Dylan's Daddy Dilemma (The Colorado Fosters Book 04)

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Dylan's Daddy Dilemma (The Colorado Fosters Book 04) Page 7

by Tracy Madison


  Oh, jeez. What to do? She didn’t want to give in—not at all—but the thought of disappointing Henry combined with the logic of Dylan’s first offer and the wisdom of his second forced her hand. And it would be so much easier to have a ride to the motel.

  “I guess I can live with that,” she said. “As long as you don’t mind playing chauffeur.”

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I minded.”

  “And that’s what I don’t understand.”

  “What is it you don’t understand?”

  “I... It’s just that you keep...” Overwhelmed, she closed her mouth and dropped her gaze to the floor. “I don’t understand why you’re so kind to someone you don’t know.”

  “It’s called lending a helping hand. You’re right, we’ve barely met, but one thing has already become crystal clear,” he said, speaking softly. “You question kindness, seemingly at every turn. How is it you’ve had such bad luck that you can’t trust in basic human goodness?”

  “How is it that you’ve had such good luck that you can?” The question flew from her mouth, unbidden, and she wished—oh, how she wished—that she could take it back. She felt visible. Vulnerable. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  “I think it does. I think you’ve been taught that trusting in kindness is a mistake.”

  One long step and he stood in front of her. Close. So close she could lean into him, into his strength, if she so chose. Of course, she didn’t. The thought was...entirely unreasonable. Besides which, he was wrong. Kindness had nothing to do with her ability to trust.

  She just didn’t trust, period.

  “Maybe I’m just smart,” she said. “Maybe what I’ve learned is that too many people only care for themselves and what they can get out of any given situation.”

  He winced slightly, and she wondered if there was a story there, behind that wince.

  “I’m sorry for that, for whatever brought you to that conclusion, and it’s always smart to be aware,” Dylan said. “But I’d like to believe that most people are honestly kind, because most people know that they can’t do everything on their own. You gotta know that, too.”

  Oh, she did. But she was too afraid of all the potential fallouts to not do everything on her own. And this was not a topic she was prepared to discuss. Ever, really. Particularly now, when her world lay crumbled at her feet and she had zero stability.

  Raising her chin a stubborn notch, she said, “If we’re going to Haley’s, we need to do so now. Otherwise, I’m taking Henry and finding a motel. On my own.”

  “Sure,” he said easily. Another long, intense look passed between them. “You’ll have to meet my family first, as they’re with Henry at the moment and they’ll want to say hi. It’s nothing to worry about, and we’ll be in and out lightning fast.”

  No, no, no. Meeting more Fosters was not on her agenda. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do I have to meet them, and why do they care if they meet me?” she asked, speaking slowly and purposefully. “I’m no one to them.”

  “Ah...because that’s how my family is, and I wouldn’t say you’re no one. They’ve met your son. They know you stayed the night here and that you’re new to Steamboat Springs. Why wouldn’t they want to meet you?” Every inch of his body, from his long legs to the straight, even line of his shoulders, tensed. “They’re interested and curious. That’s all there is to it.”

  Oh, she was pretty sure there was something more to it, but she couldn’t say what. And arguing would only slow her down, whether she won the argument or not. “Fine,” she said, choosing the path of least resistance. “So long as it’s fast. I mean it, Dylan.”

  “Fifteen minutes, Chelsea,” Dylan said with an easy smile. “And we’ll be out of here.”

  Relieved, she nodded and forced her legs to carry her forward. None of this seemed real. Or sane. Because, despite Dylan’s assurances to the contrary, most people did not put themselves out to help strangers. Oh, they might offer their bus seat to an elderly person, or give directions to someone who was lost, or any number of less disruptive acts of kindness.

  But everything that had transpired since Dylan had found her in her car last night seemed more than the typical. Kind, yes. Helpful, without a doubt. And she was appreciative.

