The Marriage Solution

Home > Other > The Marriage Solution > Page 4
The Marriage Solution Page 4

by Megan Kelly


  While she’d rocked Lily, she had time to think. Recalling her early days of parenting Jimmy on her own helped put things in perspective. She needed to cut Dylan some slack.

  He sat at a desk with elaborate and mysterious computer components on it. Papers lay across half of the surface, some with detailed mechanical drawings she took to be computer hardware parts.

  He looked up as she neared. “She’s finally asleep?”

  “Yes. Worn down.” She glanced at the empty couch. “Where’s Jimmy? Don’t tell me he woke up.”

  “No. I put him in my bed about twenty minutes ago. I wasn’t sure if he’d roll off the couch. Thanks for settling Lily.” He sighed. “She’s been like this since before the funeral.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Tara massaged the tightness in the back of her neck.

  “It’s Lily who feels it most,” he said. “I hadn’t seen Rose in a long time.”

  She didn’t want to listen to him talk about his ex. The situation hit too close to home for her to be objective. Even though Dylan hadn’t known about his child, Tara had to wonder why Lily’s mother hadn’t contacted him about the baby. Had Rose sensed something about Dylan? Had she realized that his playboy ways wouldn’t translate well to fatherhood? Tara hadn’t chosen to raise Jimmy alone; the decision had been thrust upon her by default. Still, given that Jay had run off, he wouldn’t have provided Jimmy much value as a male role model.

  She turned to Dylan but couldn’t meet his gaze. The late hour, the quiet, and the dim lighting lent the air a loaded charge. Reminded her they were two adults, alone. Reminded her how attractive he was physically and how long it had been since she’d been with a man—a little over four years. No wonder Dylan affected her on a tummy-tingling level. “I should get Jimmy to his own bed.”

  “I suppose so,” Dylan said.

  “He’s a sound sleeper.” She heard herself babble to fill the silence. The silence that had become intimate and adult as Dylan rose to his feet, mere inches away. “I don’t want him having a hard day tomorrow.”

  “Tara.”

  She watched Dylan’s hand inch toward her and braced herself to react. He caressed her arm in what had to be a gesture of gratitude. She did not—would not—read anything more into it, no matter how his hand lingered, no matter how his gaze locked on hers, no matter how he seemed to be bending toward her. No matter how her throat went dry with anticipation.

  “Thank you,” he said in a low voice. “I can’t tell you what it means to me that you came.”

  “I came for Lily,” she reminded them both in a near whisper.

  “Of course.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.

  For just a second, she allowed the kiss to continue, enjoying it despite herself. He was only saying thanks, after all. There was nothing romantic in his kiss. Forcing herself to step back, she couldn’t deny the effect of his warm touch. She really must be deprived of…sleep.

  He perched against his desk, confirming her reading of his motive. Casual gratitude. She was an adult. She could handle an almost-impersonal kiss.

  “I’ll just get my jacket—”

  Lily’s cry cut off her words. Tara and Dylan rushed down the hall, stopping outside her door, hearing her sob. “I’ll go in,” Tara whispered.

  Dylan nodded, his mouth set in grim resignation, obviously realizing his presence wouldn’t help matters.

  Tara patted his arm in reassurance. This touching thing was contagious. “It’ll get easier once she gets used to being here.”

  He nodded and turned away.

  It took her another half hour to calm Lily, whose incoherent mumblings offered no clue as to how to help her. Tara dragged herself back to the living room, not surprised to see Dylan still at his desk.

  “Putting Jimmy in your bed was genius,” she said. “At least he’s getting a decent night’s sleep.”

  “That’s where you should be.”

  Tara nodded and covered a yawn, not quite paying attention. But realizing what he’d said and what she’d agreed to, she did a double take.

  He grinned. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Of course, I didn’t not mean it either. But for now, it’s after midnight. You should just lay down with Jimmy. Try to get some sleep.”

  “I should go home.” She glanced down the hallway. “I can’t promise Lily will stay asleep, though, and I hate the idea that she’d wake up and find me gone. It might remind her of her mother leaving her, in a sense.”

