11. Ivy

11

IVY

“Enjoy your stay.”

“We will. Thank you.”

As the guest I’d been helping walked off and the others in the lobby were already being helped by the rest of the front desk staff, my eyes scanned the area on the opposite side of the desk. I often did that, wanting to make sure there was nothing out of place or needing to be attended to.

As my gaze swept through the space, they landed on Marco. He had just walked in from the opposite side, a sign he’d been working out in the villas all morning long. I perked up at the sight of him, and when his eyes met mine, I waved him over in my direction.

It was Monday afternoon now, and this was the first time I was seeing Marco since he’d come over to my place on Saturday for dinner. But just because I hadn’t seen him since then didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about him. Even when my parents and Jules both stopped over to visit with me yesterday, I had random thoughts of Marco popping into my head, and much to my surprise, I was quickly learning that I didn’t mind having him there.

“Looks like it’s been a busy morning here,” he said as he came to a stop in front of me.

I huffed. “Yeah, it really has been, which is surprising, because I don’t think we’ve ever really been this busy in the middle of winter. What’s worse is that I’ve been trying to help out up here with guests, and I’ve got some other things I need to deal with for a few upcoming events we’ve got happening over the next couple of weeks. How has your morning been?”

He chuckled. “Good. Productive. And the new tiles are expected to be here by the middle of this week, so I’m doing as much as I can with the guys that I’ve got working with me to prepare for that.”

“Taking a break now?” I pressed.

“I’m going to grab lunch.”

My brows drew together. “Is it already lunch time? Wow, this day really is flying by.”

Marco smiled at me. “Would you like to join me?”

My lungs stopped functioning as my belly pitched.

With the relationship I’d had with Marco for years, I never would have given something like this a second thought. Sure, he hadn’t ever asked me to join him for lunch before, but if he had, I don’t think I would have thought it was anything more than him being the casual, laidback guy he always had been.

But now?

Now, it meant something.

Because we’d had that night in the hotel room and two dinners together at my place. He’d also offered to take a woodcarving class with me. Now that he was asking me to lunch, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about how many years had passed without me getting a single person to ask me on a date. I hadn’t even been trying to make that happen with Marco, but it seemed to keep happening.

Were these encounters having anywhere close to the same meaning for him as they did for me?

I wanted to accept his invite.

I desperately wanted to go with him.

Sadly, I couldn’t. “I wish I could. Unfortunately, we’re swamped here, and I’m a little behind on what I need to get done. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We can do it another time.”

Another time.

It was like he knew just how much I wished I could have joined him. Either that, or maybe he was just as eager as I was to have a lunch date.

“That sounds great. I’d love that.”

Smiling at me, he asked, “Can I get you anything while I’m out?”

“No, thank you. I brought food with me, so I’ll be good.”

“Oh, lucky you. Was it more of that homemade chicken dish I haven’t been able to forget since you made it for me?”

I tipped my head to the side, smiling back at him, and felt the warmth flood my veins. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d spent the time since our dinner together on Saturday night recalling everything I liked about it. “It is not that chicken, but I’m happy to know you enjoyed it that much.”

“It was incredible.”

Following a beat, I said, “Well, I won’t keep you from getting your lunch. I just wanted to ask you if you had plans for tonight.”

Marco’s brows shot up, silently questioning me. “I do not.”

“Well, I looked into the woodcarving classes like you mentioned, and there’s a beginner’s class tonight at seven, if you still want to go.”

His eyes gleamed. “Yeah. Yeah, I definitely want to go. I’ll pick you up by six-thirty. Will that work?”

“That’s perfect.”

“Hey, Marco. Ivy.”

Marco and I tore our attention away from one another and faced my mom. “Hey, Mom. What’s going on?”

Her eyes shifted between the two of us. “Everything okay here?”

Before I had the chance to respond, Marco said, “I was just telling Ivy about the progress on the villas. She helped select a new tile pattern for the bathrooms after we were sent the incorrect sizes.”

“Oh, I heard about that from Tate. Have the new ones arrived yet?”

Marco shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m expecting them later this week.”

“That’s great. I really need to get out there and check out the progress on the villas. Malcolm told me he saw them last week and was really impressed with how great they look.”

