Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SLEEPOVER
DYLAN
“This was delicious, Dylan. Thank you. Best chicken noodle soup we’ve ever had. Right, Chloe?” Dahlia smiles down at Chloe, who’s slurping a noodle.
Chloe nods, her curls bobbing. She’s so entertaining, I don’t know how Dahlia gets anything done with her around because everything about her is fun.
I push my hair out of my eyes, and Chloe watches like she’s curious about me too.
Dahlia wipes Chloe’s mouth when she’s done eating, and Chloe climbs out of Dahlia’s lap.
We watch as she toddles across the sun-drenched living room, her steps slapping against the hardwood, one hand clutching that little stuffed monkey like he’s helping her balance.
My house feels different just having them in it.
A place where magic happens in slow motion, where a two-and-a-half-year-old elf with curls and a runny nose has claimed my heart in the span of several hours.
I realize that’s nuts, but that’s why I’m calling it magic.
Chloe is still flushed, but her eyes look brighter now that the antibiotics are kicking in. She gets something out of her bag and brings it over, beaming up at me with her gap-toothed smile. She thrusts a tiny purple ponytail holder in my face.
“I give you princess hair?” she asks.
I’d let her tattoo me if she asked.
I bow my head like I’m being knighted. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Dahlia and Chloe both giggle, sounding so similar, except Chloe’s is much higher.
When I glance at Dahlia, I see the place on her neck where I sucked early this morning. She catches me staring and her lips part, just enough to let the air between us crackle.
Chloe puts her hands in my hair, yanking strands as she tries to get it all out of my eyes.
Her tongue is out on one side as she concentrates.
She’s so stinkin’ cute. When she finally gets the holder where she wants it, my hair still flops into my eyes, but it’s contained in the holder, which satisfies her.
Next, she produces a glittery clip shaped like a star and puts it on my other side. The clip holds the hair back better than the ponytail holder.
I glance at Dahlia, who’s trying not to laugh, and she says, “So pretty. You’re in deep now.”
“Worth it,” I say.
And she’s right, I am in deep. One minute, we were tearing each other’s clothes off, and the next, we were whispering curses when we realized her last name is Granger and mine is Whitman. We’ve decided to fuck the feud, fuck the risk, and to fuck each other, at least for now.
“Mama, yook. Dyyan’s a princess!”
Dahlia laughs. “Yes, he is.” Her eyes are bright when she looks at me. “She doesn’t normally warm up this fast to strangers,” she whispers.
“She must be able to tell that we’re all friends.” I smile down at Chloe, and she lifts her arms out for me to pick her up.
My eyes meet Dahlia’s in surprise over Chloe’s head as I lift her and set her on my lap.
She yawns and leans her head against my chest. I wrap an arm around her and sigh in contentment.
Wow. This is unbelievably sweet. It’s hard not to judge Christian right now.
I usually pride myself on not being a judgmental prick, but I can’t claim that right now.
Because how could her dad live across the country from her? Doesn’t he want to be with her every minute? She’s already tugging my heartstrings. I can’t imagine if I’d been there the day she was born, how intense that bond would be.
“You’re good at this,” Dahlia says as Chloe’s eyes start to close.
“At what? Letting a sweet little girl pretty me up?”
“At letting her accept you.” Her voice catches, and she shakes her head. “Sorry, I’m overly emotional from lack of sleep and the drama of the past few days.”
“I don’t know how you could be anything else.
She’s magical, Dahlia. I’ve been holding her, wondering how anyone could ever be apart from her.
” I pause, realizing how that sounded. “I know it’s complicated when parents aren’t together.
One will always have to be without the child…
but across the country?” I blow out a long exhale.
“I can’t imagine. I have mad respect for the sacrifices parents have to make in order to co-parent well. ”
“I’ve been struggling with that too, believe me.” She slumps back against her chair. “And same, mad respect. But Christian isn’t the typical doting father. He didn’t want to have her in the first place, and now I don’t buy this sudden effort he’s putting in. I hope I’m wrong.”
Chloe makes a noise in her sleep, and we both smile.
“You can lay her down. Rest your arms,” she says.
“I don’t mind holding her.”
