Page 12 of Bad Business

He looks me over, taking in my disheveled state, and raises an eyebrow. “Wow, Willow, you look like you’ve been through a war zone,” he says, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“Not now, Dallas,” I snap, my voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. “I’ve had a rough night.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just checking in on you and your daughter.”

The way he says daughter makes my hackles rise, and I narrow my eyes on him.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs as if his being here is normal. “Thought you might need some help.”

“Help?” I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich coming from you.”

He steps closer, concern replacing the sarcasm in his eyes. “Seriously, Willow, you look exhausted. When was the last time you slept?”

I shake my head, unable to form a coherent response. The tears I’ve been holding back threaten to spill over, and I turn away from him, hoping he doesn’t see.

“Willow,” he says softly, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Despite my anger, I feel a flicker of gratitude. I let out a shaky breath and turn to face him.

“I’m just so tired, Dallas.”

He shoulders past me into the living room, leaving me to stare out into the early morning sky. For a moment, I’m transfixed on how the red and orange paint the clouds like cotton candy as the sun rises. Shaking out of the trance I’m in, I turn and sigh.

“Why are you here?”

I watch as he crosses the room and disappears into the kitchen. Needing to put my eyes on Juniper, I hurry down the hallway and poke my head into my room. She’s still snug as a bug in the center of the bed. As much as I want to stare at her, I have to deal with the confusing man in my kitchen.

Standing in the doorway, I watch Dallas at the sink, his sleeves rolled up on his pristine white shirt, exposing the sinewy strength of his forearms as he methodically washes each dish. The water runs over his hands, creating a rhythmic sound that is weirdly soothing. His face is a mix of concentration and calm, and I feel a sudden, surprising longing surge through me.

Seeing him like this, so domestic and compassionate, tugs at something deep within me. It conflicts with everything I know about him, making the moment even more confusing. My emotions, already frayed, begin to unravel, and tears spill down my cheeks before I can stop them.

Dallas must hear me because he stops what he’s doing. In a few strides, he crosses the small space and pulls me into a tight hold. His arms wrap around me with a firmness that shocks me. He runs his fingers through my tangled hair, his touch tender.

“It’s okay, Willow,” he murmurs, his voice soft and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” I step back from his embrace.

“It’s fine, Willow.” Questions burn in the deep brown pools as he holds my gaze. “Why isn’t her dad here helping you?”

“I don’t know who her father is… Dallas, Juniper isn’t mine. Well, biologically. She’s my niece.” I watch a myriad of questions filter across his expression.

“I see.” He dips his chin. “Where is —”

Just as he asks the one thing I’m not ready to explain, my phone buzzes across the counter's surface, sparing me from telling him everything. Snatching it quickly, I put some needed distance between us. Dragging him into this mess is not a wise idea. Dallas follows me as I escape into the living room. I read the message, and my heart drops into my stomach. The words blur as panic sets in, and I feel my hands start to shake.

“What is it?” Dallas asks, concern etched across his face.

I darken the screen and lay it on the coffee table. “Nothing.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Willow, if something’s wrong?—”

“Dallas, please,” I interrupt, my voice sharper than I intended, but I need to put up walls to protect him, and frankly, my heart seems to beat a mile a minute from the nearness of this man. “My personal life is none of your business. Besides, you’ve made it clear you don’t like me. Let’s just keep this professional. I’ll be back to work tonight as long as Juniper’s fever stays down.”

His expression hardens, hurt flashing in his eyes. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” I say firmly, though my heart aches at the sight of him stepping back. “I’m sorry, Dallas. I just… it’s how it has to be.”

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