  “Stay. Jimmy will get his rest, and he’ll feel better if he wakes up and you’re beside him.”

  Another yawn attacked her. “Sorry. Looks like I could really use some sleep.”

  Not that lying in Dylan’s bed, surrounded by his things and his scent, turned out to be conducive to sleep. But eventually, sheer tiredness won out. Tara drifted off, her cheek against smooth percale, her lungs filled with citrus and evergreen, her mind on a seductive journey of its own.

  THE ONLY WARNING Tara had the next morning was the sound of running feet across the day care’s tile floor. Squatting in front of a lower bookcase, she started to turn.

  “Lily,” Dylan called.

  Lily tackled her in an exuberant hug. They both toppled to the floor.

  “Don’t knock down Miss Tara,” he finished.

  The girl withdrew her arms and scrambled away, stopping in a crouch a few feet to the right, her eyes wide and watchful.

  “I’m okay,” she assured the girl, despite the sharp ache in her elbow. “How about you? Are you okay?”

  Lily nodded.

  “Good. I’d hate to think I squashed you like modeling clay,” she said to make the girl giggle. “Your daddy worries about you.”

  Dylan shifted on his feet. “I just didn’t want her attacking you.”

  Tara mentally threw up her hands in defeat. She’d been trying to get Lily to see him as protective. But he had a point. Lily should learn restraint. “Attacking might be overstating, don’t you think?”

  “Fine.” He turned to Lily. “I’m sorry if I yelled, pumpkin. I was concerned you or Miss Tara might get hurt.”

  Tara rose and put out a hand to pull Lily up. After a moment’s hesitation, the girl grasped it and stood.

  “Looks like we mussed you up some,” Tara said. She pulled the girl’s sweater straight again. “And that hair. I must have tugged it. Can I fix it for you?”

  Dylan cleared his throat, looking rumpled himself. “It looked like that when we came in. She won’t let me near her with a brush.”

  “I figured as much, but I was going for tact.” She slid him a glance. “I’d hate to think that was your best effort.”

  “I did put a brush in her backpack.”

  Tara raised her eyebrows in question.

  “For my mom. I wasn’t going to rely on your good nature this morning.” He cleared his throat. “You snuck out pretty early. I didn’t even hear you.”

  Tara worked at releasing Lily’s ponytail from its rubber band without pulling. She hadn’t “snuck out” anywhere. She’d very quietly gone home with hardly a glance at Dylan asleep on his couch. Barely noticed his low-hanging jeans or sliding-up T-shirt, exposing tanned skin and curly dark hair low on his stomach. After a night dreaming of him, she’d been anxious to get home, back to her normal surroundings. “I open on Thursdays and I didn’t want to wake you that early. Jimmy and I had to change clothes.”

  To Lily, she said, “Get your brush from your bag, honey, and let’s get you tidied up before the other kids get here.”

  “Thank you,” Dylan said as Lily glided from the room.

  His words conjured the feel of his lips against hers. She had to get hold of her imagination. She might scorn his casual dating as a lifestyle, but the practice had made him one heck of a kisser. “Don’t mention it.”

  His phone vibrated, and he threw it an irritable look. “I didn’t realize how often this thing rings. When I had all the free time in the world, it wasn’t inconvenien
t.”

  “Another girlfriend?” Tara tried for sympathy but it came out as sarcasm instead.

  He flipped his phone back out and read the display. “A lady I date, yes. It’s hard to explain why I can’t go out or haven’t called.”

  She held her tongue. He was her boss’s son, after all.

  “I’ll be at home for a while this morning if you need to contact me.” He grimaced. “I was afraid to shower in case something happened and I wouldn’t hear Lily. I’m installing safety guards on the door and windows once I get home.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “After I woke this morning, all sorts of tragic scenarios made me crazy.” His gaze slid from hers. “I’m not at all prepared for fatherhood.”

  Tara placed a hand on his arm for a moment, moved against her will. “You’ll get there. One thing at a time. Safety guards are a good first step.”

