her thumbs, she quietly waited for him to figure out the proper placement of the straps. His patience with the task proved fruitful and he got Hunter secured in faster time than it’d initially taken her to figure out. Dutifully impressed, she climbed into the passenger seat and fiddled with her own safety harness. A moment later Dylan slid behind the wheel and she offered him a high five.
His smile warmed her all the way to her toes. “I did okay?”
“Gold star worthy.”
“Damn. Go me.” He gunned the engine and they were on their way.
The trip to her farmhouse was a pleasant distraction from all the concerns and doubts buzzing in her head. With the windows down, the sticky breeze spiked with the scent of summertime lulled her into a dreamy haze. It was so easy to pretend this fantasy was real—that she and Dylan were normal parents, out for a normal afternoon drive after spending some normal family time together.
It was all so perfectly normal.
“What are ya thinkin’ about?”
Snapping from her daydream, she peered at Dylan. “Huh?”
“You had this look on your face just now. Like you were visitin’ the happiest place on earth.” He chuckled. “Were ya thinkin’ about Disneyland?”
She shot a quick glance over her shoulder and gusted a sigh of relief at Hunter’s sleep-lax face. Making a tsking sound, she gave Dylan the stink eye. “Mom’s rule—you’re not allowed to speak that name in front of a three-year-old unless you’re prepared to listen to a twenty-four hour continuous loop of said child begging to see Mickey.”
“Duly noted.” He tore his attention from the road long enough to send her a devilish look. “Is that rule before or after the no biting one?”
Heat spread through her like an eruption of lava. The wicked man was going to be the death of her. “I’ll let you figure that one out on your own.”
“Oh, I will.”
Lord, what monster had she unleashed? Gulping, she wisely kept her mouth shut for the rest of the journey. They parked in the driveway and Dylan once again shooed away her attempts at freeing Hunter from his car seat. He carried their limp, blissfully snoring son all the way to his bedroom and carefully tucked him in bed.
Shaking his head at Hunter’s knocked-out state, Dylan scooted the teddy bear with the missing eye underneath Hunter’s arm. “Man, wish I could go down for the count like that.”
“You and me both.”
Dylan straightened and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What do you usually do while he’s sleepin’?”
“Take the opportunity to recharge before he’s up and Mr. Energizer Bunny again.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You mean a nap?”
“Sometimes. If I can sneak one in. My special treat is getting to read a book in the bathtub without Little Man trying to drown his G.I. Joe doll in there with me.”
“Should I be jealous that G.I. Joe has been spending quality soaking time with you?”
She batted her eyelashes. “He does tend to get fresh with me.”
“Don’t blame him one bit.”
The butterflies in her stomach whipped into a frenzy at the concentrated way Dylan stared at her. Jitterier than if she’d guzzled two carafes of coffee, she chaffed her arms and inched toward the doorway. “Are you hungry? I could always wrangle together some snacks.”
Not giving him room to shoot down that plan, she ducked into the hall and hauled ass into the kitchen. Sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, she yanked open the pantry’s accordion doors and blindly canvassed the available options. She grabbed the closest box, not even conscious of what it was, and pivoted—crashing into the solid wall of muscle behind her.
Gasping, she clutched at Dylan, dropping the package in the process. He kicked it away with his boot before pressing her up against the pantry’s frame and bracketing her face with his big hands. The next instant that mouth she couldn’t stop thinking about slammed over hers. She wished she could say
His smile warmed her all the way to her toes. “I did okay?”
“Gold star worthy.”
“Damn. Go me.” He gunned the engine and they were on their way.
The trip to her farmhouse was a pleasant distraction from all the concerns and doubts buzzing in her head. With the windows down, the sticky breeze spiked with the scent of summertime lulled her into a dreamy haze. It was so easy to pretend this fantasy was real—that she and Dylan were normal parents, out for a normal afternoon drive after spending some normal family time together.
It was all so perfectly normal.
“What are ya thinkin’ about?”
Snapping from her daydream, she peered at Dylan. “Huh?”
“You had this look on your face just now. Like you were visitin’ the happiest place on earth.” He chuckled. “Were ya thinkin’ about Disneyland?”
She shot a quick glance over her shoulder and gusted a sigh of relief at Hunter’s sleep-lax face. Making a tsking sound, she gave Dylan the stink eye. “Mom’s rule—you’re not allowed to speak that name in front of a three-year-old unless you’re prepared to listen to a twenty-four hour continuous loop of said child begging to see Mickey.”
“Duly noted.” He tore his attention from the road long enough to send her a devilish look. “Is that rule before or after the no biting one?”
Heat spread through her like an eruption of lava. The wicked man was going to be the death of her. “I’ll let you figure that one out on your own.”
“Oh, I will.”
Lord, what monster had she unleashed? Gulping, she wisely kept her mouth shut for the rest of the journey. They parked in the driveway and Dylan once again shooed away her attempts at freeing Hunter from his car seat. He carried their limp, blissfully snoring son all the way to his bedroom and carefully tucked him in bed.
Shaking his head at Hunter’s knocked-out state, Dylan scooted the teddy bear with the missing eye underneath Hunter’s arm. “Man, wish I could go down for the count like that.”
“You and me both.”
Dylan straightened and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What do you usually do while he’s sleepin’?”
“Take the opportunity to recharge before he’s up and Mr. Energizer Bunny again.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You mean a nap?”
“Sometimes. If I can sneak one in. My special treat is getting to read a book in the bathtub without Little Man trying to drown his G.I. Joe doll in there with me.”
“Should I be jealous that G.I. Joe has been spending quality soaking time with you?”
She batted her eyelashes. “He does tend to get fresh with me.”
“Don’t blame him one bit.”
The butterflies in her stomach whipped into a frenzy at the concentrated way Dylan stared at her. Jitterier than if she’d guzzled two carafes of coffee, she chaffed her arms and inched toward the doorway. “Are you hungry? I could always wrangle together some snacks.”
Not giving him room to shoot down that plan, she ducked into the hall and hauled ass into the kitchen. Sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, she yanked open the pantry’s accordion doors and blindly canvassed the available options. She grabbed the closest box, not even conscious of what it was, and pivoted—crashing into the solid wall of muscle behind her.
Gasping, she clutched at Dylan, dropping the package in the process. He kicked it away with his boot before pressing her up against the pantry’s frame and bracketing her face with his big hands. The next instant that mouth she couldn’t stop thinking about slammed over hers. She wished she could say
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