I refuse to settle for anything less when it comes to Ivy.
Ivy and I are sitting on either side of Lilah’s bed, and I listen, hypnotized by Ivy's soothing, storytime voice. I rest my head against the wall, looking over to her, and marvel at how unbearably perfect she is. She has a book in one hand, while the other gently rubs Lilah’s back between us.
The night light shines across Ivy’s face, and I study the slight upturn of her nose, and how long and full her lashes are. I notice how expressive she is, and how much energy she puts into reading to Lilah. She makes a different voice for each character, and makes weird sound effects when necessary. I’ve never seen my daughter laugh so hard.
Her long hair falls around her shoulders, and the urge to run my fingers through it strikes me. I lift my hand and reach over the bed, tucking Ivy’s hair behind her ear. She trips over her words, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye with a smile, before returning to the page.
I don’t know how much longer I can take this slow. I want her. I fuckingneedher.
Ivy’s voice trails off, and I peek over Lilah’s shoulder to see her knocked out cold. I lean over, and kiss her on the cheek, double checking that Burrito is under the blankets with her. Meeting Ivy’s gaze, I tilt my head in the direction of the door. Ivy and I both carefully stand, and tiptoe out of the room, softly shutting the door.
“Shower, then meet you on the couch?” I ask her.
Ivy bites down on her smile and says, “Yes, please.” In that breathy voice that haunts my dreams. It’s impossible to get it out of my head.
Ivy and I go our separate ways and get cleaned up for the night. I hurry, wanting to get back to her as soon as possible. I scrub the day off of me, then brush my teeth and change into some sweats. I forgo the shirt, because they’re just not comfortable, and the vain part of me might like the way Ivy looks at me when I don’t have one on.
When I get out to the living room, I see that Ivy isn’t out here yet. I get some water for myself, and make her some tea, the way I know she likes it. While waiting for her, I clean up the kitchen from dinner, and straighten the living room.
As I’m cleaning up the last of the legos, I sense her before I hear her. When I look over my shoulder, I see Ivy barefoot and fresh faced, padding over to the couch, where she plops down and snuggles under her favorite blanket. Her hair is wet, and I can smell her shampoo from here. The familiar scent fills the space, and I greedily inhale the addictive smell.
I drop down next to her, and she immediately readjusts her position, leaning against the armrest, throwing her legs over my lap, and draping the blanket over us. I turn towards her and grip her legs as I do every night, and begin lightly massaging her from thigh to foot.
While I’m at work, I dream about when it can just be us on this couch in the dim, warm light. Me rubbing her legs and listening to whatever off-the-wall thingshe has to say. Her snuggling into me, and scraping her nails down my arm, or through my hair.
After a few minutes of silence and just being with each other, I speak up. “I didn’t know you could sense dragon eggs. Were you born with that ability, or is it more of a honed skill?”
Her shoulders begin to shake, and she covers her face with the blanket. I pull it off of her, and give her an unrestrained smile.
“Alright, you know what? That one really got away from me.” She shakes her head. “She started asking about dragon eggs, and where they could be found. Somehow that turned into searching for dragon eggs. When she started getting upset about not finding one, I lied through my damn teeth and told her not to give up. Told her I could sense it,” she says, groaning. “Then she spent the next hour using me as her human dragon egg detector.”
I chuckle and knead my thumbs into the balls of her feet. Her head tilts back and she moans softly.
Fuck.
“You’re really good with her, you know?” I tell her.
She smiles at me, almost sheepishly.
“She really loves you,” I add.
“I really love her too,” Ivy replies. “I know I’m just her nanny, and I've only known her a few months but–“
I cut her off right there. “No. You’re not just the nanny, Ivy. I understand.”
Oh boy, do I understand. If anyone can understand having such strong feelings so quickly, it’s me.
“How’s your writing going?” I ask her, moving the massage up to her calves.
She sighs happily, and a warm feeling fills my chest, and curls low in my stomach.
“Good. Great, actually. I feel like I might be done soon. I’ll still have a bunch of edits to go through, and then I have to decide what I’ll even do with it. But, it’s good. It makes me happy,” she says shyly.
“Good. Maybe I can read some more. I enjoyed it so much last time,” I reply, winking.
As if on instinct, and just because it feels right, I lift her foot from under the blanket and kiss her softly on the inside of her ankle.
She sharply inhales, and I pretend not to notice, holding back my grin, then return to rubbing her like usual.
