Page 34 of Writing On The Wall

“A bug?”

“Try again.”

She lets out a frustrated groan. Guess I’m still coming off as an ass. Her hands fold across her chest—a classic defiant stance. My eyes are desperate to wander, but that would only amplify the steam—not in a sexy way, but to the point where it’s coming out of Ivy’s ears. And I’mtryingto be a gentleman.

“The water heater isn’t working, so my shower was cold. Now, tell me why you’re standing in my living room at eight AM again?”

The little sprite hadn’t told me the water heater was broken when I made the list of things that needed fixing.

“No reason,” I retort with a shrug and my most charming smile. But I don’t think she’s had her coffee yet, because she’s clearly interpreting it wrong—as usual. Her face scrunches up again as she throws her hands up in defeat.

“Whatever. I need to get dressed.” She huffs before scurrying off to her room and slamming the door behind her.

That went well.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

IVY

I wasn’t planning on seeing Ethan today, but that’s not the reason I put a little extra effort into my appearance. I’m visiting Gran and then Opal and Gail later.

That’s the reason.

Theonlyreason.

I opt for denim overalls over my favorite flower patterned tank-top—nothing extravagant. My overalls are adorned with fingerprint-shaped paint smudges—clear evidence of my profession since glitter glue and poster paint find their way onto everything I wear. My teal wedges and a cherry pink hair bow complete my look.

Sometimes I entertain the idea of stepping out in flip-flops or Crocs. I admittedly find their comfort alluring. But then I’m reminded of the pizza delivery guy who mistook me for a kid who was home alone last month, or the embarrassment I feel each time I have to get a step stool just to fetch a glass from the cupboard for a guest in my own kitchen.

It’s no wonder why I prioritize the added height over comfort.

“So what’s the plan for today?” I call out, walking down the hallway to find the living room empty. “Ethan?”

I lift a blind open, looking up and down the street. No truck.

Rude.

My hands rest on my hips as I huff out a breath, reading over Ethan’s fix-it list.My stomach cuts an annoying little flip when my eyes land on the message he must have added to the wall after I left last night.

“Your ladder is crap. Don’t climb it. Will bring new one.”

This man put the wordcrapon my wall. He should come with a warning:Inclined to aggravate and cause confusion.I don’t know what to make of his grouchy protectiveness.

I decide to call Ember while I rip off wall paper in the kitchen.

“Vee! How’s the reno going?”

“Meh. It’s going.”

“Ethan being helpful?”

I snort out a laugh. “If you call grumpy and overly protectivehelpful,then sure.”

“Just to be clear, it is EthanKingwe’re talking about, right?”

“The one and only.” I grunt, stepping onto a stool to start scraping the wall.

“Huh,” she replies thoughtfully.

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