Chapter 5
5
WILLOW
God, I have a new respect for parents. After taking in Juniper, I realize how dang hard it is to do… well, anything. She’s been home from the hospital for twenty-four hours, and while she is improving, I haven’t slept. I stand at the kitchen sink, staring blankly out the window. The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a warm glow that does little to penetrate the exhaustion fogging my mind. My normally put-together long dark hair resembles a rat's nest, cascading around my shoulders in unruly waves, proof I haven’t showered in a day.
I glance at the clock. It's been less than an hour since I last checked on her, but it feels like an eternity. My body is heavy with fatigue, and I can barely keep my eyes open. Normally, I take pride in my appearance, but today, I could give two shits about how I look. My shirt is stained from spilled coffee, and the bags under my eyes feel like they’re sinking into my soul.
Yawning, I fight back the fatigue that threatens to knock me over where I stand. The dishes mock me from the sink, as if to remind me what a failure I am at this moment. As I turn to grab a cup of coffee, I nearly drop it when a knock sounds at the door. Glancing at the green glow of the clock on the microwave, I furrow my brow in confusion about who could be at my door at this early hour. I set the cup down and move to answer it, my heart racing. Unlocking the door, I open it a fraction as the chain catches.
"Dallas," I blink, surprised to see him standing on my porch. Shutting the door, I slide the chain off and tug the door open all the way.
He looks me over, taking in my disheveled state, and raises an eyebrow. “Wow, Willow, you look like you’ve been through a war zone,” he says, his tone laced with sarcasm.
“Not now, Dallas,” I snap, my voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. “I’ve had a rough night.”
He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just checking in on you and your daughter .”
The way he says daughter makes my hackles rise, and I narrow my eyes on him.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs as if his being here is normal. “Thought you might need some help.”
“Help?” I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich coming from you.”
He steps closer, concern replacing the sarcasm in his eyes. “Seriously, Willow, you look exhausted. When was the last time you slept?”
I shake my head, unable to form a coherent response. The tears I’ve been holding back threaten to spill over, and I turn away from him, hoping he doesn’t see.
“Willow,” he says softly, placing a hand on my shoulder.
Despite my anger, I feel a flicker of gratitude. I let out a shaky breath and turn to face him.
“I’m just so tired, Dallas.”
He shoulders past me into the living room, leaving me to stare out into the early morning sky. For a moment, I’m transfixed on how the red and orange paint the clouds like cotton candy as the sun rises. Shaking out of the trance I’m in, I turn and sigh.
“Why are you here?”
I watch as he crosses the room and disappears into the kitchen. Needing to put my eyes on Juniper, I hurry down the hallway and poke my head into my room. She’s still snug as a bug in the center of the bed. As much as I want to stare at her, I have to deal with the confusing man in my kitchen.
Standing in the doorway, I watch Dallas at the sink, his sleeves rolled up on his pristine white shirt, exposing the sinewy strength of his forearms as he methodically washes each dish. The water runs over his hands, creating a rhythmic sound that is weirdly soothing. His face is a mix of concentration and calm, and I feel a sudden, surprising longing surge through me.
Seeing him like this, so domestic and compassionate, tugs at something deep within me. It conflicts with everything I know about him, making the moment even more confusing. My emotions, already frayed, begin to unravel, and tears spill down my cheeks before I can stop them.
Dallas must hear me because he stops what he’s doing. In a few strides, he crosses the small space and pulls me into a tight hold. His arms wrap around me with a firmness that shocks me. He runs his fingers through my tangled hair, his touch tender.
“It’s okay, Willow,” he murmurs, his voice soft and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” I step back from his embrace.
“It’s fine, Willow.” Questions burn in the deep brown pools as he holds my gaze. “Why isn’t her dad here helping you?”
“I don’t know who her father is… Dallas, Juniper isn’t mine. Well, biologically. She’s my niece.” I watch a myriad of questions filter across his expression.
“I see.” He dips his chin. “Where is —”
Just as he asks the one thing I’m not ready to explain, my phone buzzes across the counter's surface, sparing me from telling him everything. Snatching it quickly, I put some needed distance between us. Dragging him into this mess is not a wise idea. Dallas follows me as I escape into the living room. I read the message, and my heart drops into my stomach. The words blur as panic sets in, and I feel my hands start to shake.
“What is it?” Dallas asks, concern etched across his face.