  She just couldn’t stop herself from wondering and, okay, worrying if there was more to Dylan Foster and his ready-to-lend-a-hand attitude than met the eye. What was his motivation, because he had to have one, didn’t he? Well...unless he was one of those men who couldn’t resist fixing other people’s problems. Maybe. She didn’t like the notion, for many reasons, but the explanation worked well enough to settle her concerns.

  Because if that was the type of man he was, he’d move on to the next problem he came across soon enough. Probably within a week, unless she went out of her way to track him down or accidentally bumped into him somewhere, Dylan Foster would’ve vanished from her life.

  And that was fine.

  Or...that should be fine. Rather, the thought left her feeling distinctly let down.

  * * *

  Thankfully, Dylan’s family had been on their best behavior when they met Chelsea. All of them—even Reid—had stuck to the normal, obvious type of questions folks asked when first getting to know someone. This was likely due to Henry’s presence, but Dylan didn’t care why. He was just pleased they’d gotten in and out as quickly as he’d promised Chelsea they would.

  Relieved, too, even if that relief was short-lived. No doubt his brothers were already compiling a list detailing what they wanted to know about Chelsea and why Dylan had taken her under his wing so damn fast. But that was to be dealt with later.

  Within fifteen minutes, he’d had Chelsea and Henry in his car and they were following Haley toward her and Gavin’s refurbished farmhouse. Their home, and therefore the camp, was located near the top end of a long, windy, uphill road with plenty of acreage and solitude.

  For close to a year and a half, the entire Foster crew had worked to get the house and the land ready for the camp’s opening this past October. In that time, Dylan had grown close enough to Gavin to consider him a friend, and he guessed soon enough he’d be able to call him a brother, as well. Gavin was a solid, dependable, goal-oriented man who was, in many ways, a complete opposite from Haley and her fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants approach to life.

  Strange as it might sound, they were a good match.

  Now the two men were sitting on the farmhouse’s wide enclosed back porch, enjoying mugs of strong black coffee, watching as Haley expertly demonstrated how to raise a tent to an avid audience of three: Henry, Chelsea and the camp’s mascot, a pooch of unknown origins named Roxie. Chelsea and Henry were paying close attention as Haley spoke, but the dog seemed more interested in running in excited circles around the group. Every now and then, she’d stop and playfully butt her head against Henry’s legs.

  “Everything going well with you guys?” Dylan asked Gavin, more to fill the silence than anything else. If there was trouble in paradise, he’d already know about it.

  “Yeah, it is. Life is good.”

  And that was another aspect of Gavin’s personality that Dylan enjoyed: he didn’t mince words or overly explain. “I’m glad. It’s nice to see Haley as happy as she is. So...ah, how quickly did you know she was someone to pay attention to?”

  Damn. Where had that question come from?

  “I don’t know that I had much choice but to pay attention.” Shifting in his seat, Gavin switched his focus to Dylan. “You know how your sister is when she sets her sights on something. She isn’t an easy person to ignore. She was rather focused on being seen.”

  “That’s my sister. My parents should have named her Haley Tenacious Foster.”

  “Yup. Though I’d say she comes by the trait naturally. Didn’t take me long to figure that one out.” Gavin tapped his coffee mug with his thumb. “Tenacious, determined, stubborn as the day is long. I’d say that describes the enti
re Foster family to a T.”

  “The rest of them, maybe. Me? I tend to be on the more laid-back side.”

  Gavin laughed. A rough, tough, gravelly type of a sound that completely matched his six-foot-five height and linebacker build. “Laid-back? Nah. Hate to tell you this, my friend, but that word isn’t even in the dictionary as far as you’re concerned.”

  Surprised and somewhat ill at ease, Dylan sat up straighter. “What are you talking about? I’m about as laid-back as you can get. I think you’re confusing me with my brothers.”

  “You can think what you want, and you put on a pretty good show.” Gavin laughed again, louder this time, as if he’d just heard the greatest joke ever told. “But as good as you are at pretending, it’s still nothing but a show.”

  “In what way?”

  The other man blinked. “Seriously? You’re sure you want me to go into this?”

  “I have no idea what you mean. So yeah, seriously.”

