Page 40 of Sliding Into Love
Jase grinned at her and ran to open the door.
The sun was too bright and low behind him, so all she saw was Ethan’s shoulders taking up the width of the door frame and his head nearly brushing its top. But then he stepped over the threshold andholy shit.
It occurred to Ivy that she’d only ever seen Ethan in his baseball uniform or athletic wear. Her brain short-circuited seeing him now. He wore a black button-down shirt with rolled sleeves, dark jeans, and motorcycle boots. The sleeves of his shirt molded to the outline of his muscular shoulders, and the buttons of his shirt looked like they’d split at the seams if she stared at them too long.
Janna ran at Ethan, and he gathered her up in a hug. He limped as he carried her and looked at Ivy in bewilderment when Janna refused to climb down. Jase did a shy half-wave, telling Ethan he’d tried to practice pitching, but Ivy had forbidden it inside the apartment.
When Ethan turned to face her, she saw his eyes travel up and down her body the same way she’d drunk him in, and heat gathered in her cheeks and between her thighs.
Lily appeared and pushed Ivy and Ethan out the door with promises of hyping the kids up with sugar and scary movies and other lies.
“But,” Lily said, stopping them on the way out, “I want your address and a promise nobody gets axe murdered. I don’t know you, Sasquatch, so if Ivy doesn’t check in at least once an hour, I’m coming for you.”
“Right, uh, I’ll send it to you.”
Ivy was amused to note how much her tiny friend terrified enormous Ethan Ford.
Phone numbers and addresses were exchanged, and when Lily was satisfied, she roughly shoved them out the door.
“You look… incredible.” His voice, as always, startled her in the best way. He reached out like he wanted to touch her but pulled his hand back.
“Thanks.” Ivy laughed. “Lily practically attacked me once we got home. I’m lucky she found this in my closet, or she would have dragged me shopping.” She shuddered. “You look nice too.”
“Thanks.” His voice was gruff like he didn’t know what to do with the compliment. Shall we?” When he offered her his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman, she melted.
Placing her hand in the crook of his elbow, Ivy wanted to sneakily slide it higher to see if his biceps was as hard as it looked. But for now, she’d have to settle for the softness of his shirt, which was smooth and warm under her fingertips. She wondered if he’d like how she looked ifshewore it.
Heat flooded her veins.
But they’d reached his shiny black car, and he opened the door for her. The interior gleamed in black and chrome, with smooth seats, their leathery scent mingling pleasantly with his cologne. He ran his hand through his hair, and it occurred to Ivy he might be as nervous as she was.
“So, I thought we’d try to cook together? Since you seemed to like the idea yesterday?” Ethan seemed unsure.
“I’ll help you, but only if you give me the least important job. I am a shit cook; you can ask anyone.”
His lips twitched.
“Can you boil water?” Ethan asked.
“Only on days with an ’r’.”
“We’ll start there.”
Once he parked outside his apartment building, he raced around to open her door again, and she bit back a laugh at how hard he was trying to be a gentleman. It was so unexpected and sweet,which sums him up in three words,she realized.
His apartment was large and open, and very neat, with mostly black furniture and no decorations on the walls.
It was sad and cold and…lonely.
She followed him inside, leaving her purse near the door as Lily instructed, in case she needed a fast getaway. For a few seconds, she hesitated, not wanting to check her email on a date, but not able to resist the habit. She’d just silence her phone so it wouldn’t be a distraction. Except, when she unlocked the screen, a tiny red dot glared at her from the email app. A rush of hope flew through her chest; usually, she didn’t let herself get excited–too many disappointments taught her that lesson at a young age. But something about Ethan, maybe the possibilities of whatever was happening between them, or maybe even just…him, gave Ivy a sliver of hope.
Ms. Johnson,
I’m writing to inform you that Mrs. Niman’s official retirement date is May 25th. After that time, we will review the budget and your paperwork. If we decide to move forward, someone will contact you.
J. Simpson
Ivy dropped her phone with a thunk, excitement swiftly curdling to disbelief and annoyance. They couldn’t even manage a ‘sincerely’? A ‘best’? ‘Fuck you very much’? The entirety of the email was just repeating what she’d already known, without providing the paperwork she needed, and it made Ivy want to scream in frustration.
