She left him there in the living room, casually fleeing to the kitchen, where she felt safe.
Dylan had a way of turning things upside down on her. She’d been making a joke, admittedly a poor one, and he’d seen right through her. The heart of her concern, her insecurity, had been obvious to him and he’d called her on it.
There was something to be said about that kind of honesty. Dylan was a man that wasn’t afraid to say, this is why I like you. He’d laid out x, y, and z, as if he were teaching her a lesson in school. And it had made sense.
Right up until it didn’t.
He kept pushing this idea that she was so selfless for carrying Beth and Logan’s baby. She’d tried to explain to him before, something she hadn’t admitted to anyone, that she wasn’t doing it to be selfless.
Yes, she loved her sister.
Yes, she wanted her sister to have a baby and feel whole again.
Yes, she was making a sacrifice.
But it was self-serving. She wasn’t just doing it for Beth. She was doing it for herself. To prove to herself that she had the capacity to do something kind.
Every time Dylan looked at her like she was Mother Theresa, she wanted to cringe in shame.
She wasn’t the woman he thought she was.
She pulled out some ingredients and got to work, maybe jabbing the button on the blender harder than she would have liked. Crepes were quick but precise, and the repetition of making them soothed her frayed nerves.
There was no need to freak out over why Dylan was with her. They were so different, the chances of them turning into anything lasting was slim. Besides, she’d be growing bigger as the weeks went on and he’d lose interest, she was sure. And that would be fine, she told herself. She’d get to say she had a short and fun hookup with a billionaire and they’d all move on.
She stirred the strawberries she’d sliced, working the sauce as another crepe cooked.
Frustrated, she blew out a breath and then reworked the problem in her mind.
Maybe, just maybe, she was overreacting to the whole damn thing because she was a crazy pregnant lady that had no self-control. Maybe Dylan really didn’t care about their differences and what they did have would be enough.
Enough for what, she didn’t know yet. Beyond September, when she gave birth, the future looked murky. September was her end goal for now, nothing beyond that mattering much.
Plate stacked high with crepes, she carried it toward the living room.
“Breakfast is ready if you’re interested,” she said, making sure he could hear the smile in her voice. “Unless you’re interested in something else first. I’m sure we—”
She stopped short when she turned the corner and found him on the phone, his finger up as he gave her the wait one minute sign. He was dressed in just his jeans, his lightly tanned skin glowing in the morning sunlight.
Oops.
Alex uneasily retreated a few steps and sat at the table, waiting for him.
She looked at the crepes before her, thinking about her morning, her nerves and fear.
Maybe she wasn’t hungry, after all.
Lexi hightailed it off the couch and out of the living room, under the guise of cooking breakfast.
Dylan was glad she’d gone because he’d been on the verge of yelling. Loudly.
Did she really think so little of him? To think that he was treating what was between them as nothing more than a game? Something to pass the time or check off his bucket list? He could see the answer in her eyes, even if she’d told him differently.
He couldn’t imagine anything he’d done to give her that idea. He’d been very careful to make sure his money never entered the picture between them, and that his family influence stayed far away from what they had.
He hadn’t taken her anywhere they would run into anyone that lived in the same circle as his family and their friends.
He got up, shoving his legs into his jeans.
Maybe he hadn’t done anything to give her the idea that he thought what they had was just something to say he’d done, but he supposed he hadn’t done anything to give her the idea that it wasn’t. Maybe it was something she needed to be proven or said outright before she’d believe it.
His phone rang and he rummaged through their discarded clothes on the floor to find it.
It was his mother.
“Hi Mom.”
“Dylan,” she replied, her voice a soft coo. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“I know,” he said regretfully. “I meant to come to the club for lunch today but I ended up making other plans.”
“Other plans?” she asked wryly. “Tell me, do these other plans involve the woman you’ve been seeing?”
Dylan held himself still as he looked out the living room window, overlooking the harbor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I heard from the friend of a friend of a friend that there’s a lovely young woman you’ve been seeing. It would have been nice to hear it from you, but I can’t say I’m surprised. What’s she now? A chef of some kind.”
“Mom,” Dylan warned.
She knew he liked to keep his private life private. Sure, he’d gone to public events with women that he knew, but none he’d been in a relationship with. People who had to attend those kinds of events knew the score and knew the crowd; they could take the fanfare and criticism in stride. He’d never take Lexi to that kind of function. They’d try to eat her alive and there was no telling how she’d retaliate.
If he told his mother about Lexi, she’d invite her to some luncheon or function, and it would be all downhill from there.
“If there’s someone in your life you care about, shouldn’t they meet your parents?”
“We’re just getting to know each other. Why would I subject her to that kind of scrutiny?”
“And what kind of scrutiny is that?” Her voice was hard and Dylan knew he’d offended her.
He hadn’t meant to and maybe he was going overboard.
“What I mean is, sometimes you and Dad tend to be overwhelming. Wait—” he said when she went to interrupt. “Not in a malicious way, but you can be intimidating. Your lifestyle can be intimidating. I’m used to it, so it doesn’t faze me, but some people aren’t ready to get into a relationship with someone whose parents eat off silverware from Tiffany’s and drive a Rolls Royce.”
