Deep Down (Lockhart Brothers #1) (14 page)

“Hi Ivy,” Dr. Stein said, closing the exam room door behind him. “What’s going on with Noah?”

“He has a fever and a bit of a runny nose. I didn’t notice the runny nose this morning but I guess it developed at daycare today.”

Dr. Stein scanned his small computer. “Low-grade temp. Let’s have a look, Noah.”

He checked his ears, nose, throat and chest. Noah, who was half-asleep, didn’t protest.

“Just a bit of a cold, I think,” Dr. Stein said, returning his stethoscope to its spot around his neck. “Rotate Tylenol and ibuprofen for the fever, give him plenty of liquids and let him rest.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“I don’t mean to harp, Ivy, but have you checked on your parents’ medical records? I’ve been telling you since Noah was born that given the nature of his paternity, we have to follow him extra close for developmental delays. Knowing his family medical history could be important at some point.”

I sighed and looked away. Dr. Stein had delivered Noah, and he was the only one I’d shared the truth with. It was protected medical information and he’d told me I was right to share it since children from parent-child unions had an increased risk of medical problems. He checked Noah thoroughly at every checkup and so far hadn’t seen anything abnormal.

“I still haven’t contacted my father about it,” I admitted.

“I know that is probably something you don’t want to face but please do. Noah is perfectly normal from everything I can see. He’s even a little ahead on some things. We’re past the point of serious concern, but we need to stay tuned in. And family medical history can be critical information for anyone.”

“Yes, you’re right. I need to get it.”

Dr. Stein smiled at me. “You’re doing a great job, Ivy. Keep up the good work.”

I thanked him and we said goodbye. The thought of reaching out to my father for any reason made me nauseous. But for Noah . . .

Once I got Noah down for a nap at home, I wrote a perfunctory letter to my father. I couldn’t bring myself to write the words ‘Dear Dad.’

Hi. It’s Ivy. My son’s pediatrician needs his family medical history. Can you please send yours and anything you know of Mom’s? Thanks.

I used the diner’s address as my own. Not that he couldn’t probably find me if he wanted to, but I couldn’t stand the thought of leading him right to my doorstep.

Hopefully he’d send it and that would be that. If he ever came to Lovely, my safe haven, he’d find out his helpless daughter had plenty of fight when it came to protecting her son.

I PUNCHED AND WOVE
to one side, hoping to avoid Mason’s blow to my face. But like all the other times he’d hit me since we started boxing almost forty minutes earlier, his reflexes were a little faster than mine.

“Fuck,” I muttered when he struck my cheekbone. “Enough.”

“Yeah, you had that coming for all your trash talk about kicking my ass,” he said, grinning.

“I’ve always been faster than you.” I shook my head as I unlaced a glove with my teeth, confused.

“I still box a couple times a week, though. You’re always behind a desk now.”

“I lift and work out but, until now, I haven’t had anyone to box with.”

“I’m happy to help. Besides, you don’t have a ball and chain like Kyle and Austin.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll never understand why they got married so young. Kim’s a fucking nightmare. You think Kyle had some warning she’d end up like this?”

I shook my head. “No way he would’ve married her if he’d known.”

“Monogamy isn’t natural,” Mason added.

“Kyle loved Kim enough to take a chance, I guess.”

“She demanded a bigger wedding ring for their anniversary,” Mason said. “Did you hear that? Said it needs to be at least three carats.”

I was drinking from a water bottle as he spoke and I choked out a laugh. “A new wedding ring? I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“It is for Kim. Sometimes I swear she’s trying to push him to divorce her.”

“Has to be hard for Kyle, man. They’ve got kids and he’s got a high pressure job.”

“Yeah. They’re the perfect example of why I might never settle down.”

“Me either.” I stepped out of the ring and pulled off my sweaty shirt. “Hey, Dad needs us to help him move some bookcases up from the basement at their place. I told him we’d come by when we were done here.”

“I think you’ve had enough ass kicking for today. You ready to go?”

I glared at him. “I’m ready for more anytime.”

“Good. You’re a good sparring partner for me. Seriously, that was pretty close to a draw.”

“It was fun.” We headed for the locker room and I turned to my brother. “Hey, you ever teach a woman how to box?”

He snorted a laugh. “No, but it sounds like great foreplay.”

An image of a sweaty Ivy, with a gleam of determination in her blue eyes, made me grin. “Yeah, you might be right.”

