6
Ruined Intentions
“Crap,” Isabel muttered when she heard the doorbell ring. “I’ll never be on time for anything. Mom!” she called out, “Can you answer the door?! I think it’s Wesley, and I’m not quite ready yet!”
“No surprise there!” Tyler called out from his room down the hall.
“Very funny!” she replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
“I know, right?!”
Isabel laughed at her brother’s response and waited for her mom to answer. “Mom?!” she tried again, her arms above her head as she fought with the clip in her hair.
“Already headed to the door!” Bridgette finally called.
Isabel heard the clip click a few moments later and dashed back into her room. She glanced at the dresses on her bed and headed to her closet to try on another one. Eventually deciding on her black shift dress with a bright beaded necklace, Isabel selected some earrings from the tray on top of her dresser, her fingertips brushing lovingly across the detailed etchings her father had carved there years ago. “I wonder what Daddy would have thought of Wesley,” she thought, hoping he would have approved. With a final glance in the mirror, she slipped on her flats and headed downstairs.
Wesley was standing near the arm of the couch, drumming his fingers against the side of his leg and glancing at his watch. “Hey,” he greeted her, “You look nice today.”
“Thanks,” she blushed.
“Are you ready for the movie?”
“Yep, let’s go.”
“Honey?!” her mother’s voice came from the kitchen where she was drinking coffee with Jet’s mom, Helen.
“Yeah, Mom?”
The older brunette’s head popped out of the kitchen doorway. “I’d like you home by ten tonight. You still have to get up and babysit tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” Isabel replied, rolling her eyes as she turned away. “Sorry.” She mouthed to Wesley.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Dearly. I’ll have her home on time,” he assured her mother, guiding her to the door.
Bridgette smiled and disappeared back into the kitchen.
“I just don’t understand why you let the kids yell across the house, Bridgette,” they heard Helen say as they left.
“So, what’ll it be, The Savage or that new rom-com movie?” Wesley asked her once they were in his convertible.
“You have to ask?”
“Uh…I guess so,” Wesley said, raising a brow.
“I don’t do scary, remember? My imagination’s too vivid for my own good.”
He took a second, pressing his lips together as he took a breath. “Okay, rom-com it is then.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem,” he flashed Izzy a charming smile as the Mustang’s engine roared to life, the vibration sending her a little thrill as they pulled away from the house.
The engine settled into a purr as they reached the highway, and Isabel leaned back into the soft, black, leather seats, noticing how the rich smell reminded her of Wesley: expensive, like money and old leather rather than new like his car.
It wasn’t bad. It was just…weird, like not a smell you’d want to sink into at the end of a long day. Tucker’s family was pretty well off, too, but he didn’t smell like that. She couldn’t pinpoint his exactly, but it was…good.
“Why am I thinking about Tucker’s smell?”she caught herself. She shook the thought away, determined to enjoy her date, no matter what Annie had said earlier.