Probably could’ve taken those off. Oh well.
I wade through the slimy grass and easily grab the ball before stomping my heavy, muck covered feet back to shore, and over to Wes and Delilah.
“Here you go,” I say, smiling and holding the ball in my outstretched hand.
Delilah squeaks, releasing her dad’s leg she was hugging. “Thank you, Iby!” She takes the ball and wraps her arms around my legs in return.
I hug her back, and glance back up. My smile falters when I see the look on Wes’s face. It’s a mix between anger, shock, and maybe confusion. I’ve already made him mad.
Splendid.
“We’re going back to the house,” he barks, staring at my soaked shoes.
Without another word, he turns and heads back in the direction we came from. His daughter and I are hot on his heels, and the squelch sound of each of my steps is the only sound until we’re ascending the porch once again. I swear every squeak and splosh from my feet hike Wes’s shoulders higher and higher.
I glance down to Delilah—who is already staring at me—and wink. She giggles, and tries to wink back, but just blinks both of her eyes hard.
The three of us follow the wraparound porch to the side of the house to another set of steps.
“Sit,” Wes clips, pointing at a wooden step.
Feeling like I’m in trouble, I listen, dropping down to sit on the top step. “Please, Ivy. Why Yes, Wes, I’d love to,” I grumble under my breath.
Wes either doesn’t hear me, or ignores me entirely as his boots thunder down the stairs. He bends down to grab something, and quickly reappears with a garden hose.
“Shoes off,” he says, looking wholeheartedly annoyed to be doing this.
I roll my eyes, unable to stop myself, and stand. “I can do it,” I say, reaching out a hand.
He doesn’t hand over the nozzle. He stares blankly at me, waiting for me to comply. I feel my nostrils flare in frustration, and I force myself to take a deep breath.
Don’t piss off your brand new boss, Ivy.
I inhale, willing the snarky remark to remain inside my body. Taking a seat, I start unlacing my shoes. I slip off each one, followed by my socks, then straighten my legs on the steps. Wes sprays down my muddy skin, and I wiggle my toes to make sure I get all of the questionable water off me. He doesn’t seem to like that, and gives me a disapproving look, stopping the spray and tossing the soiled shoes on the ground.
He focuses the hose on them now, thoroughly cleaning the gunk and slimy grass off. Delilah and I sitside by side, silently watching him take his time inspecting every inch of my shoes. He’s crouched down, rubbing at a spot on the black fabric and white rubber like it personally wronged him.
Weird.
You’d think he’d be happy to send me on my way covered in muddypondwater.
Suddenly feeling strange that I’m barefoot with my pant legs still rolled up, probably resembling a professional pirate with my now untucked white button up, I stand and push my pant legs back down.
“I think that’s good,” I say.
Wes whips his head to the side, locking his blue eyes on me, before looking back down at what he was focusing on. As if snapping out of it, he stands abruptly, shutting off the hose and sets my shoes on the step next to me. The gentle way he places them down deeply contrasts the waves of tension rolling off of him.
“Thank you,” I say, leaning down to grab my shoes and wrung out socks. “You didn’t have to do that. Probably should’ve taken them off before I went into the water,” I add through a chuckle.
Standing a step above him, we’re nearly eye to eye when Wes runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the strands that fell into his eyes, before aggressively shoving it in his pocket. His cool, flat expression settles back in. “Yep. See you tomorrow.” is all he says before continuing up the stairs, scooping up Delilah, and taking her with him.
“Bye, Iby!” Delilah yells, waving enthusiastically over his shoulder.
I wave back, grinning. “Bye,” I reply, hoping it didn’t come out as awkwardly as it felt.
I think that’s my cue to get the hell out of here, and start to head back to my car.
“Wait,” Wes calls out.
