Before Ivy can press for clarification, a flash of lightning followed by a boom of thunder damn near shakes the ground.
“We should get back before it gets worse,” I tell them.
The rain turns the final stretch of trail into a mud bath. By the time we reach the garage, we're soaked to the skin and covered in so much mud that it’s hard to tell where our clothing ends and the dirt begins.
Laughing, we park the ATVs and stumble back toward the house. Madison runs ahead, eager for a hot shower, leaving Ivy and me trailing behind.
“I didn’t expect this when I woke up this morning,” Ivy says, gesturing to her mud-covered clothes.
“Makes two of us,” I reply, not entirely sure what possessed me to suggest ATVs in the first place.
Ivy glances at me, her eyes softening around the edges, and she tucks in the right side of her mouth.
Shit. It’s the look she gets right before asking something that will strip away another layer of me. My shoulders tense in anticipation.
“You know, for someone who’s being blackmailed into this whole arrangement, you’re being... decent. Today, anyway.”
I shrug, “Don’t look too deep into it. I was going stir-crazy as well.”
She reaches up and wipes a streak of mud from my cheek, her touch unexpectedly gentle. “It was still very kind of you.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I mutter, catching her wrist.
She stills. Her pulse beats against my fingertips, quick and strong. Heat radiates from that simple point of contact,dangerous and inviting. This isn’t what we’re here for. We’re cleaning up my father's mess, not creating a new complication.
But I don’t let go, and she doesn’t pull away.
The front door of the house opens, spilling light onto the gravel drive. I expect to see Madison, but instead, it’s Lillianna standing there, her expression amused. Damn little sisters.
“Well, well,” she calls, her laughter carries over the insistent rain. “I leave for a day and you turn into a mud monster?”
I drop Ivy’s wrist and take a step back. “Lillianna,” I mutter, running a mud-caked hand through my equally filthy hair. “You’re back early.”
“Lucky timing, I’d say.” Her eyes dance with mischief. “I wouldn’t have wanted to miss... whatever this is.”
“ATV riding,” Ivy explains, a smile playing at her lips. “Thorne’s idea, believe it or not.”
“Thorne?” Lillianna’s mouth forms a perfect O of disbelief. “My brother, the human storm cloud, doesn’t remember how to play.”
I scowl at her, though there’s no real heat behind it. “The ATVs are mine, you know.”
“One is yours. The other is mine. When was the last time you went out with me on them, or even alone?” she asks, her grin widening. She turns to Ivy. “Did he tell you about the time he—”
“We need to get cleaned up,” I interrupt. “Before we catch pneumonia.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Lillianna says as we squelch past her into the foyer.
A shiver wracks Ivy. “You’d better get in the shower,” I tell her.
“I don’t want to track mud through the house.” We see Madison’s prints through the foyer and beyond. “Sorry,” Ivy mutters.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “Go ahead.”
She nods and tries to step in Madison’s marks. At the stairs, she glances over her shoulder at me, her eyes warm. “See you at dinner.”
I nod, and when she disappears up the staircase, I turn to find Lillianna watching me with undisguised delight.
“What?” I demand, crossing my arms and squaring my shoulders.
