And it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if this is Izzy’s way of trying to ease Eve’s existence after a long, hard season.
I move closer to her and pull her back into the bed between my legs, just like we sat when I pulled her in from the storm.
“Don’t you think it might be fun to go, if you’re up for it? You’re likely not contagious anymore—and it’s outside anyway, right?”
She grumbles, moving like she’s going to stand. “Ugh,god, I haven’t even looked at the farm in days. I hope it’s not a mess.”
I grab her, keeping her on the bed with me. “Be my date to the party.”
She’s quick to answer. “Be my date to bed.”
I pause. “You make averyconvincing argument.”
She raises an eyebrow, thinking she's won.
“And it also kind of makes me think you absolutely can handle a party.”
She huffs, crinkling her nose. “Dammit, that one backfired.”
“Come on. Go with me for an hour. Let’s have a drink and celebrate the end of a great season. All of your hard work and everyone else’s too. You deserve that.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Theydeserve that. Abby and Vic and everyone who works so hard for you.”
She flops facedown into bed. “I hate that you know me.”
And god, I can’t resist. I slap her ass because it’s there and it’s beautiful and I’ve touched it but I haven’t touched it likethatand, fuck, do I want to.
She turns over, the hint of a dare in her eye as her leg brushes against mine.
And fuck, I’m not going to be able to get either of us out of this bed if I let things go any further.
So against every fiber of my being, I tear myself out of bed and stick myself in a cold shower.
26
RYDER
When Izzy arrives, everyone knows it. She tears into the house, tugging Eve out of bed and pulling a number of outfits out of her wardrobe while directing me to clean upthe sickness,as she refers to it, gesturing with a flourish at the medicine bottles and tissues and extraneous blankets.
I do my best to get out of their way, opting to do as I’m told rather than try to slow the whirlwind that is Izzy.
I pull on jeans and a T-shirt and surrender the second floor to the girls, opting to clean up our used dishes and throw Eve’s sick clothes in the wash for her rather than daring to go upstairs while I can hear Izzy’s voice in the background saying things like, “That looks good. Wear that,” or “Seriously, you haven’t fucked him yet?”
And half an hour later, Eve stumbles down the stairs with her hair lightly curled, a cream sweater dress revealing just the hint of smooth thigh before tall socks and boots cover up the rest of her legs. She holds her hands up in the most appeasingta-dashe can possibly give me, as Izzy storms down the stairs behind her, a wide grin on her face.
“She looks great, doesn’t she?” Izzy asks as I lean against the kitchen counter, drying my hands on a dish towel.
I nod. “Downright beautiful. You’d never know you spent the past three days snoring like a freight train and snotting my shoulder.”
Izzy’s nose crinkles.
“You said I sounded like a baby lawn mower.”
“That was before you said I sounded like a tractor trailer.”
Izzy holds her hand over her heart. “I can truly feel the love.” Izzy grabs Eve’s elbow, directing her to the front door, and turns to me before dragging her outside. “This is an all-hands-on-deck situation or she’s going to end up back in bed, so ditch the dish towel, dude!”