“In our defense, neither of us drive the Rolls.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t help,” he told her. “I told you before, I’m done trying to marry someone you guys set me up with. They’re always nice women, but they bore the hell out of me. Not to mention, they’re more interested in the contents of my portfolio than me. I finally met someone I like and I want to make sure I know where she and I stand, before she meets you and Dad.”
“We’re nice people, Dylan. Reasonable and kind. We give to charity.”
As if that said it all.
“You’re missing the point here, Mom.”
“It sounds an awful lot like you’re embarrassed by us.”
“That’s not it at all,” he reasoned. “I love you both, you know that. And I’m proud of where I come from. I just…” he trailed off. “She’s a keeper, Mom. She’s got heart and wit and charms the hell out of me. But she also has a lot of pride. Money is a big deal in relationships, you know that as much as I do. Let me make sure she’s comfortable with that before I get you two involved.”
“Breakfast is ready if you’re interested. Unless you’re interested in something else first. I’m sure we—” Lexi’s voice called as she bounced into the living room, a heaping pile of crepes in her hand. She stopped short when he held up his finger, hoping to silence her, but it was too late. Her eyes widened and with a nod, she backed out of the room.
“Was that her?” His mother’s excitement nearly quivered through the phone. “She’s there at nine on a Sunday morning?”
“I’ve got to go, Mom. We can talk later.”
&n
bsp; “Seems like we’ll have a lot to talk about.”
Yes. Indeed, it did.
When Alex returned to her house after teaching on Thursday afternoon, Beth was waiting on her doorstep.
Her sister looked nervous, hands shoved into the back pocket of her jeans as Alex got out of the car and approached.
“Hey,” Alex said, unlocking the door and letting them both in. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Beth said quietly.
“Okay,” Alex told her. “Mind if we do it in the kitchen? I have a few other things I need to get ready for tomorrow’s Bean order.”
“As if I’d expect you to talk anywhere else.” Beth smiled, but it was pale in comparison to what her real smile looked like.
Alex flipped the oven on to preheat and took out the half-made shortbread cookies that were awaiting their Easter decorations as Beth took a seat at the counter. Alex grabbed her icing and piping bags, ready to decorate all one hundred cookies. Before starting, she slid a bagged treat over to her sister. It was a piece of lemon-poppy bread, a chocolate bunny shape baked into the middle.
“How did you do that?” Beth asked, inspecting the bread before taking a bite.
Alex shrugged. “Magic.”
“How’re you feeling?”
“Pretty good,” Alex answered, creating a lacy pattern on a square cookie. “Getting fat, that’s for sure, so baby bambino Hallowell is growing. No movement yet, but I’m waiting for it.” She looked up at her sister. “You already know all of this. Are you just double-checking or is this your way of making conversation?”
“Making conversation,” Beth admitted quickly.
“And why are we working so hard to make conversation?”
“Because I’ve been a lunatic for the last three months and have treated you like crap.”
Alex laughed, working on another cookie with little, edible, silver beads. “You’re nervous and scared. I get it.”
Beth took a deep breath. “But being nervous and scared shouldn’t come at the expense of my sister. I feel like now that you are pregnant, we’re further apart than we’ve ever been relationship-wise. And that’s saying something, for you and me. We came a hell of a long way to get where we are and I worry that I ruined it.”
“By being nervous for your baby?”
“By not being a good enough sister.”
Alex snorted at the irony. Not being a good enough sister was exactly the reason she’d volunteered to have the baby in the first place. Now that she was having the baby, Beth wasn’t being a good enough sister.
“Well, this seems like a vicious cycle,” she commented, moving to another cookie shaped like a sweet, little duckling. “First, I’m a crap sister, now you’re a crap sister. When does Andy get a turn?”
Beth laughed but said, “I’m serious. I can’t have you carry my baby like some kind of human incubator and have our relationship fall apart. It’s me, I know, I’ve been a mess. Logan keeps telling me that I’m the one that’s being a bitch.”
“He did not say that,” Alex said knowingly. And if he did, she’d march over there immediately and knock his fake leg out from underneath him.
“Of course, he didn’t. He said it nicer than that because he loves me and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings—”
“And wants to keep getting laid.”
“That too,” Beth admitted, the mood lightening with every word spoken between them. “But he’s right. I’ve been so focused on the baby, the end result, that I haven’t enjoyed the process. In doing that, I let you and what you’re doing for me slip into the background.”
“Oh my God,” Alex huffed, rolling her eyes. “Can we stop with the big, selfless look what Alex is doing for her sister thing. Dylan talks about it all the time, like I’m some kind of saint and it’s driving me crazy. I don’ know him well enough yet to tell him to shut it, but I know you and you need to stop. I love you. I’m doing this thing. That’s it. No thanks needed.”