She smiles. “Maybe I’m ready to have you to myself for a little while.”
I stand immediately and lay Chloe down in the portable crib, making Dahlia laugh under her breath. When Chloe turns to lie on her side, we stand there for a moment just watching her.
And then Dahlia takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen, where we can hear Chloe, but there’s no chance of her seeing anything we might do.
I free the clip and then tug my hair from the holder, letting it fall back into place. Dahlia runs her hands through it, and I lean into her like a puppy.
I back her against the wall, and our mouths crash together in a kiss that’s all heat and urgency. I lift her up, her legs wrapping around my waist, and I pin her there with my hips.
She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. I trail kisses down her neck, her pulse racing under my lips. I lift her shirt, exposing her skin, my hands exploring every curve I want to memorize. I can’t get enough of her, can’t get close enough. She arches into me, my name on her lips.
I undo my belt one-handed, the other holding her steady, and undo her jeans. I set her down long enough to pull them down and then mine, and when I pull a condom out of my pocket, she whispers, “I’m on the pill.”
I pause, studying her face. “You want me to go bare?”
She swallows hard and eventually nods.
“Fuck,” I say into her mouth as I lift her again. “I’ve never done that. I want to with you. I test frequently and am all clear.”
“Me too,” she says.
She looks like she’s about to say something else, and I wait for it, but then she kisses me hard, and I slide into her.
I curse under my breath again, shuddering at how perfect it feels. Tight, wet, us. I feel every flutter she makes, my dick jerking with each pulse. We move together, slowly at first, savoring the build, and her breath hitches with every thrust.
The wall creaks slightly under our weight, but we don’t care. It’s not loud enough to make a difference. Her eyes lock on mine, almost as if she’s daring me to give her everything.
“I need you. More,” she murmurs, and it’s romantic and sexy as hell, this connection between us.
I pick up the pace, fast and relentless.
Our eyes never stray from each other, and it makes everything more intense.
My balls slap against her, and I can feel her getting closer.
I’m barely hanging on by a thread. Her moans muffle against my shoulder, our bodies slick and in sync.
This feels like more than just sex; it feels like we’re claiming each other.
“Mmm,” I groan. “I need you to come first,” I tell her.
“I’m so close,” she whispers.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, and when she tugs it, I feel her clamping down on my dick, squeezing the life out of me. She whimpers against me, and I follow right after her, burying my face in her neck as I sail into a dream state.
We stay like that, pressed together as we catch our breath. The house is quiet except for our breathing.
She smiles at me, tousled and beautiful.
“This is crazy,” she says.
“It is,” I admit. “And yet, I’m surprisingly calm about it.”
She grins, and I set her down. We clean up, exchanging secret smiles and lingering touches while Chloe naps.
When she wakes up, her fever is up again, but it doesn’t seem to wear her down too much. I turn on a movie, and when it’s time for dinner, I put together a quick pasta, which Dahlia raves about like she’s never had a home-cooked meal.
“I’m just not used to anyone cooking for me,” she says. “Everything tastes better when I don’t have to make it.”
As night falls, we watch the sun set into the water.
I run a bath for Chloe, and when they come out of the bathroom half an hour later, I find one of my nephew’s books from when he and Noah were visiting and read it to her, doing different voices for all the characters.
Both Dahlia and Chloe think that’s hilarious, which just eggs me on.
I stroke Chloe’s hair absently while I read, feeling an unfamiliar peace.
Bedtime comes, and we tuck her in, but not even five minutes later, a whimper echoes across the hall. Dahlia scoops her up, and when she starts to lie on the couch with her, I shake my head.
“Bring her into the bedroom. You should sleep in a bed.”
“I don’t want to disturb you,” she argues.
“You won’t. We’re having a slumber party,” I tease.
She lays Chloe between us, and her eyes meet mine over Chloe’s head in the dim light.
“You’re really okay with this?” she asks.
“I really am.” I smile at her. “Good night, sleepyhead,” I tell Chloe, even though she’s already asleep. “Night, beautiful,” I tell Dahlia.
I reach over Chloe’s head and put my hand on Dahlia’s cheek. She reaches up and threads her fingers through mine.
“Thank you for one helluva day,” I whisper.