27. Dillan
27
DILLAN
T he afternoon stretches into night, and after putting Isaac to bed, I finalize my surprise. As I hear the key in the lock, a warmth fills my heart—she’s using the copy I made for her. I catch the sound of her entering the bathroom, then Isaac’s room, and finally quietly returning, likely finding him fast asleep.
“I don’t know what’s for dinner, but I can’t wait to eat it,” she says, coming into the kitchen, smiling brightly. “I could smell it all the way down the hall.”
She pauses when she sees the kitchen table. I draped a tablecloth over it and ordered a bouquet of fresh flowers for the centerpiece. The romantic setting is complete with candles and, instead of the typical red wine, homemade fruit-infused iced tea, ready and waiting. The perfect Romeo (and proud of it).
“What’s all this?” Her eyes glow in the candlelight.
I smile, giving her a kiss hello before placing my hand on her lower back and leading her toward the table. “I made you a special dinner.”
“Oh, my gosh, you did all this for me?” She’s clearly touched—her eyes start watering. “That’s so sweet of you. No man has ever cooked anything for me.”
“Hey, hey. Don’t cry?—”
“Seriously. Why did you do that?”
“Easy.” I smirk. “Something to get you fed—and ready for my bed.” I’m just kidding (but not). First and foremost, I want to cheer her up.
There’s no time for tears over here.
It seems to work.
“Dillan!” She smiles. “Ready for your bed? Is that what you just said?”
“I know you were thinking about it all day,” I tease. “Don’t lie.”
“It looks like you were thinking about it all day.”
I chuckle. “Okay, beautiful, the truth is, you’ve been working so hard that I wanted to do a little something nice for you.”
“Awww, you didn’t have to,” Lizzie half-protests, watching me pull out her chair for her.
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Now, take a seat.” She obliges, and I gently assist her into the chair. As I pour her a chilled glass of the refreshing iced tea, I add, “The food should be ready any minute. How was work?”
“We were really busy, but people kept taking their sweet time so we couldn’t bus the tables. Ended up getting into it with a few drunks.”
“Lovely. Bet they really enjoyed that.” I go back to the stove and start to plate our food.
Lizzie doesn’t answer right away, too busy taking a large sip of her iced tea. “Oh, they really did. Demanded to see the manager and everything. I was able to smooth things over, but it was touch and go there for a few minutes.”
Again, I have to wonder what kind of place she works at. “So, where is the café you waitress at?”
“Oh…Staten Island. Everything go okay with Isaac?”
I notice her abruptly change the topic, and today, there is no way that’s going to fly. “Lizzie, you’re hiding something from me.”
I can see her freeze, and there’s a brief flash of panic in her eyes. “Hm?”
“You’re hiding something from me,” I repeat.
“I just…I really don’t want to talk about work right now. Please.”
“Fine. But we are going to talk about it at some point,” I say. “For now, let’s just enjoy spending some time together.”
“I’d love nothing more. So, everything go okay with Isaac?”
“Oh, yeah, he was the sweetest, like he always is.” I serve our food before taking the seat across from her. “Now, eat up before it gets cold.”
“First, a toast.” Lizzie picks up her glass, and I follow her lead. “To the sexiest baby daddy a girl could ask for. I couldn’t do what I’m doing without you. And I really mean that.”
“Well, ever since a certain blonde girl told me I was the hottest stuff in high school, I knew I was a catch. But having the official title of ‘sexiest baby daddy’ is a whole new level. I must be making history. Where’s my throne?” I quip with a playful smirk.
Lizzie giggles. “You’re my undisputed king, and I know we haven’t had much time together as we wanted, but I’m going to make it up to you. I swear.”
“Lizzie, baby, you don’t need to make anything up to your undisputed king ,” I assure her, lowering my glass. “I love Isaac. I’m happy to help you in any way that I can. Please don’t feel like you owe me anything in return.”
Lizzie lowers her glass as well, staring at me with her beautiful smile. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same question.”
I notice a subtle shimmer in her eyes, a sign of emotions threatening to spill over. Quickly, I reach for a playful distraction.
“They say crying over spilled milk is bad luck,” I announce, leaning in. “But crying over a glass of iced tea? Now, that’s just a waste of good emotions.” I throw in a crooked grin and Lizzie starts laughing.
I raise my glass again. We toast to each other before diving into our meal. The creamy truffle pasta is a delight, but the real treat is the company. There’s nothing better than seeing Lizzie in a state of pure relaxation and happiness. She’s even talking about baking more. She tells me that before it used to be stress-related, but now it’s for fun. Her baking skills are phenomenal. Those lavish almond chocolate cookies she whipped up last week were absolutely to die for. Although, she mentioned something about using less chocolate this time. Seems her stash was running low.
Just as we’re finishing up, I hear Isaac starting to fuss over the monitor.
Lizzie instantly gets to her feet. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, sweetness.”
As she heads for Isaac’s room, I start to clear away our dinner, putting any leftovers in a container for her to take the next day. Then I finish cleaning up the kitchen—clearly, husband of the year. Or boyfriend of the year—before carrying both of our glasses into the living room. I have just set them down on the coffee table when Lizzie emerges.
“All set. He went right back to sleep. Didn’t even nurse the whole time…” She wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me from behind. “Thank you,” she mutters against my back. “You’ve been amazing at taking care of both of us, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure. I told you I would do everything in my power to make sure you’re taken care of, whether that’s taking care of our son so you can work on your career, or packing you leftovers for work. I wish you’d let me pay for the studio. But I know, I know, you want to do it on your own steam. Just know I’ll be happy to help anytime.”
I pivot to face her, so I can give her a proper kiss. Lizzie returns it excitedly before whispering against my lips. “I hope you’re ready for dessert.”
A thrill of excitement shoots through my whole body, straight into my hardening cock. “What dessert are we talking about here? I mean, it better be good.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Dr. Maxwell. I was talking about cookies.”
“No, you weren’t.” I grin, shaking my head. “Out of the question. Absurd. You weren’t talking about cookies.” I lock eyes with her, lowering my voice. “Or were you?”
She gives me a mischievous smile and leans in to whisper in my ear. “Okay, cookies are not the dessert I was talking about.”
“Well then, I can’t wait to see what sweet surprise you have in mind.”
Without warning, she pushes me backward, forcing me to sit on the couch.
“Have a seat, Doc,” she purrs. “We’ve got some time to make up for.”