  “Okay.” Gavin glanced toward the women and Henry and, seeing they were only about halfway through the raising-a-tent lesson, nodded. “Back when I was a kid and stuck in the foster-care system, the only way to feel like life hadn’t handed you a full basket of rotten, stinking eggs was to put on an I-don’t-care attitude. Life is great. I’m great. Don’t want a damn thing I don’t already have.” Shrugging, Gavin finished off his coffee and set the mug on the porch’s wood-planked floor. “You remind me of those days. Of myself and the other boys.”

  Dylan didn’t respond right off. Couldn’t for a few different reasons. One, he had never heard so many words come from Gavin’s mouth so quickly. Two, while the other man’s interpretation didn’t offend him, he found it troubling. Wrong, though.

  “I know you had it tough growing up.” Swallowing down the rest of his coffee, Dylan chose his next words carefully. “And I can’t imagine what it took to get through those years, but my life in no way compares to what you had to deal with.”

  “True enough.” Gavin rubbed his hand over his short, trimmed beard. “This is getting deep, and hell, this isn’t my business. But...”

  “But?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think you’re this unhappy guy or anything. You’re aware of what’s good in your life. I just think...” Pausing, Gavin gave his head a slight shake. “You know, when I met Haley, I had all these self-constructed barriers in place. Last thing I wanted was to let any of them drop or admit I wanted more. Safer that way, even though I knew the whole damn time I was only kidding myself. I did want more, but going there meant risking the safe, sane life I’d finally put together. And it could be that you’re not ready to hear this, but I sort of think that’s where you’re at. Where you’ve been for a while.”

  Dylan let Gavin’s words settle for a minute, maybe two, before he shook his head in rejection of the whole damn concept. “You’re thinking too much,” he said. “I’m an open book. What you see is what you get, and I’m not pretending I’m happy. I actually am happy.”

  “Yeah, well, took me a while to face the truth. Took me longer to do something about it.” Then, saving both men from the protracted, uncomfortable moment that was sure to follow such a speech, he flashed an easy grin and said, “I could use more coffee right about now. You?”

  “Sure. Another jolt of caffeine would be great.” He’d use the opportunity to check in with Reid about the possible job opening at the pediatrician’s office. He hoped that one came through, because Cole had already sent him a text stating that Dee’s Deli was no longer in need of another employee. “After that, though, we’ll have to head out. Chelsea needs to find a job quick-like.”

  If the doctor’s office fell through and none of his family had sniffed out any new leads, Dylan might have to do something crazy and...well, he didn’t know what he’d do, exactly.

  “About that,” Gavin said, leading them inside and straight into the large open kitchen. “Haley called on the way here to share what’s going on, and we had an idea that might work for Chelsea and would solve a temporary problem for us. It’s probably not a permanent fix, but if she agrees and it all pans out, it would give her some breathing room.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Interest piqued, Dylan handed Gavin his empty coffee cup and leaned against one of the kitchen counters. “Why didn’t Haley mention this suggestion earlier?”

  “A couple of reasons. The main one is she wanted to talk with me, get my take, which shows you how far she’s come. In the past, she would’ve listened to her heart without considering anything else, jumped right in and let the chips fall wherever they landed.”

  “Yup, that sounds like Haley.”

  Gavin poured them each a fresh cup of coffee. After handing Dylan his mug, he said, “And I suppose the fact that I didn’t instantly consider a million ways the idea could go wrong shows how far I’ve come. Regardless, I think her plan has enough merit to consider.”

  “I could use a plan with merit,” Dylan said. Maybe luck was with him and Chelsea’s problems would be solved today, after all. If so, she’d be set and he’d be able to...what? Forget he ever met her? Yeah. That. “And I’m definitely intrigued. Tell me what you have in mind.”

