Page 68 of Single Dad Dilemma
Leave. Now.
The last time I’d been in the kitchen feeling unmoored and unsteady, I played games with a man who admittedly didn’t deserve it. I didn’t want that to be my default anymore. Not with him.
“I, uh, I should get back home,” I said in a rush. “Larry needs to eat, and ... he’s been really finicky lately.”
Barrett only nodded, and there was a desperate urge to look at his eyes. Could I get a sense of what he was thinking if I did that?
No. That was too dangerous. I left the kitchen, a deep breath punching from my lungs. But I didn’t make it far, pausing when the kids came inside with arms full of boxes.
“I have to go,” I told Maggie. “You did amazing, kid. I told you that, right?”
She grinned. “A couple times.”
Bryce sighed heavily. “She’s going to be unbearable after this.”
The laugh I let out helped ease some of the tension building in my chest.
“I’m serious,” Bryce said. “They’re giving her ashow, and she can bake. It’s terrible.”
I smiled. “I heard. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way to humble her in no time.”
Maggie sniffed. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll let you cohost.”
He perked up. “Really?”
“Occasionally. But I’m the boss.”
Bryce rolled his eyes. “Never mind.”
After saying goodbye to the kids, I set a hand on my trembling stomach and fumbled with my boots. When I straightened to remove my coat from the hook on the wall, I didn’t have to hear anything to know he was standing behind me again.
“What?” I asked, my natural defenses already kicking in.
“You know the drill,” he answered easily.
I glanced over my shoulder, taking him in with a small scoff. He was waiting, hands tucked into his pockets, biceps testing the seams of his sleeves. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to start wearing his shirts a size bigger, but I didn’t think it would help anything.
“Seriously?”
Barrett didn’t answer. He simply watched me with utter stillness, endless patience, as I yanked my coat on.
My steps were fueled by the teeniest amount of embarrassed female rage, but I didn’t say anything else as I crossed the yard separating our houses. When I was on the front porch, I paused, my slightly more rational, less-bitchy defensive side finally taking the reins.
“You gonna do this every single time?” I asked.
Only, it didn’t come out snappish, and to my horror, it didn’t even sound all that bothered. It sounded like ... oh God ... it sounded like I was asking for reassurance.
“Yeah,” he said.
That was it. No explanation. Nothing.
“Why?” I asked raggedly.
Across the yards, Barrett watched me for a moment, his frame expanding on a deep breath. “I’ll answer that when you tell me why you explained your tattoos.”
Oh,fuckhim. My eyes narrowed dangerously, and because I was too far away to tell, it almost looked like Barrett smiled.
“Good night, Lily,” he said, then disappeared into his house.