It was Beth’s turn to look annoyed. “Like that’s going to happen. I’ve already called the town about having you be Grand Marshall at the 4th of July parade and putting a historical town sign in front of your house, to mark your momentous and selfless act.”
“I will cut you,” Alex growled. “If one single word of that is true, you will wake up without your hair one morning.”
“None of it is true. I know you better than that. But that’s my point, Lex. I know you and I’ve let this process become a trial instead of an adventure. That’s on me and I wanted to apologize.”
Alex stood up straight, her eyes wide. She hurried to the calendar on the wall. “Quick, grab a pen. Let’s mark it down.”
“Anyone home?”
“In the kitchen! What are you doing out of work?”
Andy rounded the corner, a pleased look on her face.
“I got the afternoon off and thought I’d come see how the cookie decorating is going.”
“You came to see if I went through with apologizing,” Beth corrected.
Andy just smiled. “I knew you would.”
“Apology accepted and all that,” Alex told her sister. “And just know that I’m doing everything I can to make sure you have a healthy baby. I’d never do anything, purposely, to jeopardize that.”
“Glad I got here for the good part,” Andy said with a serene smile, breaking off a chunk of Beth’s bread and taking a bite. “Is there any more of this?”
“There might be,” Alex told her twin. “I might also have some amazing, purple croissants in the works for Easter this weekend.”
“Purple?” Beth asked, brows high.
“I made a blueberry compound butter and froze it. They’re going to be gorgeous.” She noticed her sisters looking around the kitchen. “I haven’t made them yet. I’ll do that Saturday, so they’re fresh.”
Andy sent her a smirk. “Oh, are you going to be around Saturday? It’s been so long since we’ve seen you on the weekends.”
She was fishing. Alex had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about the situation with Dylan, not even telling her sisters about what they had going on. Whatever that was.
“I worked last weekend,” Alex said, her argument weak.
“Didn’t call me once,” Andy accused. “Not even Sunday morning to come for breakfast.”
“I made breakfast at Dylan’s.”
“Again,” Beth tacked on. “He’s a nice enough guy. Logan likes him.”
“Logan likes everyone,” Alex said with a laugh.
“Spencer likes him,” Andy said, with finality. If Dylan had Spencer’s seal of approval, no one would argue it. Spencer hated everyone on principle.
“The last time you dated someone, I knew every single thing about him,” Andy accused. “More than I wanted to know, in fact. Now, you’re suddenly locked up tighter than Fort Knox.”
“What gives?” Beth asked.
Alex was never great with words. In fact, she tended to make things worse. But these were her sisters. If there was anyone she could be honest with, it was them. Even if they didn’t understand, they’d talk her through it.
“It just seems different, that’s all,” she tried to explain, still working on her cookies. “Like when we’re together, there’s this thing between us, kind of like a bubble, and all the us stuff, just floats around in there with us. It’s just…I don’t know. It’s something I’ve never really felt before. It feels private, even though it’s not any big state secret. It’s just ours to keep.”
Beth’s eyes were wide as she sat back. “Sounds like love.”
At Beth’s declaration, Alex’s hand squeezed the bag of frosting, creating a jagged blob across a poor bunny’s face. She was well into her cookie pile and nearly ready to put her bread loaves in the oven.
Andy nodded. “Have to agree, Alex. Sounds a heck of a lot like you’re falling in love with him.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous,” she argued. “I’ve only known him for a mont
h.”
“I knew the minute I saw Logan,” Beth said.
“That’s different. Besides, I’m way older than him.”
“So.” Andy laughed. “You’re far from ancient, Alex. The age difference isn’t that big.”
“I’m pregnant, for heaven’s sake. I can’t go around falling in love right now. I don’t have time for that.”
“You know that’s not how that works, right?” Andy asked gently. “That love doesn’t just do what you tell it to.”
“It will for me,” Alex insisted. “I’m focused on work and having a baby. Dylan is cool and fun; I like being with him, but it’s casual.”
“So, you’re both seeing other people?” Beth asked skeptically.
The very idea made her knees wobble. The thought of Dylan searching out other women while they were in their magical bubble was enough to make her eye twitch.
“Of course not.”
“So, you’re not casual,” Beth surmised.
“Why do we have to label everything?” Alex complained, moving on to another cookie. “I’m cool. He’s cool. We’re cool. It’s all good.”
Beth scoffed. “Denial much?”
“Do you smell something?” Andy asked, perking up and sniffing the air.
Now that she mentioned it, it did smell a little sooty. Like something was burning, but not necessarily fire.
“What is that?” Beth asked, hopping off her seat and picking around the kitchen, sniffing the air.
“The heat isn’t even on,” Alex said, not worried about a fire in the chimney. The only thing she had going was the oven. She glanced at the appliance, more curious than anything. Everything in her kitchen was in tip-top shape; she always made sure of that.
Without hesitating, she went to it and opened the door, only to have a huge ball of fire shoot out at her.
She screamed, as did both of her sisters who reacted quickly and pulled her back before she could get burned.
Delivering History (The Freehope Series Book 4) Page 13