Page 74 of Crave Me

I finally feel at home here and I can’t help but feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hopefully, Dallas and I can figure out what we are and a plan to move forward before this combusts.

Despite Dallas’ protests, I drive to the Hayes family home by myself and park my little car out front. Nerves catch up to me as I walk across the driveway, the packed snow crunching under my feet. I take a moment, standing in front of their door and steadying my breathing, giving myself a mental pep talk that everything is fine and there’s no way anyone will find out. I knock twice and only wait a moment before it’s opened.

“Hi, Blaire! I’m so glad you could join us again! I love having a full house,” Amy, Dallas’ mom, greets me. “Come in! Everyone is downstairs in the rec room.”

I slip off my snowy boots outside the door before walking through the entryway behind her, following her into the kitchen.

“Thank you for having me. I made these, I hope they’re okay. I’m not nearly as talented as Ivy, but the recipe I used on the back of the Tollhouse bag seemed legit,” I say with a nervous laugh as I hand her a tray filled with chocolate chip cookies.

“Tried and true! I’m sure they’re delicious. Thank you, sweetie.”

“I know you said everyone is downstairs, but do you need any help with anything?”

She looks at me for a moment with a big smile on her face before answering, “I would love some. Here, wash up, and then if you don’t mind rolling out the pastry dough I have right here?” She points to several bowls with plastic wrap over them. Four stone pie dishes sit in front of a plastic mat with various circles etched into it.

“It smells amazing in here, what are you making?”

“One of my favorites, Liam’s favorite, too. Chicken pot pie. Comfort food today.”

My mouth waters.

After washing my hands, I get to work rolling out each pie crust and pressing them into the pie dishes.

“You seem to be settling in nicely in Aspen Ridge, do you plan to stay for good?” Amy asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I am, I really love everything AR has to offer. I love my job?—”

Dallas barrels into the kitchen, interrupting me, yelling something unintelligible behind him, but when he rights himself, he stops in his tracks, looking at the scene in front ofhim. I stop rolling out the dough, both of us frozen in a moment where everything else around us disappears.

My lips turn up in a smile as I mouth the word “hi” to him. He smiles back with an expression that looks a whole hell of a lot like satisfaction, or maybe something different, as his eyes bounce across the kitchen scene. Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar, but it wraps around my heart and squeezes.

“Hi, baby,” he mouths back before turning to the fridge and opening it. “Hey, Mom, do we have any more of that Elysian Bifrost?”

“If you’re not seeing it with your own two eyes then we’re out, son.”

“And you wonder where I got my snark,” Dallas closes the fridge and says in my direction. I can’t help the snort that comes from me and I quickly cover my mouth with my hand to hide the laugh that follows.

“Go ahead, laugh. But it’s true whether she’ll admit it or not. Everyone thinks she’s the sweetest thing in the world, but she can be a snarky one, just like her son.”

“I suppose you’re not wrong. The only difference is I’ve learned when and where, and you, my son, never learned any tact.”

“You talkin’ about Dal?” Liam says upon entering the kitchen with Charlotte hanging by her ankle upside down in his hand. I cover my mouth and laugh at the sight. He’s so incredibly good with that little girl, it’s shocking to me that he’s not her biological father. It’s clear he loves her like she’s his own. As someone who spent years wishing for that type of relationship, I know she’s going to value it for the rest of her life.

Their mother gives Dallas a pointed stare that reads,told you,and I laugh some more.

“Something funny, princess?”

“Just glad to see that your ogre personality isn’t reserved for just me.”

“Did you just compare my mom’s personality to an ogre? She’s a goddamn angel!”

I pale, realizing quickly how what I said can be taken.

“Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry, that is not what I meant,” I say to his mom.

The three of them laugh and my face changes from deathly white to a bright red tomato.

“Blaire, he’s just giving you a hard time. His sense of humor matches the other traits, I’m afraid.”

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