Chasing Ivy (Oak Hill, #1)

by S. J. Sylvis

  “You okay?”

  No.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just want to kill Carrie.”

  Max sighed. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

  I didn’t answer him because as soon as I opened my mouth, I heard the bar doors opening and found Ivy shyly walking over to us.

  I watched her the entire time and it was almost an instantaneous feeling of relief. Like just seeing her face made me feel a little less suffocated, like I wasn’t actually being pulled in ten different directions.

  Her voice was soft and hesitant. “There were only a couple drinks on his tab. Apparently he came with the band.”

  Max started to back away, to give her and I some privacy but before he got too far, he looked over his shoulder and said to Ivy, “I’ll see ya in there and I’ll have a new drink made for ya.” Then he winked, and I actually growled out loud.

  I instantly wished I could take it back, but it was only a natural reaction. One of a wild animal, that is.

  Ivy turned around, squinting her eyes, and when I looked back at Max his eyes were widened and his arms were up in surrender. I knew he didn’t mean anything by winking at her, but the thought of her in the bar with Max, coupled with the thought of every other guy who was checking her out from head to toe, put me right back into the frenzy I’d been feeling seconds ago – out of fucking control.

  “Can we talk before I go in and pay and then drag this sloppy mess home?” I asked, hitching my thumb back to Emmett.

  She smiled softly. “I already paid; it’s no biggie.”

  And just like that, my heart was climbing out of my chest and reaching out for hers.

  “You didn’t have to do that—I’ll pay you back. How much was it?” I asked, pulling out my wallet from my back pocket.

  She landed her hand on mine and I froze. She pulled it back quickly and then peered up at me with those long eyelashes brushing against the tops of her eyelids.

  “It’s fine, it was only ten bucks. What are friends for?”

  Friends. Why did that one little word irritate me so fucking much?

  I leaned back against my truck, peeking a glance at Emmett, who was curled up like a baby in the backseat.

  “Are we okay?”

  Ivy adjusted her feet on the gravely parking lot, kicking up a few rocks in her wake. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  I almost smiled because even by the way her voice stayed neutral, I could tell she was beating around the bush.

  “Ivy,” I protested. “If you’re mad, then just tell me.”

  Ivy’s brows furrowed as her light pink lips formed a straight line. “I have no idea why I would be mad at you, Dawson.”

  I exhaled. “Because of Breanna and I dating.”

  She let out a nervous laugh. “Dawson, I know you and I had a mind-blowing kiss when we were teenagers, but I didn’t expect you to carry a torch around for me the entire six years that I was gone.”

  Oh, but the thing is… I had been carrying a torch around for her. It had been hidden under a ginormous amount of lust for Breanna, burying myself between her legs to try to stifle the hurt, but deep down, I’d been waiting.

  I’d been waiting for her.

  Ivy spoke up again, using that nervous, tiny voice that had never left my memory. “But why her? You could do so much better.”

  I blurted, “She’s changed.” But even as the words left my mouth I knew they were a lie.

  Ivy’s face scrunched. “She still seemed pretty dead-set on hating me from the look she gave me.” She laughed.

  I wanted to move past this conversation and go on about my way because I knew that nothing good was going to come from it. It would be wrong of me to agree with her because Breanna was still my girlfriend, whether my mind frequently wavered from the idea or not.

  The thing with Breanna was, I knew we didn’t have this amazing relationship built on love and all that mushy shit. I knew deep down that I’d never feel for her what she probably wanted me to feel, but… she really did help pull me out of a massive slump. She helped get me out of that dark place I was in after Ivy left, and I grew so comfortable with her that I thought us being in a real relationship was inevitable.

  I owed it to her. Right?

  “She’s just jealous of you. Always has been. Her entire family has been.”

  She shrugged. “Nothing to be jealous of.” Then she chuckled. “I mean, I’m a twenty-three-year-old woman who has worked her life away to save up just enough money to move into her own house while also supporting her sister because her parents died in a house fire. Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that I’ve only had one serious boyfriend my entire life. What is there to be jealous of? I’m like a forty-year-old living in a twenty-three-year-old’s body.”