I darken the screen and lay it on the coffee table. “Nothing.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “Willow, if something’s wrong?—”
“Dallas, please,” I interrupt, my voice sharper than I intended, but I need to put up walls to protect him, and frankly, my heart seems to beat a mile a minute from the nearness of this man. “My personal life is none of your business. Besides, you’ve made it clear you don’t like me. Let’s just keep this professional. I’ll be back to work tonight as long as Juniper’s fever stays down.”
His expression hardens, hurt flashing in his eyes. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I say firmly, though my heart aches at the sight of him stepping back. “I’m sorry, Dallas. I just… it’s how it has to be.”
He nods, turning to leave. “Take care, Willow.”
As the door closes behind him, I sink to the floor, the weight of the message pressing down on me. I pull out my phone again, reading the text over and over, the words burning into my mind.
Unknown: We know where you are.
Terror grips me, and I glance toward Juniper’s room, my mind racing. I need to protect her, but I can’t keep running. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. I need a plan. I need to stay strong for Juniper. For now, I’ll have to keep this secret, no matter how much it tears me apart.
I push to my feet and peek out the window. Dallas is still sitting in the driveway, his head resting on the steering wheel. I hate how I treated him, especially after he came over to check on me. Snatching my phone up again, I pull up his contact. I hesitate over his contact, deciding to text him.
Willow: Thank you for coming over.
Bosshole: I’m worried about you.
Willow: Don’t fret—you won’t have to cover my shift forever.
Bosshole: I don’t give a fuck about the bar, Willow.
Willow: Oh. Right. I’m expendable.
Bosshole: Is that what you think? Willow, you're far from expendable.
Willow: OK. Well… thanks. I’ll let you or Cali know if I’ll be in tonight.
Bosshole: You’ll let me know—not Cali.
Willow: Fine.
I stare at my screen, perplexed at his sudden one-eighty in the way he seems to care about what I do now.
Willow: Why do you suddenly care?
Bosshole: I don’t know.
Willow: Right. Ok. Well, thanks again.
Bosshole: Willow… open the door.
What the hell? I jerk open the door to find Dallas standing there.
“What?”
“I needed to know,” he rasps, his voice rough with an emotion I can't quite place.
“Know what?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Without a word, he shoves his fingers into my hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me forward with an urgency that takes my breath away. His lips crash against mine, and for a moment, I’m too stunned to react. Shock courses through me, electrifying my senses as he licks the seam of my mouth, demanding entrance. His kiss is a potent mix of desperation and longing, and despite the confusion swirling in my mind, I respond, opening to him and letting him in. The world fades, and all that remains is the intense connection between us, raw and undeniable.
When he finally pulls back, he smirks. “As sweet as I expected.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “Go inside, lock the door, and sleep. And if Juniper wakes up, call her nanny to come help you, Willow.”
“What?” I blink.
“Just say yes, sir.”
Completely lost to feelings I don’t understand, I whisper, “Yes, sir.”
“Good Girl. Now go.” He turns my body around and pats my backside. “Lock the door behind you.”
Moving like a sloth, I step inside the house and push the door closed behind me. Mindlessly, I turn the lock and press my hand against the wood. My lips still tingle from his touch. Reaching up, I press my fingers where his mouth dominated mine only moments ago. I should be pissed that he caught me off guard, but instead, all I can think about is when I can kiss him again.
The soft glow of the sunlight casts shadows that dance across the hall walls, but my mind is focused on the lingering sensation of his kiss. It felt like a spark igniting something deep within me, something I thought I buried long ago. My rational mind screams at me to stay away, to protect myself and Juniper from the chaos that comes with a man like Dallas. Yet my heart betrays me, craving the connection and the intensity he left burning in my veins.
As I stand there, my forehead resting against the door, I feel the weight of my exhaustion mixed with a growing desire that confuses me. I close my eyes, trying to steady my racing thoughts, but all I can see is the look in his eyes just before he kissed me—a look that spoke of something I can't quite decipher.
This can’t mean anything but trouble.
I know this, yet a part of me is already craving another encounter, wondering if I’ll have the strength to resist him or if I'll surrender to the pull that seems to draw us together despite all the reasons we should stay apart.
And more than that… when Dallas called me a good girl, something flickered inside me. Something dangerous and forbidden—something I liked more than I want to admit.