“Plumbing, right?” She says it like she knows I’m lying.
“Right.”
The sound of Ivy’s bare feet padding into the greenhouse turns my attention and, thankfully, ends that conversation. She’s fresh from the shower, her long black hair combed poker straight. I’ve gathered that she’s not much of a morning person, because I couldn’t get her up with me, even with the lure of a shared shower. She’s a deep sleeper; I know because I listened to her breathing for hours last night, while I watched the street and played through various scenarios, and then again when she went back to sleep, and I played through our conversation. Her words bring me comfort, but they’re just words, born of ignorance. She’d like to believe in me, that I only do good, with the best of intentions. Hell, I’d like to think that, too. And I did, up until this assignment. But the more time I have to dwell on it, the less settled I feel for having handed that video to Bentley.
The more I wonder if I’ve been lied to by the only man besides my father I trust unequivocally.
“Good morning, Ivy. The pot of coffee is almost brewed. I’ll get you a cup.” Dakota whispers something to her on her way by, earning Ivy’s confused look, and then her sharp gaze on me.
I force the dark cloud from my thoughts. “She brings you coffee, too?” I lean down to steal a quick kiss from her lips as she closes the distance, tasting the mint from her toothpaste. She’s already hidden her eyes behind dark makeup.
“And breakfast, sometimes. What were you two talking about out here?”
I shrug. “Lemons. And Greece.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I frown. “Why? What’d she say?”
“That I’m a very lucky girl.” She smirks, her fingers coiling around my belt buckle and giving me a tug closer to her. “That usually only means one thing with Dakota.”
“Oh.” I shake my head but grin. “Might have something to do with the clear shower curtain and her walking in on me.”
Ivy groans, but her tiny smirk tells me she’s not mad. “Get used to it, as long as you’re staying here. She does it to me almost every day.”
“That’s . . . weird.”
“That’s Dakota.” She hesitates. “As long as you don’t pull the curtain open to invite her in, we won’t have any issues.”
I wrap my arms around her body. “Are you jealous?”
“No!” she throws back instantly, tension coursing down her back. I’m guessing being jealous would be as unappealing as being needy in Ivy’s book.
Dakota’s hot, I’ll give her that, but I need more than just looks. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
Her hands run over my chest and down to my stomach as if memorizing the curves before her sharp, dark eyes peer up at me. “I’ve never let anyone do that before.”
She doesn’t have to spell it out. I smile. “I’ve never wanted to do that with anyone.” That’s the truth. I haven’t come inside a woman since my ex-fiancée, and with her, it was more laziness than my own need. But with Ivy last night . . . I wanted to fill her with me. I wanted to mark her, in a way.
Just the idea had me rock hard.
I should have asked first, but . . .
Ivy inhales deeply and then releases. “Hopefully you’ll get this plumbing issue fixed soon, and we can stay at your place once in a while.”
She’s watching my expression to see if she can read something from it. She still probably thinks I have a girlfriend hiding back home, even though I’ve told her that’s not the case. “Yeah, hopefully.” I checked out of the shit motel yesterday morning. I’m going to have to find a short-term rental somewhere, so we have some privacy while I’m here. Which could be a while, because I’m not going anywhere until I figure out exactly why that car was parked outside her uncle’s house yesterday.
Ivy averts her gaze, but I sense the tension lifting. “So . . . lemons and Greece.” She reaches up to touch the still-green one hanging.
“Yeah. Do you wanna go?” I blurt out.
Her eyes dart to my face. “Where? Greece?”