  So much. There’s so much to be jealous of my sweet, naïve Ivy.

  “Had?” My heart suddenly felt like it was slowly falling down a jagged, rocky cliff. Colliding with each and every bump.

  “Huh?”

  “You said you had a boyfriend. You don’t anymore?”

  Ivy’s face turned a little pink and even under the night sky I could see that she was suddenly embarrassed. She started to kick the rocks with her foot again, all while not meeting my face. What did he do to her? Because I’ll kill him.

  “Oh,” her voice was weak. “Yeah, we broke up right before I moved here.”

  “Why?” I inquired.

  “He told me he would break up with me if I moved to this ‘Podunk town.’”

  “So you did anyway?”

  A harsh laugh fell out of her mouth. “If someone is willing to let me go because I wanted to move to my hometown, the only place that actually held good memories of my parents, then fuck him.”

  A smile grew on my face. My God, I love how strong-willed she’s become.

  “So that was it? He just said it was over, and then you moved?”

  She shrugged again. “Yeah. Well, no. He’s called a few times, but I usually ignore them. Today he left a voicemail. He said he wanted to talk because he missed me.”

  Fire went through my veins.

  “Are you going to talk to him?”

  She inhaled a deep breath and I couldn’t help but stare at the way her chest expanded. If I looked hard enough, I could see the black, lacy bra under her white shirt and that only made my guilt intensify.

  “I don’t know,” she finally answered and all the hope I had inside my body evaporated.

  My phone started vibrating in my pocket. Ivy’s eyes glanced down at the noise ricocheting off the side of my truck. I pulled it out and saw Breanna’s icon flashing.

  I rolled my eyes but muted a groan.

  “You better get that. I’m going to head back in.”

  I hit ignore as she was walking away.

  “Hey, Ivy. Wait.” She turned around and looked at me with wonder in her eyes. “Um, you’re here working at Belton Bank, right?” She nodded slowly, probably thinking back to our past conversation on why she’d moved back. “Have you ever thought of taking on small businesses for accounting? That’s what you are, right? An accountant?”

  The green in her eyes sparkled like I’d just given her a diamond ring. “Actually, that’s my career goal. I’d like to take on small businesses and handle their accounts. Why?”

  I edged my chin towards my brother. “Do you think you could take a look at Emmett’s accounts? I don’t know if you know, but he owns the tattoo shop uptown and he’s been having some issues. Which is why he’s drinking.” Her chin rose as she lifted up onto her tiptoes to look at Emmett’s dense, sleeping body. “Carrie, his ‘sometimes’ girlfriend is in charge of all the billing and ordering of supplies – she basically handles all the money, but we’ve got a pretty big hunch that she’s skimming it.”

  Ivy’s mouth opened as she let out a huff. “Of course I’ll take a look. I’ll do it for free. That’s crazy.”

  I smiled. “No, he’ll pay you. I’ll make him.”

&nbs
p; “That’s not necessary, Dawson. I’m your friend and he’s your brother. Bring the files over tomorrow… unless you’re not coming to work on the house again? You can always give the files to John or Garret; they can give them to me.”

  I could have sworn I heard disappointment in her voice. I’d been having our two best men work on her house instead of me because I knew I needed to keep my distance. For the love of God, I tried to kiss her last time we were alone. Like, my body couldn’t help it. The attraction I had for her was almost too much for me to handle. And now that we were alone right here, her being so genuine and sweet and looking sexier than I’d ever seen with those tight jeans hugging each of her curves, and the way her creamy skin was exposed, just above her breasts, I wanted to kiss her again.

  I want to do more than just kiss her.

  I worked a swallow down my throat and brought my eyes back to hers. “I’ll be there.”

  Then I turned around and climbed into my truck, because if I didn’t get away from her in the next second, I would do something I regretted.

