“That was fast,” I say by way of greeting.
“If my bug misses me, I want to talk to her,” he replies casually.
I call out to Delilah, and walk over to the dining table where she’s enjoying her food.
“Here she is,” I say to Wesley as I’m handing the phone over.
“Ivy,” he stops me.
“Yeah?” I ask, bringing the phone back to me.
“Good morning.” I can hear the smirk.
My face flames, and I’m suddenly incredibly grateful he didn’t FaceTime. “Good morning,” I respond through the full toothed smile that plays across my lips.
I set the phone on the table next to Delilah so she can talk to her Dad while she enjoys her breakfast, and fan my burning cheeks when I turn away. How does he do that to me from a simplegood morning.He’s lucky I didn’t shout “I love you!” at him as a response.
When Delilah is finished with her conversation, she brings the phone back over to me on the barstool at the kitchen island where I’ve been doing most of my writing. I shut my laptop and take the phone, noticing Wesley is still on the line.
He tells me his plans for the day, which is already well underway since he’s two hours ahead of us. His day has already included lots of needles and ink, and he sends me some pictures of the work he’s done this week.
He’s really talented.
I let him know that Delilah, Soph, and I will be heading to Rose’s this afternoon for some checkers and baking.
We flirt a little, but keep it PG due to the child in the room, then say our goodbyes to take on the day. After Delilah and I are both dressed, we slip on our shoes,and head out of the house to take a walk, because the weather is absolutely beautiful today.
Delilah bends down to pick up a pinecone she likes, and hands it to me to put in the tote I now bring on our walks. I examine it, and nod appreciatively. I’m not ashamed to say I can appreciate a good, proportional pinecone when I see one.
Am I biased because my favorite girl in the world picks them?
Absolutely.
Do I care?
Nope.
“Do you sense any eggs around here?” she asks, scanning the trail.
I wince.
I really screwed the pooch with the whole egg sensing bit. I couldn’t bear to see her disappointment when she couldn’t find one, so I pulled the dragon egg sense card out of my ass, and I’m really paying for it now.
Maybe I can buy one online, and plant it somewhere.
Jesus, I’m really starting to lose it.
When we return home from our walk, or what Delilah is referring to it as, our “Dragon Egg Hunt” I see Sophie walking up from her house down the road. She’s wearing a tight white tank top, short bike shorts, and running shoes. Her slick back, long blonde ponytail sways with each step, and I admire just how hot my best friend is.
When she finally approaches, I tell her just that. “Damn girl, you look good as hell. If only I swung the other way,” I sigh out, shaking my head.
She mirrors me, sighing loudly for dramatic affect. “Yeah, shame. It’d really solve all my problems, honestly.”
“B-E-A-U?” I spell out in question, aware of the little parrot in our company.
“B-E-A-U,” Delilah repeats.
Great.
