Page 7 of When Love And Destiny Collide

I hang up the phone and reflect on the fact that I never mentioned just how incredibly good-looking I think her uncle is. No, I'm keeping that to myself.

***

As I slip under the covers, my mind races back to everything I did this month in preparation for Noah's arrival, thinking I was going to meet and love another wonderful member of the Linder family.

I wish I could hit the reset button on today. I was rude to him, but only because he was such a jerk to me. He didn’t even give me a chance to apologize before he unleashed his temper. He only backed off after he saw the ducks crossing the road. It was satisfying to watch the smug look on his face dissolve into chagrin.

Being called "kid" really ticked me off. But calling him "sir"? That hit a nerve. I smile, savoring the memory of the look on his face.

His face—chiseled and more handsome than any man should be allowed to be. Yeah, I totally checked him out. There he stood, in the middle of the road, holding his little boy’s hand. He was seething, but there was a fierce protectiveness in his gaze. His eyes bored into me like molten lava. He was furious, ready to pounce. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I walked away.

“Lily, get a grip," I scold myself. This man could be my father—but he’s not. He’s tall, rugged, and undeniably attractive. His muscular arms and broad shoulders strained against his T-shirt, hinting at strength that made my pulse race. His thick, dark blond hair and those warm cinnamon eyes were so alluring that I couldn't look away. He exudes raw masculinity, the kind that tempts me to let my imagination run wild.

I thought he was a stranger I'd never see again, but now I have to face a new reality. The man I've been thinking about all day is not only my neighbor but also my landlord—and a member of the Linder family, the closest thing I've had to a real family in a long time.

I toss and turn in bed, desperate to distract myself, but my thoughts keep spiraling back. At twenty-three, I should be laser-focused on my plans to open my daycare. This town is where I'm planting my roots and building my future. With my mother gone and my father living sixteen hundred miles away, the Linders are the only family I have. They welcomed me with open arms; I can't risk losing that. Period. I'll have to swallow my pride and apologize to my rude, smoking-hot landlord. Ugh!

***

Sleep eludes me, leaving me to face the morning with a sense of dread. As I drag myself into the kitchen, the thought of what I must do today weighs heavily on me. Maybe I can avoid him altogether—slip the rent check into his mailbox every month and never have to face him. But I quickly remind myself of who he is. I've known the Linders for four years, and for the past eightmonths, I've been a fixture at every family gathering—Sunday dinners, holidays, birthdays, and every special family event—I've been there for all of it. There's no escaping him. I'm doomed!

I'm so lost in thought that I jump when the toaster dings, signaling my half-bagel is ready. I pour myself a glass of orange juice and spread a generous layer of cream cheese on the bagel. Finding a few strawberries in the fridge, I slice them up and arrange them on my plate. As beautiful as it all looks, every bite tastes bland. Sadder still is the fact that I know it's not the food but my mood that's the culprit.

"Do you want to apologize now or later?" I mutter to myself. Later. Definitely later.

I distract myself by doing laundry, scrubbing every surface in the bathroom, changing the sheets on my bed, and browsing online for more classroom furniture.

By eleven o'clock, I'm heading out the door to meet my investors for lunch. Laura and Charles Clay are providing most of the funding I need to open the daycare.

The Clays are life-long friends of the Linders, and the idea for the daycare actually came from Laura. She wanted to create a safe space for small children whose parents visit the art studio next door, allowing them the time to focus on making their art pieces without worry. During the day, we'll provide daycare for working parents, and whenever a customer from Just In Clay Ceramics comes in, we'll watch their little ones for an hourly rate. The studio has a connecting door to the daycare, makingit very convenient for parents. Construction is complete, and I couldn't be more excited. We aim to open by September when kids are going back to school and just in time to catch the holiday rush from the studio, which will be a huge boost for the daycare.

After lunch, I stop by Just In Clayto speak with Zoe, the manager. Sam, the owner of the studio, installed a state-of-the-art childcare management program on the computer that integrates the system between the studio and the daycare. This will ensure we can keep track of all the children, including those who are one-time visitors, streamlining everything from check-ins to hourly updates. It will provide parents with real-time information and will give everyone peace of mind. Zoe and I are learning the program together to ensure a seamless connection by the time we open.

As the studio begins to buzz with activity, I stick around to help Zoe.

"Thanks for everything," Zoe smiles as I head for the door a couple of hours later. "I’ll see you next week."

"Absolutely," I reply, returning the smile. "See you then."

Once in the car, I debate whether I should face the music now or later. I choose later.

***

"Hi, Sharon," I greet her as she opens the door.

"Hi, Lily. Come in. You're just in time to help me with dinner."

I manage a lackluster smile. "What are you making?"

"What's wrong?" she asks, her eyes sharp and perceptive.

I let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, Sharon, I've really messed up."

"No, you haven't," she reassures me, guiding me to a seat. "Sit down."

Darn it! He beat me to the punch. She already knows.

"I take it you spoke with my landlord," I say, leaving out thesmoking hotpart.

---