  I knew how to treat a woman and Breanna was the woman I was currently bound to. I wasn’t a cheater... but my God, Ivy made me want to be.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ivy

  My heart was frantically beating in my chest like I was creeping up a rollercoaster, ready to fly over the edge into a surge of excitement and panic. This was the third day in a row that Dawson said he was coming over to work on the house and it literally had me basically flying through my day like I’d grown fairy wings overnight.

  There was still quite a bit to do in the house, but the guys that Dawson had put on the job were always working diligently when I returned home from work. I got off at four but they always stayed until six, hammering, drilling, putting up drywall. Fixing the ceiling. It was comforting having someone to come home to, even if they were sweaty men who liked to chatter too much.

  This was the first time I’d ever lived alone. After my parents had passed away, I was either with Uncle Timothy or Mia, and then when I moved out of my uncle’s, and into Eric’s fancy townhome in the city, I still always had someone near. I never realized how lonely it was not to have someone around, until recently.

  So, even having forty-year-old men around who rubbed tobacco and showed their butt-cracks every time they bent down was nice. But what was even nicer was that the last three days I’d been coming home to a familiar face, one that made butterflies erupt in my lower belly the minute it flashed in front of me.

  Even the thought of seeing Dawson got me completely giddy, and it shouldn’t, because we were friends and he had a girlfriend.

  The first night he was already here when I came home. It was only him; he let the other guys go early. He looked even more attractive to me that night because he was totally in his element. He was casual and relaxed, chuckling at me every so often when we’d have a conversation about something simple.

  That was the thing with Dawson. Things were always so easy with him; he grounded me with such an ease that I wished he’d been with me the year after my parents had died. I could have used him to pick me up every so often.

  I’d spent most of the evening sitting at my kitchen table, looking through some of the documents that Dawson had given me from Emmett’s business. There was definitely something fishy going on, and I had yet to figure it out all the way. I should have been able to get this figured out within a day but with Dawson working a hammer in my living room, I couldn’t focus.

  I could only see a sliver of him from my where I was sitting. Just his arm, or the occasional sight of his edgy jaw bone. I found myself staring at the way his arm muscles flexed with each pound of the hammer. Back and forth, back and forth, like they were provoking me. I think I even thought, na-na-na-boo-boo while mesmerized by the sight.

  You can look, but you can’t touch, Ivy! That was my new mantra any time he was around.

  He was taken.

  You’re too late.

  The second night, I casually moved into the empty living room. I hadn’t purchased a couch yet because the floors still needed done and it just seemed easier. It wasn’t like I had a ton of people over at my house anyway. No one needed a seat.

  I plopped myself down on the hardwood floor, comforted by the sight of Dawson’s tall stature, working meticulously on the crown molding that he was putting up above the new archway that the other workers had done the previous day.

  My mouth went dry the second he lifted his arms up above his head and I was met with his toned stomach. I only saw the lower part of his torso, but let me tell you, I could be 100% certain that he had washboard abs underneath his black, Lanning Construction t-shirt.

  I was completely distracted most of the evening, trying to focus on the numbers blending together in Emmett’s business account, but anytime Dawson would strike up a conversation with me, I would be totally consumed by it. Then, when he wasn’t talking to me, I was too busy squeezing my legs together to ease the dull throb that had made itself very, very known.

  We talked about the past a lot, and about how our lives were when we were apart for those six years. It was never an unsettling conversation when we’d fill each other in on our past, but we always skidded right over the pain that had driven us apart.

  I was happy not talking about it; I just wanted to move past it. If that was possible.

  Taking a deep breath, I looked at myself in my rearview mirror, making sure that there wasn’t any smeared lipstick near my mouth, or that my hair didn’t look like I’d spent the day standing underneath a sprinkler.

  My mocha-colored locks were falling out along my face from the topknot that I’d worn to work and there was a coffee stain on my light pink blouse, but there wasn’t much I could do about that now. It didn’t matter anyway, Dawson probably wasn’t even paying attention to how I looked.

