Page 51 of The Girl He Loves

Chapter 19

Wednesday a week later

Every dayfor the last seven days, I reminded myself not to get used to Dax being around. Even balanced on one crutch, he’s helped around the house, and just that little extra opens up enough breathing room for me to get my schoolwork done.

My mom didn’t hesitate to turn over after-school care to Dax either. Doug thinks she is testing Dax for staying power. I made sure to tell her he wasn’t staying. Last thing I need is Mom dropping off wedding magazines or something equally embarrassing.

I tell her what I know. Dax is here for a few weeks. Truth is, we never talked about why he doesn’t have someone come get him and take him to his mom and dad’s. Only that he says being at his parents’ house is wonderful and hellish at the same time.

The media found out about his accident, and his cell phone has been chiming with emails and ringing off the hook. A few articles question what he was doing at a kid’s flag football game, but an unverified source says he was there watching his nephew.

Dax says his agent spread that rumor. I appreciate the anonymity.

Last thing we need or want is media outside my house.

I drive home from work with the universal question on my mind. What am I going to make for dinner?

The downside to Dax staying with us is his appetite is too big for my small budget. Pasta was always an easy way to stretch dollars, but we’ve had it twice already this week.

When I pull up, Dax is coming from around the house.

I park in the garage, such a wonderful gift, and get out to meet him. He’s resting on his crutches behind my van.

I sniff. “Are you grilling?”

“Steaks and shrimp. I had groceries delivered. Sorry, it took me a few days to realize I was eating everything you had.”

I wave a hand dismissively like it isn’t a big deal, but inside I’m relieved. And embarrassed. Payday is today, so I couldn’t shop any earlier.

“It smells so good.”

He smiles. “You up for making a salad?”

I toss my purse over my shoulder. “I’d love to.” I turn to go, but he grabs me by my elbow.

“Real quick. I want to tell you something out here. I don’t want Tyler to hear.”

My heart plummets. No matter how hard I try to be realistic, that this week of playing house can’t go on forever. Sometimes I’ve let myself indulge in the fantasy of it.

“This sounds bad,” I say, hoping he’ll reassure me.

“You tell me. I have an opinion, but I don’t want to make snap judgements.”

Now I’m concerned. I lean against the workbench and try not to think of us getting hot and bothered all over it. I cross my arms preparing for blows. “Hit me with it.”

“Your ex came by today.”

Cocking my head, I say, “Justin?”

Dax’s lips quirk. “Do you have another?”

“Lord, no. What did he want?”

“To bring you a check.” He reaches into his back pocket, then pulls out a folded square of paper and holds it out to me.

I take it and open it. Sure enough, it’s a child support check.

Dax says, “Lemme guess. It’s not close to what he owes you?”

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