“Please forget you saw that.” She swipes her hair out of her face, climbing to her feet.
“I didn’t see anything,” I joke.
Ivory blushes at being caught in her clumsiness. Her face is clear of makeup, completely unfiltered. A contrast to thepictures plastered across the Internet speculating where Ivory Crenshaw is hiding. She is stunning. For some reason, I want to see more of this version of Ivory.
“What are you up to today?”
She walks to the side closest to my villa, leaning her arms on the railing gracing me with a slight smile and drawing me in like a siren. “Going crazy, clearly.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder pointed to the tangled hammock. “I was thinking of going for a swim. I can’t sit still anymore. What about you?”
“I was thinking of snorkeling. The water is so clear; you can see everything. Have you been?”
“Snorkeling?” Ivory’s eyebrows raise in question. She shakes her head when I nod. “No, I haven’t.”
“Would you want to go?”
“I don't know…” Ivory hesitates. The same look of desperation from the other day flickers in her eyes. It’s like she wants to do something but is so out of her depth she isn’t sure what to do. I imagine it’s her first time being stuck in an unfamiliar atmosphere without any resources or company. Hell, for all I know, it could be the first time she’s been left to fend for herself at all. Let alone while out of the country and so obviously not in her element or comfort zone.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Somehow with the limited interaction between us, I find myself wanting a front row seat to another of Ivory’s breakthroughs. It doesn’t even make sense in my own brain. I want to learn more about her. I want to know who she is out of the spotlight and when she is challenged out of her element. Maybe I can help her at least feel more relaxed. And perhaps in the process I can even show her new things.
“I don’t have any of the stuff to do that,” Ivory hedges.
“See that box on the lower deck?” Ivory looks over her shoulder as if noticing it for the first time. “There should be some stuff in there.”
“I don’t want to impose on your adventure.”
“You’re not imposing. I invited you. It’ll be fun. I haven’t been snorkeling with a newbie in forever,” I tease, wagging my eyebrows.
A melodic laugh falls from Ivory’s pink lips. “Okay, fine. Let me change.”
“Cool. I’ll swim over and check your equipment.” I feel like I just won the jackpot. It’s everything I can do to not pump my fist.
“Check my equipment?” Uncertainty fills her features.
“Just make sure the things you need are in the chest and that nothing is damaged. Can’t be too safe in the water.” I reassure her with a smile.
“Oh, right. Help yourself.” She returns my smile, another blush hitting her cheeks.
“See you soon.” I stay rooted in place. Ivory holds my eyes for another beat before turning and going inside her villa. A pep in her step and anticipation humming in my bloodstream.
Jumping into the water to cool myself down, I resurface and grab my gear from the platform. Swimming while holding flippers, goggles, and the snorkel isn’t the easiest but it’s also a pain in the ass to put them on just to immediately take them back off again when I pull myself out of the water fifty feet later onto Ivory’s platform.
Just as I suspected, there is snorkel gear in the box on her dock. I pull out a few different pairs of goggles, inspecting the straps for any tears and the lenses for scratches or cracks. They look to be in decent condition so I leave them out to see which will fit Ivory’s face the best. I do the same with the snorkel. There is nothing worse than taking a deep breath under water expecting air and getting a mouth full of ocean water. I’m not taking any chances with Ivory or her safety.
As I finish inspecting the flippers, Ivory appears on the upper deck, wearing a one-piece bathing suit. Modest and sinful at the same time. The light pink color enhances her golden tan.
“Is this okay? I wasn’t sure what was appropriate so I just went with this, but—” Ivory’s anxiousness is adorable.
I clear my throat, and stop staring at her legs. “It’s great. There’s no dress code for snorkeling.” I smirk at her.
She averts her eyes with a small smile. “Good to know.”
“I found a few sets of gear down here and checked them over for you.”
“What were you checking for?” Gone is her hesitation. I like how interested she is, asking questions to learn something new.
“The integrity of the gear. Making sure there aren’t any tears or holes. Don’t want you drowning,” I tease.
“Ha!” she blurts out. “Yeah, no drowning please. Don’t sign me up for that lesson.”