  “Sorry. Don’t mean to complain.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “I guess I’m overwhelmed and overtired.”

  That made her grin. “Welcome to parenthood.”

  “This is awkward, but I’m wondering if you’d do me another favor. It’s really more of a favor for Lily.”

  “What is it?”

  “Could she stay over at your house tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow? I guess so. Why?”

  “I have a thing. I’d ask you to just watch her until it’s over, but it might be late. On the off-chance she falls asleep at your place, I’d hate to, you know, wake her up.”

  Tara stared at the color rising under his tan. He was going to go have sex. While she babysat.

  Why do you care? It irked her, that was all. He’d just gotten home with Lily. Couldn’t he put off his sexual urges? God knew Tara had, for far too long.

  “What ‘thing’ do you have to do?” she asked. “A business meeting? Will you be out of town?”

  “Oh, no. I’m not going to travel anytime in the near future. As a matter of fact, my mom even cancelled her trip to Europe.”

  Tara started. Betty had talked about her trip for months, and he’d let her cancel? “You’re kidding.”

  “She did it before we came back from Kansas. I didn’t ask her to, but I’m grateful she did.”

  “That’s very…giving of her.”

  “And selfish of me, right? Is that what you’re not saying?”

  She shrugged. “It’s none of my business.”

  “That’s true.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little testy and this is sure as heck no way to ask you for a favor.”

  She squared off to him, not quite toe to toe, but her stance didn’t miss the mark by much. “Try telling me the truth.”

  “I’m going to a wedding. I made the plans—okay, the date—before I found out about Lily. The lady I’m taking is a bridesmaid in the wedding. It would be awkward for her to go alone.”

  Tara crossed her arms. “And?”

  He sighed. “And it will be a relief for me to get a break.”

  That, she understood. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  He smiled. “Really? I figured that last admission would weigh against me.”

  She gave him a pitying look. “Dylan, all parents need a break every once in a while. I’m not surprised, with the level of trauma you’ve been dealing with this past week, that you’d like to get away.”

  “I owe you.”

  “Just bring her things to day care tomorrow morning and let me know when you’re planning to pick her up Saturday.” She had to laugh at the expression on his face. “You didn’t just win the lottery. It’s one night.”

  “You have no idea how relieved I am.” He leaned near.

  Tara jerked backward. “No PDA at the Wee Care.”

  He laughed and walked off, whistling.

  She’d just provided him with the opportunity to have sex. No wonder he was so happy. The question was, why was she so unhappy?

  DYLAN PROPPED HIS FEET on his coffee table late Friday night, pulling off his loosened tie. His condo was heavy with silence. He tilted the beer he held for a long drink, slouching lower into the couch.

  Eleven-thirty. Hopefully Tara had gotten Lily to sleep.

  He should be with Ann Marie, his date. She’d made it clear she’d welcome his company overnight. That had been his intention. He had the night free. No worries or responsibilities. No strings. Once in her apartment, Ann Marie had been persuasive, and he knew from their past she was an enthusiastic lover. He’d been more shocked than she had when he’d stopped halfway to her bedroom and said he had to go home.

  Barley and hops were no substitute for the taste of Ann Marie’s kisses in his mouth. He couldn’t believe he’d been such an idiot. Why had he rushed home? To what?

  Grabbing the remote, he figured he’d watch something on TV. An R-rated movie Lily shouldn’t walk in on. Or sports. He’d turn it as loud as he wanted, not having to worry about anyone sleeping—or crying—down the hall.

  Because no one was down the hall.

  He flicked off the remote and checked his watch. In a little over seven hours he could pick up Lily, see if she’d slept at all. Tara would probably be glad to get the extra child off her hands. She’d probably take a nap…. Dylan squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t need that image in his head.

  The TV came back on at his touch. His premium cable movie station was showing a black-and-white version of Heidi. Heidi? Seriously? Flick. A rerun of Little House on the Prairie. Flick. Full House. Flick. Finally, a baseball game. Or, no, a review of the homerun race from over a decade past. Dylan watched as Mark McGwire hit number 60, then 61, then 62. The slugger crossed the plate—and with a huge grin, raised his son in his arms.