Tossing his thumb over his shoulder, Marco offered, “I was about to head out for lunch, but I can take you on a quick tour before I leave.”

My mom shook her head. “No, no. You go have lunch. I actually need to sit with Ivy to discuss one of the upcoming events we have.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll be back in a little bit if you want to come check them out after you finish with Ivy.”

“Sounds great, Marco.”

Marco glanced at me, looked back at my mom, and smiled. “You ladies have fun.”

My mom didn’t hesitate to reassure him. “We will.”

As Marco walked away, I couldn’t miss the way my throat had tightened. Sure, he and I had been talking about the villas, but that hadn’t been the full extent of our conversation. Did he not want my mom to know we were taking a class together tonight? Obviously, I hadn’t made mention of it to anyone yesterday when they visited me at home, but that was mostly because it would have been completely random.

This was different. Marco and I were both here, and he didn’t seem to feel compelled to share what the brunt of our conversation had been—him asking me to lunch or us making plans to get together tonight.

Was he embarrassed? Did he not think it was a big deal? Or, worst of all, did he not want anyone to know?

My mom and I made our way back to my office to sort out some details for the upcoming event, but I had a difficult time focusing.

Why did I get the distinct feeling that Marco wanted to hide what was happening between us?

I’d been so out of sorts for the remainder of the workday, working myself into a frenzy about the way Marco responded to my mom, that I had myself convinced he’d never show up to pick me up like we had originally planned.

But promptly at six-thirty, a knock came at my front door, and Marco was on the other side.

He didn’t look upset or uncomfortable. He didn’t even seem to feel guilty, either. “Ready?”

Maybe I’d read too much into what happened with my mom earlier. “I am.”

I grabbed my things and locked up the house before stepping out and walking with Marco to his truck. Once we were on our way, headed back toward downtown Landing, any of the concerns I’d had about Marco’s reaction vanished. Because my thoughts began to drift toward the one thing that I’d avoided thinking about for days now.

The attack.

I didn’t know if I was wearing my nerves on my face or if it was just instinct on Marco’s part, but he quickly broke the tension-filled silence in the vehicle. “Nervous?” he asked.

My eyes had been focused on the road, but the second he spoke, I turned my attention toward him. “Maybe a little bit. This is… It’s the first I’m going to be in the downtown area since… since it happened.”

Marco tore his attention from the road, glanced over at me, and his features softened. When he returned his focus out the windshield, his right hand reached across the center console for mine. “You’re going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

His touch was comforting, his words reassuring. My fingers tightened around his. “I know. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to do this with me.”

I felt the pad of his thumb stroke along my knuckles, his hold on my hand just a touch firmer. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

If he only knew.

Not only had I been physically alone that night, but it was that sense of solitude that had pushed me to be there in the first place. If I hadn’t felt so lonely for so long, that attack never would have happened.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t bring myself to respond, so I squeezed his fingers instead. And a few minutes later, we made it to the area where the classes were being held. On the bright side, Marco managed to find parking much closer to the building we needed to go to, and we were on the opposite end of the block from where I’d been attacked. At least I wouldn’t have to walk past that side street again.

After he parked and released my hand, he looked over at me and said, “Wait right there.”

I chewed on my lip nervously and nodded. Seemingly convinced I wasn’t going to have a total meltdown, Marco exited the truck and came around to my side. And once he opened the door for me, he took me by the hand again, held it firmly in his grasp, and didn’t let go until we had made it inside.

I looked up at him and rasped, “Thank you.”

There was such a softness in his stare, I could have cried at how sweet it was. “It’s my pleasure.”

For the next little while, Marco and I sat beside one another on a pair of stools at our own table, listening to the instructor provide details on the tools in front of us. There were several others doing the same at the remaining tables around the room.

The introduction to the tools was followed by a demonstration on making different relief cuts into the wood and the method for holding the tools to accomplish different types of cuts.

We were then given the opportunity to practice on our own. I glanced over at Marco and found him looking at me with such excitement in his expression. “What’s that look for?”

“I think this is going to be fun. I work with my hands all day long, and I didn’t think there was any chance I’d learn something, but I’ve already been proven wrong.”

