Page 32 of Hollywood Comes Home

Slowly, she leaned back, lightly gripping my forearms as she peered up into my eyes. “Chance.”

I nodded. “I know, Jen, I know.”

Shaking her head, she exhaled. “You have got to get your life together because this,” she released my arms, gesturing with a wave of her hand, “is not you.”

Before I could respond, Ian entered the room, holding Dylan in his arms. Dylan’s eyes were large as he investigated me. Holding my hands out, I grinned, causing him to smile in return as he reached for me. I wasn’t sure if he’d even remember me but he either did or was just a happy kid with everyone these days.

“Good. Break uncle Chance’s arms now.” Ian chuckled, kissing Jenna before pouring himself a cup of coffee. “You want me to get you one, Hollywood?”

“Sure.” I bounced Dylan on my knee, playfully twisting my tongue into a curl with silly eyes, trying to get him to mimic me.

He only laughed hysterically, squealing until he choked. Jenna set a plate down on my placemat before she and Ian took a seat; him next to me at the head, Jenna across from me.

“You can put him in his highchair, you know.” Ian took a sip of his coffee.

Shaking my head, I laughed. “I really have missed this little guy. I don’t mind holding him while I eat.”

“Good luck with that.” Ian smirked, taking a bite of his eggs.

Picking up a piece of bacon, I placed it up to my mouth when a small pair of hands reached up, snatching half the slice. I glanced down at Dylan, whose mouth was hanging open with bacon and a string of drool hovering over my lap. Cringing, I laid it back on my plate.

“Are you going to wipe his mouth?” Jenna snorted.

“When did he get to be so grabby and advanced?” I wiped his mouth, my lip curled in disgust.

“Chance, he’s a one-year-old. You’ve been gone almost five months.” Ian shook his head, smiling at his son with a proud fatherly gaze before standing, taking Dylan into his arms.

He buckled him into his highchair then placed a bib around his neck. It was black with white letters that read,Sorry Ladies, my Daddy’s Taken. I laughed to myself while Ian dug what was left of the bacon from his clenched fist.

He shrieked in protest. “No, daddy! No! No!”

Covering my mouth, I fought back laughter. Something about watching Ian, of all people, dueling for a slobber-covered slice of bacon from his child, was hysterical. Jenna watched, hiding her laughter as well.

“Jen fed him breakfast already so he can have one of these.” Pulling a plastic bag out of his pocket, he placed a hard, brown biscotti shaped object on his tray.

Dylan immediately grabbed it and brought it to his mouth, gnawing on it before creasing his forehead at the food.

“You gave him a pocket snack like the dog trainers in pet stores.” I snorted.

“No, it’s kinda like a teething biscuit, but with more nutrients.” Ian rolled his eyes as he returned to his chair. “He’s got a mouth full of teeth, but he loves them.”

Jenna was buried in her phone, franticly tapping on the screen. I glanced at Ian, who darted his eyes toward her before stabbing a chunk of pancake on his plate.

My heart sunk into the pit of my stomach, and I was no longer hungry. Twisting my fork around on my plate, I watched her in silence. I opened my mouth to speak, but Ian cleared his throat, yanking me out of my concentration.

“So, I was thinking you might want to see the progress on the new warehouse.”

Peeling my eyes off Jenna’s hands, I turned to Ian, nodding with a partial smile. “Sure.”

Sliding his plate a few inches back, he clasped his hands together and propped his elbows on the table, eyes on Jenna. “Baby.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. She stopped thumbing the screen and was now only focused on reading.

“Is Amber okay?”

“Oh,” she set her phone on the table, sheepishly glancing back and forth between us. “Yeah, but she’s going to be coming home Thursday in time for her shift.”

Ian gnawed the inside of his cheek, his eyes averting to the corner of the ceiling.

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