Loud whistles and clapping explode from the foursome sitting down. Lincoln sticks his index finger and thumb in his mouth and does that loud ass whistle he can do that pierces your ears. Beau and Maverick give us exaggerated claps over their heads, and I roll my eyes. Sophie has her arms crossed over chest and is shaking her head, giving us a knowing smile.
When we reach the dumbasses, I worry Ivy will be upset or embarrassed. I’m ready to chew them out, until I feel her move out from behind me and to my side where she dips into a dramatic, but sarcastic curtsy on each leg while lifting the skirt of her dress.
“Thank you, thank you,” she drawls.
I laugh, and it startles everyone but Ivy.
“Holy shit. He laughed,” Lincoln announces.
“Yeah. He does that,” Ivy responds, grinning and poking me in my side.
They all look at each other completely shocked.
“Oh, fuck off. I laugh,” I grumble.
“There he is!” Maverick chimes in.
Ivy walks around the table and sits next to Sophie. I pull out my phone to check the time. I’ve gotta get going. I quickly explain where I’m headed to the others, and round the table to say goodbye to Ivy. I lean over her and brace my hand on the table, turning my back to everyone else for privacy.
“I’ll be back,” I say quietly.
“Okay. Drive safe,” she replies softly, biting her lip.
Fuck.
I lean down, and she meets me halfway for a quick kiss. I can’t get enough of her mouth.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him kiss someone in public,” I hear Sophie whisper, making Ivy giggle.
Being out in the open with her feels really fucking good. Giving in to her feels really fucking good. I don’t want to hide anything, or hold back with her. Now that I’ve given in, it’s like my heart's a damn runaway train. I wave to the table and head out to my truck, where lo and behold, Burrito sits comfortably in my backseat, buckled in.
————
When I get to my parents house, I hop out of my truck with Burrito in hand. My dad is already waiting for me on the front porch, arms crossed.
“Sorry to interrupt your night,” he calls out. “She wouldn’t lay down without the dragon.”
I wave him off with a shake of my head as a silent “Don’t worry about it.” I hear the screen door slam open, and a pajama clad Lilah come barreling out of the house, barefoot and hair wild.
“Daddy, do you have Burrito?” she yells, her voice laced with panic.
I lift Burrito in the air, and she grins, running down the porch steps and straight toward me. I quicken my pace, preparing to catch her like always. Mid-stride, her foot catches on something and she goes sprawling on the brick walkway.
I wince.
Lilah wails, probably a little scraped up, and probably really scared. She’s only on the ground for a couple of seconds before I scoop her up to assess the damage.
My dad opens the screen door for me, ushering me in. “C’mon, let’s see what we're dealing with.”
I quickly move into the kitchen, where the best lighting is and set Lilah on the counter. Her deep sobs make my heart squeeze, though I know she’s most likely alright.
“Let me see, bug,” I tell her gently.
She holds her palms out, and little raspberry scratches cover the heels of her hands where she braced for impact. I inspect the rest of her, but it seems like the only thing that hurts is her hands. There is a little dirt on her knees, but after lifting her pant legs I see she didn’t break any skin.
“It hurts,” she cries.
I pull her into a hug, and rub circles on her back, trying to calm her. “I know. Let’s get you cleaned up, and we’ll get you bandaids.”
