Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Wyatt
It’s Friday morning, and I’m just about ready to head out and pick up Ivy for our trip to Phoenix.
“Did you decide where you’re taking Ivy tomorrow?” Mom asks as I step into the living room to say goodbye.
“Yeah. We’re going to the butterfly conservatory, then she wants to check out the Cardinals stadium.”
She raises an eyebrow. “The stadium? I thought she wasn’t into football.”
I laugh. “She wasn’t. I’ve converted her.”
She rolls her eyes. “Let’s just hope you haven’t bored her senseless with football talk.”
“Wow, thanks, Mom. Good to know you think my career is that dull,” I say, grinning.
She gets up from the couch, smiling as she walks over. Her hand cups my face. “You know I couldn’t be prouder of you, Wyatt. You’re doing what you love, and not many people can say that.”
I arch a brow. “Feels like there’s a ‘but’ coming.”
She steps back, shaking her head. “No ‘but.’ You’re passionate, and it sounds like Ivy sees that too.” She hesitates, then adds with a knowing smile, “She’s a sweetheart.”
I roll my eyes. I know where this is going, especially after telling her Ivy’s helping me find a new place and listing my apartment in Phoenix.
“She’s great,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. “I should go. Don’t want to be late.”
“Have fun,” Mom says with a wink.
I give her a quick wave as I head out, grabbing my overnight bag from the entryway.
Most of my formal clothes are already at my apartment, so I’ve only packed the essentials.
It’s a good thing too. My car’s trunk isn’t exactly spacious, and I forgot to give Ivy a heads-up.
Hopefully, she doesn’t bring her entire closet.
A few minutes later, I pull into her driveway and cut the engine.
Climbing out, I head up the porch steps and knock lightly on the front door.
Within seconds, it swings open, and Ivy appears, looking effortlessly gorgeous in black yoga pants and a fitted tank.
Her dark hair is tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face.
She’s not wearing any makeup, and her smile lights up the doorway.
“You’re right on time,” she says, stepping aside to let me in. “Come on in. I’ll just get my things.”
I step inside and close the door behind me, spotting her overnight bag by the stairs. Relief washes over me. It’s about the same size as mine, so it'll fit in the trunk without a problem.
I watch as she sits on the bottom step, lacing up her sneakers.
“Just this?” I ask, reaching down to grab the bag.
“Yep, that and my dress for tomorrow night. I just need to grab it from my room. Be right back.”
She jogs up the stairs, and despite my best efforts, my eyes follow her, landing on the way those yoga pants hug her ass. I shut my eyes and drop my head with a quiet groan.
“She’s your friend, Wyatt. Just your friend,” I mutter under my breath.
“You okay?” Ivy calls, and I snap my head up to see her coming back down, dress bag in hand.
“Yep, all good,” I reply quickly, praying she didn’t hear me. “Ready to hit the road?”She nods, and I take the dress bag from her while she locks up. I’m just loading her things into the trunk, at the front on this model, when she suddenly lets out a squeal.
“You brought the red one!”
I laugh as I glance over my shoulder. “You did say it was your favorite.”
Her grin is instant, but her attention quickly moves to the car. I swallow hard as I watch her take it in, her eyes lighting up. I never thought I could be jealous of a car, but as she slowly circles it, trailing her fingers along the glossy paintwork, I realize I absolutely am.
“It’s beautiful, Wyatt,” she says.
“It was my first big splurge after making it. I’d always dreamed of owning a Ferrari as a kid.”
She smiles. “So, it’s your favorite too?”
I nod, smiling back. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
Especially now I know she loves it.
“I thought you said on Wednesday your car was in the shop?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Okay, that was a small white lie. I didn’t want you to know I’d brought the Ferrari until today. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
She lets out a laugh. “Well, consider me surprised.”
“Want to take it for a spin?”
Her eyes go wide, jaw dropping. “Seriously?” she breathes.
I laugh. “Sure. I trust you.”
“Okay!” she says, practically bouncing. “My dad’s never going to believe this.”
“He into cars?”
She nods. “Big time. But I doubt he’s ever been near anything like this.”