  Dylan turned off the TV. Even sports couldn’t take his mind off Lily.

  When morning came, he was dressed and ready to go long before necessary. A predawn run then a trip to the Piggly Wiggly meant he beat the usual Saturday morning grocery shoppers home.

  At 7:30 a.m., he tapped his shoe against Tara’s door, hands full of doughnuts, milk and coffee. His eagerness to have the door opened made him shift his shoulders, as though he still wore the button-down Oxford and tie from the evening before instead of a T-shirt. He put it down to anxiety over Lily.

  Then Tara opened the door wearing a robe and carrying the tantalizing image of lazy mornings spent under the covers, and he knew what had driven him from his bed.

  This was so not good.

  “I didn’t expect you this early.” Tara pushed open the screen door, letting him in.

  Dylan handed her the box of doughnuts. “Is Lily up yet? Or maybe I should ask if she slept.”

  “She slept.” Tara set the box on her small dinette table and turned without flipping open the box. “How was your night?”

  He couldn’t decipher her expression, but something lay beneath her words. Maybe Lily had been a handful after all, and he had to take the brunt of Tara’s frustration.

  “It was nice.” No way would he admit it had ended so early. He’d appear ungrateful if he admitted he’d been back home before midnight, the evening a failure. He pulled out his wallet to pay her. “Thanks again for watching Lily. Did she give you any trouble?”

  “Not a bit.” Tara grimaced but shoved the handful of bills in her robe pocket without looking at them. “She had dinner, we watched a movie and both kids were in bed by nine.”

  Dylan was agog. “She fell asleep before nine?”

  Unheard of. He wanted to be happy about it—was happy, on some level—but Lily behaving so well for a stranger only emphasized his ineptitude. And her animosity for him. It just plain hurt, dammit.

  He cleared his throat. “Great.”

  “I’ll get her,” Tara said. “I think I heard her stirring. But Dylan, even though she was no problem, I don’t want to get into the habit of babysitting for you. I’m around children all day for a living. I want to dedicate my home time to Jimmy.”

  “Of course. Sure. That makes sense.” He felt as though someone
had pushed his life raft farther away from shore—and he’d caught a tide.

  Buck up. He and Lily would come to some understanding. Eventually. “Thanks for last night. Like I said, I’d had that date arranged for a while, before I knew about Lily. I didn’t want to make my friend go alone, it being last minute and all. That can be awkward.”

  Tara crossed her arms. “I’m sure she was appreciative.”

  “I don’t know about that. I had to explain about Lily and why I wouldn’t be calling her for a while. And why I was going home early.”

  Now why had he added that?

  “You…? Oh.” She tucked a silky blond strand of hair behind her ear, then gestured to the box. “Would you like some coffee or milk? Since you brought both.”

  “I’ve already had two cups of coffee this morning, but a doughnut sounds good.”

  “I’ll get the children.” Tara fled down the hall, the swing of her yellow terry-cloth robe making him speculate about the garments—or lack thereof—underneath.

  This was so not good.

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Dylan shifted fast-food bags in his arms, trying to turn the doorknob at his brother’s house without dropping anything. Only after getting a good grip and being unsuccessful did he realize the door was locked. Strange. The kids banged in and out of the house so often that Adam and Anne rarely locked it during the day. Of course, a new babysitter would be more cautious.

  The June temperature had dropped to the high seventies, kissing the air with the promise of a summer storm. If he didn’t have food bags to juggle, he’d roam around to the backyard where someone was sure to be playing while the skies stayed clear.

  “It’s locked,” he said unnecessarily to Lily. Talking to her felt like talking to himself, since she seldom answered. Still, he tried, figuring she’d have to get used to him. She glanced in his direction but looked away when he tried to make eye contact. He poked the doorbell, praying he wouldn’t wake up the baby.

  The door swung open.

 

‹ Prev