Holy mackerel. That was definitely a sexual inuendo, and I feel it down to my toes. “Okay.”
Nash chuckles again. “Love you, babe.”
I will never get tired of hearing that. “Love you too. Tell Andi good night for me.”
“Will do.” And then he’s gone.
I miss his voice already. I wish he was here with me, next to me. I’m already tired of just dating the man. I’m ready to be with him all the time, but how would that work? He’s got a farm to run. I’ve got a farm to run. Then there’s Ivy.
35
Nash
“What do you want, Ivy?”I thought I was pretty clear about her not just stopping out to my place unannounced, but here she is, bright and early on Friday morning. A morning in which I’m trying to get my shit done so I can pick up Isabelle and whisk her off for the night.
I stare at Ivy. She looks out of place out here in the country. I think she always did. Example: Ivy’s dressed in the tightest pair of jeans I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe she can breathe in those things. She’s also wearing a tight T-shirt beneath a black leather jacket. Her black boot things are about five inches tall too. Ridiculous shoes to wear out on a farm. How does she keep those tiny heels from going straight down into the dirt? You know what? I don’t give a shit. I kind of hope they do sink in the dirt, but then she might stick around longer, and I definitely don’t want that.
Ivy places her hands on her waist and starts tapping one boot. “I’ve got a couple issues.”
“Uh-huh.” I’m only half listening as I give Cy a treat. I’ve got two apples and some leftover potatoes for her this morning. She’s really blossomed this last month. While she’ll still be a milk producer for us, honestly, Andi and I treat her more like a pet. Bad form for a dairy farmer. Shh, don’t tell on me.
“One,” she snaps, holding up one finger, “you sicced your lawyer on me?”
I give Cy the last apple and pat her back. Shutting the gate to her enclosure, I turn back to Ivy and sigh. “I told you I’d hired a lawyer. You threatened me; I took action.”
“Well, some of us”—she points to herself—“can’t afford a fancy lawyer.”
Oh, here we go.
“Ivy, I’ve got shit to do. Spit it out.”
“I heard you’re going out of town with what’s her name.”
“Her name is Isabelle.”
“So, it’s true?”
I refuse to answer her, so I stare at her instead.
“Where are you sticking Andrea if you’re going out of town?”
“It’sAndi, and I’m not sticking her anywhere.”Besides, this is none of your fucking business.I want to say it, but I’d better not. “She’s staying with Mom. Which reminds me. Don’t bother my mom. She was pretty pissed when you did that before.”
“Andrea ismychild.”
“She’s only yourchildwhen it’s convenient for you.” You know what, I’m tired of pussyfootin’ around about this shit. “Ivy… why now? What is it that really brought you back? Don’t you have soap commercials to make or something? Hadn’t you better be gettin’ back toHollywood?” Sure, I sound like a bratty bitch on that last sentence, but it’s how I feel. I’m tired of holding in shit.
“My agent did call about a possible television series deal, but I’m not going back until we have some sort of arrangement.”
“Arrangement?” I ask, arching one eyebrow.
She drops her hands to her side and tilts her head to the left. I can see her fucking wheels turning. I’ve watched Ivy rehearse for the school plays before, and this is one way she prepares. She’s getting into character.
Andaction…
“Nash,” she says softly as she takes a couple steps closer. I take the same number backward. Reaching out, she attempts to touch me, but I move away some more. I guess it hasn’t broken her concentration because she laughs softly. “You and I both know if I took you to court, I’d win.”
“I know no such thing.”