“Is he home now?” I ask, an idea sparking.
She grins. “Should be. Why?”
I smile. “Why don’t you drive over and show him? We’ve got time.”
She bites her lower lip, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and gently pull it free.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Let’s go.”
I walk over to the driver’s side and open the door for her, watching as she slides into the seat.
“This is amazing,” she breathes, eyes wide as she takes in the interior.
I lean in, reaching across her to buckle her seatbelt before crouching down beside her. “You can use the paddle shifters to change gears,” I explain, pointing them out. “Or I can just set it to auto.”
She giggles, and something in my chest tightens. “Auto, definitely. I’m already nervous enough driving this thing. That’s one less thing to worry about.”
“Don’t be nervous. It’s just a car.”
She scoffs. “Yeah, a ridiculously expensive car.”
I laugh. “You’ll be fine.”
I shut her door and jog around the hood, slipping into the passenger seat. “Ready?”
“I think so,” she says, beaming as she hands me her purse, then grips the wheel tightly.
“Foot on the brake, then press the start button,” I say with a grin.
She nods, jumping slightly when the engine roars to life. Her wide eyes meet mine, and I smile, reaching over to put it into reverse.
“Okay, you’re good to go.”
She eases down on the gas, and the car rolls smoothly off the driveway. The street is quiet, but I get why she’s being so careful. Once we’re on the road, I lean over again and flick it into drive.
“Go wild,” I tease.
She laughs, then slowly accelerates. After a few blocks of cautious crawling, I glance at her with a smirk. “How far away do your parents live? At this rate, we’ll get there by tomorrow.”
“Do you want me to crash?” she shoots back, leaning forward in full concentration.
“You’re not going to crash, Ivy. Someone’s more likely to rear-end us because we’re going so slow.”
She sticks out her tongue without looking away from the road, making me chuckle.
“Fine,” she huffs, pressing a little harder on the gas. The engine growls, and her eyes widen again.
“You’re doing great,” I assure her.
“This is so nerve-racking. I’d be a wreck if this were actually mine.”
“You’d be fine. You’re only this cautious because it’s not yours.”
“This is it,” she says a moment later, turning into the driveway of a two-story house with a wide wrap-around porch. I’ve known Ivy forever, but I’ve never actually met her parents.
She shuts off the engine and turns to face me, her entire face lit up.
“That was incredible,” she says. “I’m gonna call my dad. He has to see this. I hope he’s home.”
I pass her the purse, and she quickly digs out her phone, finding the number in her contacts. I can hear her dad’s voice come through the line.
“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”
“Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m good. Are you home?”
“I am. Why?”
“Come outside. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
He chuckles. “All right, I’m coming.”
She hangs up and drops the phone in her lap, her hands back on the wheel like she’s not quite ready to let go.
“He’s coming,” she says, her eyes fixed on the front door like an excited kid on Christmas morning.
When it swings open, she waves him over and hops out of the car.
“What are you doing in that?” he asks, his eyebrows raised as he looks from her to me.
I step out too and follow them as she grabs his hand.
“Wyatt and I are heading to Phoenix for the weekend,” Ivy says quickly. “I told you he’s selling his apartment and I’m handling the listing. He picked me up in this and let me drive it over so you could see it.”
She’s practically bouncing with excitement, and I can’t help but smile. I step forward and offer her dad my hand.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. James.”
He returns the handshake with a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you too, Wyatt. Call me Tom.”
Before I can say anything else, Ivy grabs his arm and starts pulling him toward the car.
“Come on, sit in the driver’s seat,” she says, then glances over her shoulder. “That okay?”
“Of course,” I say with a nod.
I watch them both slide into the front seats, her dad behind the wheel, Ivy in the passenger side. I walk over to the open window beside her.
“You can start her up,” I tell Tom. “Just put your foot on the brake and press the start button.”
He nods, and a grin spreads across Ivy’s face as the engine comes to life with a low, powerful growl.
“Oh my goodness,” a voice says behind me. I straighten and turn to see a woman stepping onto the driveway. Ivy’s mom, I assume.
“Mom,” Ivy says, hopping out of the car to join us. “This is Wyatt.” She gestures between us. “Wyatt, my mom.”