“Well, at least we’ve both been humbled now,” I reasoned. “I experienced it with you eating the chicken I made, and now it’s your turn.”

He laughed. “Fair point.” Marco jerked his chin toward the tools splayed on the table. “Alright, which do you want to start with?”

It didn’t matter to me, so I selected one at random. “I’ll use this.”

“Okay. And I guess I’ll use this one.”

Admittedly, I was a bit nervous and unsure about my ability to do this, so I waited and watched as Marco made his first cut. It seemed easy enough, so I took a stab at it, surprising myself when the wood shaving curled away from the block. “Wow,” I marveled.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

I continued to cut into the wood. “It is. I just don’t know if I’d ever be able to make some of those crazy intricate designs the instructor showed us at the start. I feel like it’d be very labor intensive.”

Though I didn’t stop what I was doing or look away from my work, I was aware of Marco’s body beside mine and the way it moved with his laughter. “Just imagine how accomplished you’ll feel if you can get to a point where you make something unique, something you can display in your home, or a gift you can give to someone.”

I brushed away a few more shavings. “I think it’s great for my ego that you have enough faith in me to believe it’s possible I could ever make something that would be a cherished gift for someone.”

Marco’s movements stopped beside me, and without even looking at him, I knew he’d turned his attention to me. “If you made me something, I would treasure it.”

My hands stopped, loosened their hold on the tool, and I glanced up at him with a stuttering heart. “Really?”

“Of course. I understand just how much time and effort you would have put into it, so it would mean a lot to me that you gifted me something like that.”

It might have been the words he said combined with the way he was looking at me, but I grew flustered and needed to do something. So, while keeping my focus on him, I brushed my fingers against the piece of wood I was working with, and that’s when it happened.

“Ouch!” I pulled my hands back, held my right one up in front of my face, and squeezed the tip of my ring finger with my left hand. “I got a splinter.”

“Where? Let me see.” Before I had the chance to respond, Marco took my hand in his and inspected my finger. “Oh, yep. I see it.”

He released my hand and reached into his pocket. I didn’t know what he was doing, so I tried looking at my hand again, doing what I could to squeeze the flesh and force the piece of wood out.

I was so focused—and frustrated—that I didn’t take notice of what Marco had done. But the next thing I knew, he was taking my hand in his again. “Let me get that for you.”

Marco had a pair of mini tweezers in his hand, which left me feeling utterly baffled. “Where did you get those?”

He jerked his head to the table we’d been working at. “I have a Swiss Army knife that has all kinds of useful tools in it.”

My eyes drifted to the table and noted the pocketknife there before they returned to his face. He wasn’t looking at my face, though. His attention stayed focused solely on my finger and the work he was doing. A moment later, he held the tweezers up between us, the tiny piece of wood clamped in its grasp.

“You got it.”

He dipped his chin and smiled. “How does it feel?”

“Instant relief,” I answered. “That tiny piece of wood felt awful, though. I think I’ll feel that for a day or so.”

Without hesitation, Marco lifted my hand slightly and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of my finger. I hadn’t wanted my mouth to fall open the way it had, but I hadn’t expected Marco to do that.

There was a gleam in his eyes when he lifted his gaze from my fingertip to my face, and the only thing I could think of was that I was glad he was holding my hand. If not, I might have collapsed from the sudden dizziness I felt at the sight of that look.

Marco Kingston had just kissed my finger, and it felt like he’d turned my world upside down.

“Is it better now?”

I swallowed hard. When did his voice change? Why was it so deep and seductive? I was still in such a state of shock that my response came out barely a touch over a whisper. “Much better.”

He grinned at me. “You have to be careful.”

I licked my lips, belatedly noticing the way his eyes dropped to them and flared. “I’ll try.”

After he gave me a nod of approval, Marco and I turned back to our table and got back to practicing the techniques our instructor had demonstrated. And for the remainder of the class, no matter how much new information I learned or things I succeeded in doing, nothing compared to the memory of Marco kissing my finger.

And I hated to admit that there was a small part of me that wished, when he took me home after class, that he’d have kissed me again, this time on my lips.

Sadly, Marco was a perfect gentleman.