I love to give favors?
I must have a fetish, with all the feet I stuff into my fucking mouth. “Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven!” I yell out to the house.
Ding.
Oh no. I open Wes’s reply and look down at the screen with my head turned slightly away, glancing out the side of my eye, like my phone is a bomb about to explode.
Wesley:Thanks. I’m sure you’re great at favors.
I toss my head back and laugh.
Ivy:Wesley Simon Cooper, was that a joke?
Wesley:I am capable of making them, as much as I’ve given you reason to believe the opposite. Not my middle name, by the way. Did you like the burrito?
Ivy:Well color me surprised, he jokes. The dragon? She’s lovely. She’s currently hiding with Delilah, waiting for me to seek.
Wesley:Not the dragon, the breakfast.
Oh. I totally forgot. I walk over and open the microwave.
“Seventy-one, seventy-two!” I yell again.
I spot the burrito and close the door to heat it. When the timer ends, I take it out and take a massive bite. My eyes roll. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was. I grab my phone again and start texting.
Ivy:It’s amazing, thank you.
Wesley:No problem. I love to give favors too.
My eyes widen and I choke on a piece of bacon. Okay, well Wes is loosening up. I finish my burrito in four more bites, then set off to find Delilah.
————
The rest of our day was fun—as usual. We took a walk around the property and collected as many pine cones as we could. So much, that at one point we made abeeline back to the house to grab a bag for them. Delilah collected as many as she could before declaring she was hot and hungry for lunch.
Her little freckles on her nose have become more apparent from the blazing sun. Mine are probably doing the same. Thank goodness I put some sunscreen on us before we left the house.
After lunch and the mandatory popsicles, we found ourselves back outside and on the porch. Delilah and I have our collection of specially selected pine cones spread out in front of us, organizing them into categories. I suggested sorting by size, but Delilah insisted on separating them byfamilies, so we now have six pine cone families populating the front porch.
When I look up at the sound of crunching gravel, I see Wesley pulling up the drive. I frown in confusion, then look at my phone and see that it’s already five. Huh. This day flew by.
“Are you that displeased to see me?” Wes asks as he hops out of his truck, a hint of teasing in his voice.
I realize too late that my expression must’ve looked lesssurprisedand morewhat’re you doing here?
“Hey, bug,” he greets his daughter, walking up the porch steps. He kisses her head, then meets my eye.
“Hi, Daddy,” she replies monotone, tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration.
Her eyes haven't left the array of pine cones in front of her, as she switches around a few of them.
“No, I just didn’t think it was already five o’clock,” I say through a chuckle as I stand up and dustthe dirt off my butt. I tilt my chin high, looking up at him. He’s so tall and broad.
Sigh.
Wesley nods as he looks down at Delilah, hands tucked into his pockets. I take the opportunity to really look at him. I stare at his massive, corded forearms. At his tattoos moving up his hands, disappearing under the sleeve of his T-shirt, and at his equally massive biceps.
I hear a throat clear, and my eyes snap up to his. He’ssmirking, fully aware of my ogling. I try not to blush, and hold my head high, pretending I don’t want to melt into the floorboards.