“Who you wantin’ to teach?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled dismissively.

“The waitress?”

“Her name’s Ivy.”

“She’s hot.”

“Stay away from her,” I said, a warning in my tone.

“Easy, little brother. I wouldn’t go after any woman you’re interested in.”

I nodded, took off my sweaty clothes and headed for the shower.

Ivy was on my mind as I lathered soap over my arms and chest. She was on my mind most all the time lately. I kept remembering the way she’d looked sitting next to me on the bench, strands of her dark red hair blowing across her face when a breeze passed.

She’d only said that she didn’t date—not that she wasn’t interested in me. It didn’t feel like a polite brush off. The way she’d turned me down had sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as me that she didn’t date.

I finished my shower and dried off, still thinking about her. She stayed on my mind during the drive to my parents’ house and the time spent moving the bookcases.

When I went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, I leaned against the counter and looked out on the bright sun porch. My gaze went to the spot where Ivy had been sitting when she’d been here a week ago.

“Hi Reed,” my mom said as she walked into the kitchen. “You look deep in thought.”

I shrugged.

“What’s on your mind?” she prodded.

“Ivy.”

She nodded and gave me a knowing smile. “I can understand why. She’s pretty fantastic, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. I asked her out and she shut me down.”

“Hmm.” Mom furrowed her brow. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think she dates anyone.”

“I know, but . . . I think she’s interested in me. And I’m way beyond interested in her. I just don’t understand why she won’t give me a chance.”

“I think she’s very protective of her son.”

“I’m willing to put in as much time as it takes to earn her trust.”

Mom approached and reached up to cup my cheek in her palm. “Sounds like you’ve got your heart set on her.”

“Noah, too. How often does a man get to know a woman’s an amazing mother before he’s even taken her out on a first date?”

“Well then, I say go for it.” She went to the fridge and got out a water for herself.

I sighed with exasperation. “I tried.”

“What, asking her out once?” Mom laughed ruefully. “Do you know how many times your father asked me out before I said yes?”

“Sixteen.” I’d heard the story many times.

“There are men all over the place looking for sex. Especially in this day and age. If you want something more from Ivy, prove it to her.”

I nodded. “I’m not giving up. I just don’t know what it’ll take to win her over. And . . . crazy as I know it sounds, I think she needs me. Sometimes I see this look in her eyes like . . . she wants something more.”

“You’ll figure it out. Be patient with her.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face, feeling anything but patient. Seeing Ivy during my weekday lunches at the diner wasn’t enough. I wanted her to look up at me like she had that night at the barn dance, questioning whether I was going to kiss her. Only next time, I’d answer her question differently.

I DROPPED OFF FOOD
for a table of four, tucking my tray under my arm when it was empty. It was lunch hour, and the diner was completely packed. I had lots of customers who should’ve been on my mind, but only one was commanding my attention.

Tom Marsh hadn’t made a single inappropriate comment or tried to rub up against me today. He was probably just in a bad mood. But the way he was watching me from his spot alone at a small table was unnerving.

Every time I glanced over, his eyes were on me. And he didn’t have his usual lighthearted smile. He looked intent.

I considered asking Margie to fill his drink and drop off his check. But just a second later I reconsidered. I wouldn’t let myself be intimidated.

When I slid his check and a fresh drink onto his table, Tom shifted in his seat and smiled at me.

“You’ve got a boy, don’t you, Ivy?”

His mention of Noah made my skin prickle with nervousness. “Yes.”

“And you’re all on your own, right? Just you and him.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” I furrowed my brow and gave him a
get to the point
look.

“I think you could use a good friend. Someone you could spend some time with and not have the whole town know about it. You know, someone who would help out with money and stuff so you’d have more to spend on your boy.”

My stomach rolled with nausea. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

“I’m a very private person,” I said, not knowing how else to respond. “And I really don’t have time for friends.”

“Everyone needs friends. Don’t you think you deserve to be treated special by a man?”

“Uh . . . like I said, I don’t have time.”

Tom continued in a low tone. “Make time. I’d take real good care of you, Ivy. And no one would need to know.”

“This is inappropriate, Tom. So, first of all, the answer is no. And second of all, you’re married.”

“Get off your high horse.” Now his tone was aggravated. “I know you could use some extra money.”

His suggestion that I’d sell sex was the last straw. I’d ignored his advances for long enough. He made me feel worse than cheap when he pawed me, stared at my boobs and left me a tip afterwards. He made me feel worthless.