  “Can’t. Not yet.” Gavin nodded toward the window. “Some of what led to this idea was meant to be a surprise, and it’s Haley’s call how much we give away. Best if we wait for her so I’m not stuck sleeping on the couch. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

  Not much of a heads-up, but Dylan didn’t object. His thoughts returned to his earlier conversation with Gavin and his...theories, he guessed he’d call them. Wrong. Dead wrong, all of them. Dylan not only enjoyed his uncomplicated life, he friggin’ treasured it. He wasn’t faking a damn thing. He didn’t want anything he didn’t have.

  Without so much as a millisecond’s pause after that thought, he cocked his head toward the window, stared out and his eyes instantly found Chelsea. She was smiling at Henry, who had gotten into a tug-of-war with the dog over a stick. Again, the sight of her and the boy warmed his heart, softened his defenses, and out of nowhere, all sorts of possibilities rammed into his brain.

  Perhaps—and he’d have to give this a helluva lot more thought—he did want more, at that. But even if he came to that conclusion, that didn’t necessarily equate to Chelsea being the solution or that going after more was worth the inherent risk.

  It likely wasn’t. Almost certainly was not. But what if...just what if it was?

  Chapter Six

  “I want to go camping now!” Henry exclaimed, his little body vibrating with excitement. “We know how to build a tent and we can have a campfire and toast marshmallows and sleep in bags on the ground and look up at the stars and make wishes. Can we do that, Mommy? Please?”

  “Um...sure. Someday, we can,” Chelsea said. While the past thirty minutes had been pleasant enough, her thoughts weren’t centered on camping with her son. The pressure to locate some solid footing kept her from fully enjoying herself. “Not today, of course. It’s far too cold out here for camping. Maybe this summer, though.”

  Henry frowned and stubbed his sneaker-covered toe into the snow. “I know what maybe and someday means. We prolly won’t go camping this summer or ever.”

  “Hey, I didn’t say that, sweetie.” Chelsea pulled her son close for a hug. “How about this? I promise we’ll go camping sometime this summer.”

  “Really?” he asked, his face buried against her coat. “You promise?”

  “I’ll even cross my heart.” He looked up to meet her gaze with his. She smiled and his blue eyes regained their brightness, and his expression of pure joy meant everything in the world to her.

  “Don’t forget the marshmallows!”

  “Camping wouldn’t be camping without marshmallows,” Haley said. She patted the dog, Roxie, on the head and nodded toward the house. “Let’s go inside and warm up. There’s something me and Gavin would like to talk over with you, Chelsea.”

  “Oh, is this about watching Henry? Because I’m
fine with the idea now.” Obviously, Haley was good with kids, just as Dylan had said, and Henry hadn’t had such a carefree experience in too long a while. She wouldn’t insist he come with her for a no-fun day when he could stay here and be a kid. “If you’re still willing to watch him, that is.”

  “Of course I’m willing! But there’s something else I’d like to discuss.” Haley twisted a long strand of hair around one gloved finger. “Come inside, and I’ll get a snack for Henry and we can sit in front of the fire. And I’ll explain what I’m thinking.”

  Chelsea pushed up her coat sleeve to glance at her watch. “I’m sorry. I really can’t.”

  “Aw, come on. You can spare a few extra minutes for the gracious, lovely young woman who’s babysitting Henry, can’t you?”

  If it weren’t for the lighthearted manner in which Haley had spoken, Chelsea would’ve taken offense. Teasing or not, though, Haley had put her straight in front of a roadblock. She couldn’t refuse Haley any easier than she’d managed to refuse Dylan. “Of course I can,” she said after a moment’s pause. “Sitting in front of the fire sounds nice.”

  “Smart, giving in so fast,” Haley said, her lips quirking into a grin. “You wouldn’t know this yet, but I tend to get my way when something is important.”

  Curious and confused—another state of affairs that seemed to occur on a regular basis with the Fosters—she reached for Henry’s mitten-covered hand and followed Haley toward the house, all the while trying to keep her anxiety at bay. Difficult to do, though.

  Chelsea could almost feel the clock’s hands ticking away, and as each second passed, her hope for accomplishing any of what she had to do that day diminished. She should have put her foot down with Dylan to begin with, politely, and gone on her way as planned.

 

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