Page 38 of Homewrecker

Chapter Eleven

Dylan

I don’t know why I’m so nervous.

Like, incredibly nervous.

Cade called before boarding his flight last night—a red eye, at that—and then he called a little over an hour ago when he finally landed in Reno. I’m expecting the ring of the gate at any moment.

I cleaned the kitchen and bathrooms. Changed the sheets in the second-best guest bedroom. I ordered groceries online at the butt-crack of dawn, then picked them up using one of the White’s extra cars three hours later.

None of that helped with the nervous energy coursing through my body.

I don’t understand why he wants to spend his days off set with me.

Well, I do.

Or rather, I hope.

But I shouldn’t.

Shouldn’t hope.

You’re in no position to hope, Dylan Tate O’Neill.

Still.

I hope.

And when the sweet chime of the gate being opened filled the house, I ignore the racing of my heart.

Silly, stupid heart.

I walk to the front door and slip into the pair of cheap flip flops I have there, before stepping outside to watch Cade’s truck come up the long driveway. With my arms crossed under my breasts, I probably look as closed off as I feel, but it’s the nerves and chill in the air. Because there’s no sense hiding that I’m pregnant, big belly or no belly, I chose to forgo my sweatshirt today, but in the shade of the giant trees in the front lot, it’s far colder out front than in the back.

Cade pulls the giant truck to a stop just outside the third bay of garages and is quick to shut the vehicle off.

From where I’m standing, I watch as he pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head and turns his head to look out the passenger window, straight toward me.

Then he flashes a smile, and I can’t help but return it.

Quickly, he’s climbing down out of his lifted truck and is making his way around the front. I move to meet him, even as he goes to the passenger door to pull out a backpack.

“How was your traveling? Okay? Not a bad layover?” I ask, even though I’m not really that great at small talk.

It makes things awkward.

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to care.

“Long. Boring. Not a bad layover. Long enough to get real coffee.” He shoulders his backpack and shuts the door. “How are you?” I watch his eyes drop over me once and even though I know he knows I’m pregnant, I’m expecting him to stare and balk at my belly. The baby did some rearranging the last few days and he’s more obvious this weekend, compared to last. I stop myself from unfolding my arms and placing my hands protectively over the bump.

“I’m good. I was busy this morning.” I shrug, as if being busy is absolutely normal for a single girl in the middle of nowhere in an extra-large house.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He actually looks concerned and I can’t help but smile.

“Nope. Nothing on my agenda. I had a midwife appointment for this guy,” I say, my hands finally moving to my stomach, “the other day. When I had my major meltdown. I’m sorry about that.” I watch as Cade moves closer and I have to force myself to stay in my spot. “But that’s the extent of my engagements,” I manage to add as he nears.

“No need to apologize. I get it.”

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