Chapter Eleven
F or the next week, I spend it mostly alone with Lily.
I see Dean for a fleeting moment every morning and only a few minutes in the evening when I tell him how the day went.
We don’t share dinner again; we don’t talk much at all past discussing Lily.
He’s my boss, and I’m his employee, nothing more and nothing less.
I managed to find a routine with Lily, but I’ve also noticed how disconnected Dean is with her.
He does everything he needs to, buys her clothes and formula, toys, and books.
She’ll never want for anything, but it doesn’t feel right.
And while I don’t know Dean much at all, I know he isn’t a bad father.
I see he wants it, but there’s something there, holding him back.
On Friday, I let myself into the house, immediately finding him in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand. Dressed impeccably as usual in his dark, tailored suit, his hair meticulously styled, and thick framed glasses on his face.
“It’s Lily’s first session with the playgroup at the library,” I tell him by way of greeting, “We need to leave in twenty minutes if we are going to make it.”
“We?” His head snaps back.
“Yes, we,” I place my bag on the counter and head through to the living room where Lily is, the TV playing to keep her occupied, another thing I’ve noticed he does.
“Hi baby girl,” I greet her with a wide smile, getting a gummy one in return as I lift her from her rocker and carry her back through to her father. “Do you want to drive, or should I?”
He stares at me blankly, “I have work.”
“I don’t give a shit,” I give him a saccharine smile. “You hired me to help, I’m helping.”
“And this helps with what, exactly?”
“Bonding with your daughter.” I pluck his mug from his hand and take a sip of his coffee, not entirely sure where the confidence to do so has come from.
I’ve always felt safe with Dean, even when we first met and that was why I put the ten-foot wall up between us, but after the panic attack a week ago…
perhaps Dean isn’t such a bad person to have in my corner.
“I don’t need help,” He snatches his coffee back.
“You sure about that?” I challenge. “You know you can hold her in the morning, right? The TV is doing nothing for her, and she could use the interaction.”
“She’s fine.”
“She is,” I agree, “And I understand this isn’t something you wanted, but you have her, and she needs you.”
“You’ve no fucking idea what I want.” He snaps at me, the flare of anger sending warnings down my spine. I’m pushing too far, too hard, so I reel it back a little.
“I can’t force you to come, Dean, but having Lily around other children and in a setting outside of the house will be good for her.
Having her father, who I know gives a shit about her development and emotional wellbeing there with her will help her in the long run.
You keep putting this line in the sand with her, and as she grows up, she’ll remember, and when she needs someone?
It will not be you she turns to. Is that something you want? ”
He stares at me with a fire lit in his eyes, but he doesn’t talk.
“The foundations you lay now will set up your future, and only you get to decide what that looks like.”
There’s a pregnant pause, the silence thickening into a tension that makes my skin crawl, and when he makes no move to talk or come with me, I sigh, adjusting Lily so I can slide my purse onto my shoulder.
I feel disappointment with every step toward the door, but hope remains, silently urging him to come.
But it becomes obvious that he won’t when I get back out the door and pull it shut behind me. He isn’t coming.
I put on a smile so Lily can’t sense the crushing regret I have. It’s when I have her all strapped in and rounding the car to climb into the driver’s seat that the front door opens, and Dean steps out, locking up behind him.
His eyes meet mine for a second before he strides toward me. “I’m driving.”
It takes everything in me to tamp down the triumph surging up. Handing him the keys, I quietly head to the passenger side, climbing into the seat without saying a word.
The drive across the city to the library is silent, his focus on the road ahead, but even doing something as simple as driving, he exudes the kind of confidence I’ve only witnessed on TV.
He has one arm leaning against the door, the other carefully steering the car, and it’s really fucking hard not to stare at him.
He pulls into a space on the street outside the library, killing the engine a moment later. I reach for the door to climb out, but he hits the button, locking them all.
“What are you doing?”
“When we’re in a car together, I’ll open your door for you.”
My mouth pops open, forming an O, and I blink slowly at him.
“Is that a problem?” He quirks a brow, and I snap my mouth shut.
“No,” I squeak out.
A subtle smile tugs up the corner of his mouth before those dark eyes drop to my lips and linger.
“Good.” He rasps, slowly dragging his eyes back up to mine.
Something warm blooms in my lower stomach at the way he just looked at me, the heat of it sparking against my skin like a physical touch, and as if he knows, his mouth breaks into a cocky kind of grin.
The moment breaks when he climbs from the car and rounds the hood to open my door before he moves to the back to get Lily.
Once we get her in her stroller, Dean pushes her toward the doors to the library, which open automatically to let him in, and we immediately find the group.
A couple of babies cry, and the smell of coffee permeates the air as a group of mostly women sit in the far corner, an arrangement of toys and blankets, and cushions set up in the middle of them.
I come to the library often, but usually during the quieter times in the evening, so seeing it this busy is jarring. But I push away the anxiety of the large group and walk beside Dean as we make our way there.
A woman I’ve seen working here steps over, “Are you here for the playgroup?” She asks, looking down at the clipboard.
“Yes, Sloane Reynolds with Lily Archer.”
“Oh, not married?” The woman flicks her eyes to me to do a once over and then dismisses me immediately. The question takes me off guard since, well… it’s the twenty-first century. But she said it loudly enough that it draws the attention of the rest of the group.
“She isn’t mine,” I grind out in answer, but it was apparently the wrong thing to say. The scowls thrown my way have my heart notching up in speed. So much attention is now on me, it’s making me sweat.
“Is there a problem?” Dean snaps suddenly, his voice a boom in the quiet library.
The woman pales, and I risk a glance at him to see why. He looks thunderous, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he waits for her to answer.
“Well,” She stutters, “These groups are for mothers as much as they are for the children. A village, you know? I’m sure you can understand.”
“No, I feel these groups are here to pass judgment on people they don’t know. Lily’s mother is out of the picture. Sloane wanted to provide an environment for my daughter outside of the house, but I can see she has made an error in judgment picking this one.”
“Sir, if you’ll just–”
“Let’s go,” Dean orders before turning around, every line of his body brimming with tension.
“Dean,” I chase after him, “Dean, wait!”
“We’ll find another one. Hell, I’ll ask Willow, she’s got a daughter around Lily’s age.”
“You could have just told her I was the nanny,” I suggest, my steps quick as I attempt to keep up with him.
“So, they could scowl at you some more?” He scoffs, “Fuck no.”
“I didn’t think it would be like that; the reviews are so good.”
“This is why I stay away from people,” He grumbles.
I couldn’t argue with that. We step out onto the street, but instead of heading back to the car, Dean starts to walk down the sidewalk.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“ We are going for breakfast.”
“We are?”
“You were right,” He huffs, clearly still pissed, “She needs to get out of the house and see more than just the ceiling.”
“Oh,” Is all I manage to reply.
“What?” He glances to me, some of the anger leaking away, “No smart retort about being right?”
“Why?” I shrug, matching my pace to his. “I already knew I was right.”