  Then again…my mind drifted to the last two nights when I’d caught him staring at my legs as I spread them out while propping myself against one of the walls, and how his eyes lingered a little too long on my lips.

  I was quite possibly making all of this up in my head. Yes. That was it. I was so desperately attracted to him that I was imagining that he felt the same.

  God, what I would do to hear that he still thought I was beautiful. He always told me I was beautiful when we were younger, and it always made my heart full.

  Always. Even when I thought he was joking, it still made me happy.

  Just as I was getting out of my car, his truck pulled up behind me.

  I hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t already inside working. I slumped my shoulders. I could have totally run inside and at least spritzed some perfume on myself before he got here.

  “Hey, you’re late tonight,” I said as he got out of his truck.

  He pulled his dark sunglasses up and perched them on his head. He quickly glanced down to my outfit and then clenched his jaw.

  “Yeah, I got… caught up.”

  “Doing what?” I questioned.

  “Fighting with Breanna.”

  Oh.

  I didn’t say anything because… what was that old adage? If you can’t say something nice, then don’t say it at all. Yes. That was going to be my new rule when I was around Dawson and he brought up Breanna, because I would never have anything nice to say. She could be the Queen of fucking England and I would still hate her.

  The next hour flew by. Dawson and I barely spoke, and I could tell that his shoulders were tense anytime I glanced up at him. He was standing on a small ladder, putting up the last of the molding. The lights were dim in the living room, and as it was nearing October, the long light of summer was slowly disappearing and darkness was coming sooner and sooner every night.

  Dawson was standing underneath a light that he’d hung up above his head and it literally looked as if he was in a spotlight, illuminating his handsome features that much more. I took in his every attribute, the shine of his golden-brown hair, the straightness of his nose, how
his lower cheeks had that edible little bit of scruff lining them.

  Suddenly, Dawson turned his head and found me staring at him. I snapped my head down so quickly that it popped. It popped loud enough that he probably heard it from across the room. A flush started to creep up my neck and I basically wanted to die.

  Does he know how attractive he is? Does he know how attracted I am to him? He’s grown into such a steely, handsome man that even straight men are probably in awe of him.

  Breanna is a lucky, lucky girl. I hope she knows that.

  I hurriedly put my attention back onto Emmett’s paperwork for the next few minutes.

  “Aha!” I shouted.

  I peered up at Dawson and a sly smile formed on my face.

  “What?” he questioned.

  “Come here, I’ll show you.”

  I wanted to jump up and down all around the room as confetti fell from above, because I had put it all together. I found where they were losing money and I knew exactly who was taking it.

  Carrie.

  It was obvious. She thought she was being slick with adding the wrong deposits into the bank, but she was clearly lacking knowledge as her numbers didn’t match up at all. I’m not sure if she was truly stupid or if she didn’t think anyone would notice, but after comparing the last several bank statements until my eyes bled, it was obvious.

  Dawson strode over to me and slowly lowered his body to where I was sitting. He pushed his shoulders and back along the same wall that mine was leaning against and angled his head down to the paper in my hand.

  I began showing him how the numbers didn’t add up correctly and where Carrie just so happened to stop marking the correct amounts onto the deposit slips. He inched a little closer and I could smell the soap he’d used; I could smell the last little bit of shampoo still lingering in his hair.

  His jean-clad leg rubbed against the little sliver of skin on my bare thigh from where my skirt had risen and I gulped. I knew my voice would be shaky if I spoke, but he’d asked me a question and I couldn’t feign becoming a mute in a matter of a few seconds, so I answered anyway.

  I opened my mouth, trying to calm my heart. “The first time she did it was over five months ago, and then…” He adjusted his leg against mine once more and I literally had to catch my breath. I swallowed, clearing my throat. “Ur, um…” I took my finger and pointed to the increasing amount of times that she’d marked the wrong amount. “Right here, and then right here again… and then—” Dawson took his own hand and placed it in the spot that I was about to move to.