My pool was closed for the winter, but Ivy was swimming all the same.
The sleeves of my sweatshirt hung from her arms like an old peasant dress, but the color was all it took to look right. The green set off the dark notes in her eyes and brought them to life in the center of her makeup-free face, and the collar of it moved in perfect synchronization with the auburn streaks of her wet hair.
She’d rolled up the legs of my pants to stop them from dragging and tied the drawstring at the waist as tight as it would go.
But maybe the most important of all, the fight had left her.
The storm clouds had moved on, and the sun was shining. And it was in the light that I suspected we’d find the truth.
She chewed at her bottom lip before stopping on the other side of the kitchen island. Hands covered by the overlong sleeves, she wiped at the surface mindlessly, staring at the motion of each hand for a long moment before meeting my eyes with her own.
“Thanks for the clothes.”
I shrugged, letting just one corner of my mouth creep up from its resting position. “Sorry they’re so big.”
She lifted her eyebrow, just one smart remark she’d stopped from escaping bleeding into the muscle.
“What?” I asked, wanting to know what had driven the skin higher. “What are you thinking?”
She shook her head and dragged her teeth across her lip. “It’s just…I was thinking that they matched the house.”
I glanced up immediately, surveying the over-tall cabinets and large, eat-in breakfast area. I knew the space was excessively spacious—I knew better than anyone. But I scarcely noticed it anymore. I didn’t know that I even saw the place anymore. It was a place to go at night to sleep. That was it.
I allowed a self-deprecating laugh. “A little over the top, huh?”
She shrugged. “For someone else, maybe not. For you? Definitely.”
“It was my dad’s house,” I told her, forcing myself to open up my life to her in a way I hadn’t before.
She stared at me then, the silence stretching into the word she didn’t say. Was. It was simple but specific, and I knew she had to be wondering at its use. I crossed the bridge and onto the next avenue of discussion for her.
“My dad died a few years ago, and my mom left when I was just a kid.”
“She never came back?” Her question was soft. Knowing.
I shook my head.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well…I can’t blame her completely, I guess. Life with my dad was pretty shitty.”
“Leaving her kid was shittier.”
I shrugged, desperately not wanting to relive the story of young, motherless Levi, but I fought against the revolt. She deserved to know. If anything, she’d borne the brunt of this very hang-up.
“She, uh…she went to Hollywood. At least, that’s the last I heard. I honestly couldn’t tell you anything more than that, though.”
“She never reached out?”
The shake of my head was slight. “No.”
Her smile was sad but newly understanding. “No wonder you’re not particularly fond of…” She paused and I waited, but in the end, she chose the innocuous noun. “Hollywood.”
We both knew the word she was really after was “me.”
I grinned and nodded, admitting, “Misdirected anger.”
She sighed. “And I suppose you’re just…over it now?”
I laughed. “I suspect not. But I’m trying.”
And wasn’t that the truth. I didn’t have the tools to fix what I’d broken with Ivy, but I was trying my best to find them.
“I should probably get going.”
I nodded even though the last fucking thing I wanted to do was nod. I wasn’t ready for her to go. “Your clothes are in the dryer, but if you really need to go, you can take those, and I’ll get yours back to you some other time.”
Her hands disappeared into the depths of her hair as she pulled it back from her face. “I…yeah, just…I’ll get them back from you. I’d wait for them, but I have to get ready for dinner.”
My nod was jerky as I clamped my jaw shut.
Don’t ask with whom. Don’t ask with whom.
Her smirk was easy and mischievous. She knew I wanted to ask. “I should keep you in suspense.”
“But?” I prompted.
Her smile grew, and my chest tightened. “But…it’s with Grandpa Sam.”
A war broke out just underneath my flesh. Grandpa Sam was a much better option than any of the others, but he was still Grace’s family. I knew I was going to have to get over it—the invasion into Grace’s life—but it wasn’t something I could do on command.
She laughed humorlessly. “Good mood gone, huh?”
I ran an agitated hand over my face and sighed. There was no way I could go down this road without our nice conversation devolving back into an argument.
Instead, I did something I didn’t have much practice in—and let it go.
“Watch out for Sam. He’s a major flirt.”
She laughed, and her face melted into a surprised smile.
One point for me.
A coy eyebrow raised, she leaned into the counter and pulled up a sleeve teasingly. “He doesn’t have to flirt. We’re already an item.”
A chuckle left my lips. It was rusty and highly unused, and if I wasn’t mistaken, it had surprised the both of us.
“Maybe he sent you the flowers,” I suggested, and her smile ratcheted up ten notches.
“I’ll have to ask him. But that’s definitely something he would do.”
I shrugged. “It’s the kind of thing any good boyfriend would do.”
Grace’s face when I’d sent her flowers the first time flashed in my mind. It’d been so simple—a gesture I’d done for lack of coming up with one better. Friends for forever, I’d felt the necessity to distinguish the difference between all that time and our first real date.
A delineation.
But to Grace, it’d meant everything.
“Yeah,” Ivy said softly, bringing me back to the room with a startle. “I guess you’re right.”
She climbed off the barstool and walked slowly around the counter. I knew she was moments from walking out the door and rebuilding everything we’d managed to tear down, and I wasn’t ready to let the easiness go.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“You don’t have—”
“Ivy,” I interrupted. “Just let me walk you out.”
“All right,” she conceded. “I just need my shoes.”
My ears zeroed in on the tumbling thump of their presence in the dryer, and she followed the direction of my gaze.
“Huh,” she muttered, catching on quickly. “I guess the gravel is going to hurt.”
We walked to the door in silence. I used the time to stew on the statement, but I had no idea what she used it for. I figured, however, when she gasped as I swept her off her feet and into my arms outside the front door, that it hadn’t been for the same thing.
“Levi!” she protested, but I ignored the complaints and walked all the way to her car.
She was light and, eventually, accommodating, which made it easy to open the car door and deposit her inside.
“I owe you thanks,” she muttered. “Even though I didn’t ask for the lift.”
I smiled and shook my head. “Do you have to argue about everything?”
She grinned, asserting smartly, “Do you?”
The nondescript ring of my phone interrupted us. I pulled it from my pocket and glanced at the screen to find the chief’s information displayed.
I put it to my ear without hesitation. “Chief?”
“Sam Murphy took a spill,” he informed me without preamble. I started at the news, leaving uneasy eyes unchecked when they jumped to Ivy.
“What?” she asked, knowing that whatever I’d heard wasn’t good news.
“They’re taking him to the hospital now,” the chief updated into my ear. “Thought you’d want to know.”
“Thanks,” I murmured as Ivy climbed to her feet, worry changing the brightness in her eyes to something unnaturally shiny.
“I’m calling Ivy next,” he added, and my eyes locked with Ivy’s now anxious gaze. “I guess they were supposed to go out to dinner.”
“I’ll tell her,” I volunteered. “She’s with me.”
Hanging up instead of waiting for commentary from the chief that I probably had no interest in hearing, I gentled my voice and told Ivy the news. “Sam fell. They’re taking him up to the hospital now, so dinner—”
She sat down in the car and slammed the door, not even waiting for me to finish the sentence.
The engine roared to life, and I had the good sense to step out of the way as she put the car in drive and pulled away.
“Goddammit, Ivy! Wait for me!” I yelled.
She sped out the driveway without looking back, so I headed for my truck at a dead run.