom. I can’t mess this up just because he’s gorgeous.”
“Oh, please. Go for it. Life’s too short. If the man is willing to provide orgasms, take as many as you can get. It's the perfect inspiration for your vampire porn,” she says, waving her arm in the air dramatically.
“It’s not porn…” I trail off.
It kind of is, but it’s more than that. It’s romance. She doesn’t get it. She’s old and wacky. I wave off her raised eyebrow.
“Also, I don’t think Sophie would appreciate me screwing her brother after getting me the job as her niece’s nanny,” I add on.
“Sophie is the sweetest thing, and would not give a damn as long as you were happy and you know it,” Rose says, wine glass back in hand and tilting it toward me like an accusatory finger.
I do know it. After dinner tonight when we were clearing our plates, she mouthed “Wesley?” to me from across the table. Then waggled her eyebrows. Whatever that means. But she didn’t seem mad.
“Who's to say he’s even interested,” I say, picking at the fraying thread on the recliner.
She looks me up and down, then rolls her eyes. “He’s a man, honey. Of course he’s interested,” she says, scoffing.
I roll my eyes right back at her.
“This is not why I came over here.” I rub the heels of my hands into my eyes.
“Out with it then,” she orders feistily.
“Wes has to go to Texas for work next month. He doesn’t like to be away from Delilah for that long, so he asked if I’d come with them to watch her while he works.”
“And?”
“And,” I draw out, “I want to make sure your daughter will be around for the few days I’m gone.”
I do my best to say it casually, like it’s no big deal. It doesn’t work.
She stares blankly at me. “Girl, if you’re telling me that you’re making a decision based on whether or not you think I will be alright without you, I will skin your hide.”
“I only mean–”
“No.” She holds her hand up to cut me off.
“I have lived on my own for a very long time. I will be alright for the few days you are gone.” She holds up three fingers for emphasis.
“If it will make you go, I will tell Catherine to come for lunch on one of those days. Happy?” she huffs, then begins muttering under her breath about me being up in her business.
I hold up my hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, geez. Sorry for caring about you.”
“You’re forgiven. Now, help me up, the rigor mortis is settin’ in.”
I hate that joke.
I stand, grabbing both of her hands, and pulling until she’s standing. It takes zero effort on my part. She’s probably five feet tall at most, and a hundred pounds soaking wet.
“Thank you my dear. Now, be gone. I’m tired.”
“Yes ma’am.” I laugh, and do what she asks.
————
Ivy: Home.
Wesley: Good.
Ivy: I talked to Rose. I’m good to go to Texas.
Wesley: Thank you, I appreciate it. Did she beat your ass like you thought?
Ivy: Just about, yep.
Wesley: You don’t have to let anyone else know?
Ivy: Like who? Soph? I’ll just tell her the next time I see her, or I’ll text her.
Wesley: I meant like a boyfriend, girlfriend, partner.
Ivy: Nope. None of those to report to.
Wesley: Good night, Ivy.
Ivy: Night, Wesley.
————
The weeks fly by. I spend my days with Delilah. I have brief, but professional interactions with Wesley where I secretly fantasize about what he looks like naked, or how he spends his evenings when I leave. I go home, eat, write, and sleep.
Repeat.
Thankfully, I think Wesley and I are on the same page, remembering that we are boss, and employee, and should behave as such.
Our exchanges have been friendly, but short.
Nothing like the cold shoulder I got in the beginning, but also nothing like when he walked me to my car, or hugged me on the porch.
We only speak when it’s in regards to Delilah, when I text that I am home safe every night, per his request, or when he’s telling me what I’m having for breakfast every morning.
The fantasy thing is just my secret little hobby.
My guilty pleasure, if you will. That part has been really fun, if not a bit torturous.
I asked Wes if I could start taking Delilah into town.
I’ve wanted to visit Rose, get some ice cream, or maybe take Delilah to the park.
My request was met with him giving my car a very thorough inspection, before deeming it safe enough for his daughter.
He made sure the booster was properly installed, giving me the green light to drive Delilah around.
I fist pumped the air while holding Delilah, and she followed suit. That earned me an eye roll and the tiniest amused smile. It was devastatingly beautiful. One day I’ll see him actually smile, and it’ll probably knock me on my ass.
Delilah and I have been to see Rose a few times.
We usually bake cookies, watch jeopardy, and play checkers.
And when I say play checkers, I mean Delilah moves her pieces wherever she wants and Rose tries not to scold her for it.
It’s incredibly entertaining to watch. The last time we went, Rose made Delilah help her organize her yarn. They both loved it.
A couple days ago, my stupidly handsome boss asked if I could do an overnight with Delilah this weekend due to an evening appointment that would take quite awhile.
I often wonder what he looks like tattooing someone.
Having no tattoos myself, I’m not very familiar with the process, but I bet he looks hot doing it.
Today is Saturday, and my very first overnight with Delilah. I grab my small duffel out of the back seat of my car, and slam the door shut. I hustle up the steps of the large front porch, excited to have a sleepover with my girl, when the door flies open, and Delilah comes barreling out.
“Sleepober!” she squeals.
I catch her mid-jump, and my steps stagger, almost tripping over myself. Before I even get the chance to steady us, warm large hands wrap around my ribs, doing it for me. I look up and see the man who occupies my every dirty, filthy thought at night, with a small frown on his face.
“You guys alright?” he asks with genuine worry on his face. We didn’t get hurt, or even fall for that matter.
“Yeah, we’re good,” I reply, as Delilah and I both giggle.
He nods. Then, at the same time, we realize he’s still gripping my entire abdomen in his palms. He pulls back so fast, you’d think I just told him I have the plague—or lice. I force myself not to take it personally. He ushers us inside, and I drop my things in a heap at the door.
“Thanks again,” Wesley says.
“You don’t need to keep thanking me, it’s my job.” I chuckle.
“Right.” He gives me the awkward flat smile.
“Well, she’ll probably want dinner in a half hour, then she’ll need a bath and a story—like how I showed you the other day.
” He went through a step-by-step explanation on how their bedtime routine went.
It was incredibly endearing. “I should be home by midnight, but you’ll probably be asleep by then. ”
I probably won’t. I’ll probably still be writing, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Wesley.”
“Yeah?”
“We’re good. I got this. We’re going to have an awesome time. Aren’t we, babe?” I ask Delilah, who’s still clung to me like a koala.
“Yeah!” she yells directly into my ear, and I wince.