I offer a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. James.”
“Lovely to meet you too, Wyatt.” She nods toward the car. “Is this yours?”
“It is,” I reply with a nod.
“Wyatt let me drive it over,” Ivy chimes in proudly.
I lean toward her mom with a mischievous grin. “We’d have gotten here quicker,” I say, laughing, “but Ivy didn’t manage to get over ten miles an hour the whole way.”
“Hey!” Ivy cries, swatting my arm. “I wasn’t that slow.”
“Uh, yeah, you were,” I tease, grinning as she narrows her eyes at me.
I catch Mrs. James watching the exchange with a knowing smile, and I smile back.
“I just wanted Dad to see it before we head out,” Ivy explains.
Mrs. James turns her attention to me. “Ivy mentioned you asked her to list your apartment and help find you a place here in Hope Creek.” She looks at her daughter with a fond smile. “She’s so excited to work with you.”
“Mom!” Ivy groans, her cheeks instantly pink. “You really don’t have to say that.”
“What?” her mom asks, all innocence. “You’ve spent the last week talking about nothing else.”
Ivy shoots me an apologetic glance, and I chuckle. “I’m excited to work with Ivy too, Mrs. James.”
She beams. “Call me Helen, Wyatt.”
“Will do,” I say with a smile.
“I guess we should get going,” Ivy says. “If I can convince Dad to get out of the car, that is.”
“I can take him for a ride next week when we’re back,” I offer.
Her eyes brighten. “He’d love that. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
She hurries over to the car and relays the offer to her dad. I see his enthusiastic nod before he climbs out and heads toward me, Ivy trailing behind him.
“That’s one hell of a car, son,” he says, his eyes fixed on the sleek frame.
“Yeah,” I reply, smiling. “She’s a special one.”
“He’s got four more back in Phoenix,” Ivy adds, grinning. “But this one’s my favorite.”
Tom’s brows lift with interest. “What else do you have?”
“Ferrari 812, Chevy Silverado Fox, Mercedes SLS, and a Shelby GT500 Eleanor
Mustang.”
He nods appreciatively. “That’s quite a collection.”
“When Ivy finds me a place and I’m all moved in, you should come by and check them out,” I offer. “I’m always happy to talk cars.”
He smiles. “I might just take you up on that.”
“I hope you do.” I turn to Ivy. “Ready to hit the road?”
She nods and hugs her mom tightly, then leans in to kiss her dad on the cheek.
“Have a great weekend, you two,” Helen says, giving Ivy a cheeky wink. “We’ll call tomorrow to wish you a happy birthday.”
Ivy smiles in response, her cheeks pink.
“Nice meeting you both,” I say, lifting a hand in farewell.
“You too, Wyatt,” Tom says. “Drive safe. You’re carrying precious cargo.” He shoots Ivy a pointed look.
“Dad,” she groans, clearly mortified.
I chuckle. “Don’t worry, sir. I’m always careful, especially with someone important in the passenger seat.”
He gives a satisfied nod. “Good to hear.”
We leave them waving from the driveway as I walk Ivy to the passenger side and open her door. Once she’s settled in and buckled up, I circle around and slide into the driver’s seat. I ease the car into reverse and slowly pull away.
“Thanks for that,” Ivy says. “And sorry about my parents. They managed to embarrass me in record time.” She groans, dropping her face into her hands.
I laugh. “It wasn’t so bad. Your dad’s just protective. I’d be the same if I had a daughter and some guy showed up in a sports car to take her on a weekend trip.”
She lets out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I guess. But my mom didn’t need to say all that. I am professional when it comes to my work.”
“I know you are,” I say, glancing her way. “You’ve got nothing to prove, Ivy. I mean that.”
She nods, but I can tell the comment still nags at her.
She wants to be seen as serious and capable, and she is.
I saw that from the start. I just hope she doesn’t dwell on it and let it spoil the weekend.
I’ve been looking forward to this trip. Counting down, if I’m honest. Even though I know I shouldn’t, not when I’m just a friend to her, but I can’t help it. I’m already in deeper than I should be.