Page 33 of An Investigator For Ivy

Looks like middle ground it is. Time and place?

He typed in his address and knew it might be a big mistake, but they’d come this far. It was about three thirty at this time so he said five. That would give him time to clean the house and shower.

She said she’d see him then.

Looked like he had some work to do. Might as well start with his sheets...if they made it that far.

Just because she was coming here for sex didn’t mean it was going to happen. He had too much to say first.

At five he was satisfied his small home was in good enough condition and the doorbell went off.

He moved to the front to open the door and saw Ivy standing there with a pizza box in her hand. His eyes dropped to her feet and, damn it all, those nude heels again with jeans on.

“How did you know I might not be making dinner,” he asked.

“Please,” she said. “That would mean you were thinking 1 or 2 and we know that isn’t the case. Since you threw it out there that I was thinking it, I thought I might as well bring food to give us energy for the second item.”

He tried to process her words. She sure did talk a lot. “What kind did you get?” he asked.

“Pepperoni. I haven’t met a man yet that doesn’t like it. Tonight could be a first though.”

“Pepperoni is good,” he said. “I’m not fussy. And thanks for bringing it.”

She walked in when he moved back. “Is this your house?”

“I live here,” he said.

“I mean do you rent or own it?”

“I own it,” he said. “Been here a few years now.”

“It’s nice,” she said. “I’ve never been with a guy that owned his own place before.”

“You’re young,” he said. “I’m guessing you’re dating men your own age.”

“But this isn’t a date,” she said, “right?”

She had him there. “I’m not sure it’s sex either. We should talk first.”

“Talking puts it in the date category.”

She was wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“Good point. How about we don’t put it in any category for now and just eat and see where things fall?”

“I’m hoping clothing is what falls,” she said. “And just so you know, I don’t do this a lot.”

“Guess we’ll find that out while we talk,” he said.

It had crossed his mind she did. It was obvious she’d been flirting with him every time they were within a few feet of each other except for the night of the break-in.

He wasn’t biting and she didn’t seem to get the hint.

Or maybe he was giving out confusing signals and she was trying to figure it out on her own.

At any point he could have clearly said he wasn’t interested and he hadn’t done that.

Because though he didn’t think he wanted a relationship, he was interested in something she had to offer.

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