Chapter 14 Ivy
Ivy
There are marble floors, stunning hardwoods, and the most beautiful rugs you can imagine.
There is some kind of plaster embossing in various areas of the walls, bringing a charm that makes me drool.
The huge stone fireplaces and beautifully detailed doorways beg to be photographed.
I never realized how high class I am. Excuse me while I pass out.
The most mind-blowing thing of all is … to Alex this is normal.
He grew up here. He has no idea how normal people live.
I mean, I don’t know how he could. Maybe he has done something to try to relate with the gutter rats in the rest of society.
Maybe when he moved to America, he only took the clothes on his back and a smile.
A gorgeous smile, which most people would say he’d needed to leave at home as well if he were truly trying to see how the world works for the average person.
He could be a world-class snob, and I’d hardly be able to fault him for it, but he hasn’t come across that way in the least.
A woman meets us in the kitchen—a utilitarian, but still beautiful, space. She is perhaps in her late fifties or early sixties, with beautiful silver hair put up in a perfect messy bun. I love the look.
“Oh. Alexander, and you’ve brought guests! Hello!”
Alex introduces everyone, and a chorus of greetings meets her.
It takes about thirty seconds for Mrs. Brown to completely charm us all.
There’s just something about her. I don’t know if it’s her accent or her grandmotherly ways, or likely both.
The kids don’t really have any grandparents in their lives.
Micah’s parents live in Oregon, and, of course, our mom isn’t a grandmother, like she was never a real mother.
Mrs. Brown takes the kids to the pantry to choose a snack to have with their sandwich. I get the feeling she could steal the children away, and everyone involved—children included— would shrug and assume it was for the best.
Rain is softly hitting the glass roof of the indoor pool.
It, like the rest of the house, doesn’t disappoint.
Glass arches above us, and exotic-looking plants line the walls.
The space has obviously been updated to keep up with pool technology, but it was done in a way that didn’t interrupt the historic charm.
I want to be put off by the fact that there are people who live like this, but I’m not. And watching Alex humbly answering Micah’s questions about the place does nothing to aid in that.
Alex drops a stack of pale green towels on a table and pulls off his shirt.
It’s nothing that I, and the whole world, haven’t seen before, but in person?
In person he’s a whole other thing. My eyes are trying to figure out where to start with all the dips and ridges, when he catches my gaze, a playful smirk lighting his face.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he says as he approaches me.
“It’s lovely in here. Do you tend to all the plants?”
He laughs. “Yes, I fly in each time they need watering.” He pauses and looks around the space.
“My mum was the master gardener. She loved her garden in the warm months, but wanted more when it was cold out. I remember when they were small. They looked silly in this huge room, but now … she would have been so pleased with how they look.”
I smile softly, wondering at how he feels. Mom was lost to us ages ago, really we never had her, but I imagine losing Val and I think maybe I can understand.
“How long has she been gone?”
“Two years this coming September. Lost them both in a car crash.” Alex pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“Oh my gosh. How awful.” I rub my hand along his upper arm and refuse to feel his muscle there. Now isn’t the time. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was certainly awful, but I’m alright now.” He smiles at the sound of Peter yelling and jumping in the pool. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to bring down the mood. Let’s swim.”
He turns and walks toward the pool while I pull off the t-shirt I’d been using as a coverup. His eyes are on me as I walk to the stairs, and he looks like a man entranced. I wouldn’t consider my vintage-cut, coral-and-white striped swimsuit terribly sexy, but given Alex’s face, he would disagree.
I sigh as I step into the water. What is even happening right now?
“Hey, Mr. Henry! Will you score me when I jump in?” Peter calls from across the pool.
“Sure. Am I scoring for style?”
“I guess so. Rate it from one to ten.”
I float around the pool—the forgotten cool aunt—as Alex rates both the kids as they do various jumps and dives into the water. The man has endless patience. I would have encouraged them to do something else after ten or so jumps.
“Well, he’s good with kids.” Val surprises me, whispering over my shoulder.
“Yes. He’s made that abundantly clear all day.”
“Hmm. He also made it abundantly clear that he wants to—”
“Yeah, yeah.” I interrupt, looking over my shoulder at my grinning sister, who shrugs and swims off. I certainly don’t need her telling me what I already know. This man is sucking me into his vortex fast.
Movement draws my eye to the water in front of me. I expected it to be one of the kids; instead, it’s Alex. He pops up, dripping water just like he did in that movie. What was it called? I don’t think my brain’s working.
He stands close. I look over his shoulder and find my family engrossed in a game of Marco Polo. The back of his hand grazes mine, and my eyes find his again.
“Hey, you,” he says, looking at me with wonder. Or maybe surprise.
“Hello.” I swallow as his eyes bore into mine. The intensity makes me uncomfortable, so I search my brain for something, anything, to say. “You have an excellent house.”
He laughs, tangling his fingers with mine. Not holding them … more like … playing with them. The simple sensation threatens to melt me right into the water of this pool.
“You made that clear earlier when you couldn’t keep your mouth from hanging open.”
I cover my mouth with my hand and feel the tiniest amount of heat filling my cheeks. He steps slightly closer and slowly pulls my hand down. “No need to be embarrassed. I’m a big fan of your mouth, and it gave me another reason to look.”
When I didn’t, couldn’t, respond, he continues in hushed tones. “Would you like me to tell you the other reasons I like your mouth?”
“I got you!” Peter screams as he and Micah crash near us, bringing me back to the reality of where we are and who we’re with.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” I say in a panic.
When I come out of the bathroom a couple of minutes later, Alex is standing in the hallway looking as handsome as ever, but shockingly sheepish.
“I’m sorry I followed you. I … I just …” He cuts the distance between us in half.
“I don’t know. There’s just something about you that makes me feel the need to be near you.
” He comes to stand right in front of me, almost trapping me between himself and the wall.
“I don’t know what it is, and I certainly can’t explain the insanity of feeling like this after knowing you for two days, but I …
you …” He smooths a damp curl out of my face, sending my pulse skyrocketing.
“You have the most beautiful hair.” His sheepishness is gone as he gently slides his hand down my jaw to cup my chin, slowly bringing his thumb to my lower lip and torturously moving along its surface.
Once again, my brain refuses to work. “I mentioned I’m a big fan of your mouth.
” My breaths stutter as he erases the space between us and sets his cheek against mine, then whispers, “You have the most perfect pink lips, and I’m always finding myself on the edge of my seat waiting for what you’ll say next.
That’s why I love your mouth, in case you were wondering. ”
Then he steps back and walks toward the pool, leaving me in a puddle behind him.
The man shocks me at every turn. Less than forty-eight hours with him has made me want to have eight black-haired, blue-eyed babies with accent confusion.
Ideally, they would have his accent, but if we lived in North Carolina, that wouldn’t last. We could visit England frequently, but that would cost a fortune.
Not that that would matter, I guess. Good grief.
No. I’m not looking for complicated. I’m looking for someone who simplifies things.
Not for someone who would absolutely turn things upside down.
Right now, I’m tilting, but need to bring myself upright again.