“The lawn.” Laughter bubbles in my throat, because the only thing this jungle and a lawn have in common is their green color. Then the laughter dies, when I realize the amount of hard work waiting for him.
“You should hire someone to do this,” I say, thinking of this morning.
He snorts, and his brows draw together. His jaw clenches. “Yeah, well. We fired the butler last week, princess, but I’m sure the royal gardener will be around later to take care of this.”
I shake my head. I don’t need this, not from Dylan. “Right. I’ll take the kids inside and go, then.” I set off down the path toward the house. “Leave you to it.”
“Wait, Tess…” I’m about to brush past him, but he reaches for me and puts a hand on my back. His hand radiates heat even through my thick jacket. “Sorry. That wasn’t directed at you.”
“The anger, you mean?”
“Yeah. I’m just…” He steps aside, rubs the back of his head. So close, he smells of clean male sweat and musk, citrus and coffee. “I’m a bit out of sorts.”
Concern holds me still even as Teo starts squirming in my arms. “Out of sorts?”
“It’s nothing.” Dylan smiles faintly, the ring in his lip glinting, and all I want is to kiss that beautiful mouth.
“Nothing,” I say, echoing him again, and put Teo down so he can run after his brother to the house. “What’s up with you, Dylan? Why aren’t you at work?”
He shrugs. “I had to run some errands.”
He’s lying. I’m not sure how I know. Maybe it’s the way he continues rubbing the back of his head and keeps his gaze averted.
“Teo is fine now.” I nod in the direction of the house. “That’s one thing off your back at least.”
He nods. “Yeah, that’s awesome.”
I study the tension in his shoulders. “Medical expenses are covered by Medicaid, right?”
“Mostly.” He straightens and lifts the trimmer. “I should get on with this.”
Should. Shouldn’t. Shouldn’t love you. Should leave. Should this and that. Who made up these rules?
“Or maybe you should go in,” I say, “and change before you catch pneumonia. I’ll go check on the boys.”
“Tess, why… Why are you helping me with Miles and Teo?” he asks quietly, and it’s that quiet, disbelieving tone that gets to me.
As if he doesn’t expect anyone to do anything for him anymore. And despite all the pent-up anger I harbor at all his rejections, his contradictory actions, at the hurt he caused me, my love for him won’t let me walk away.
“Because I want to,” I say and walk to the house, not waiting to see if he’s following me.
***
Dylan does follow me into the kitchen. He leans against the wall, watching me as I hunt for ingredients in the fridge and cupboards. They’re mostly empty.
“You should go shopping,” I say.
He clears his throat. “What are you doing?”
“Making dinner. For your brothers.”
He’s silent for a bit. Then he sighs. “Not for me, huh? You’d leave me to starve?”
“You’re a big boy, Dylan. You can make your own food.”
He says nothing, and I turn to find his gaze on me, dark and unfocused. He’s braced on the wall as if in pain. I’d worry, but then I notice the front of his gray jogging pants is tented, so the only one I’m worried about is myself.
Because I’d give in if he asked to take me here and now, on the kitchen table, on the floor. And I won’t.
With an effort, I turn back to my task, heat climbing my neck. My breasts feel heavy and tingly when I imagine his hands, his mouth on them. My core throbs in time to my heart.
Crap.
“You could make omelets,” Dylan says from behind me. “There’re eggs.”
“Is that what you normally make?”
“Guess what, princess,” he mutters. “I cook lots of different things. I cook every day. Who do you think takes care of everyone here?”
“I thought the standard fair would be take-out,” I say, my mouth on autopilot.
“Take-out is expensive and unhealthy for kids. I was gonna make fish fillet in butter sauce, but I know you hate fish, so I won’t offer to make it for you.”
I stare at the eggs I have been taking out of the box. I didn’t know he ever paid enough attention to me to know what I like, or not like. It’s sweet of him—and dangerous for me. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”
“I also make a mean steak and great burgers. You do like those.”
I do. Oh God.
Caught like a deer in headlights, I try to focus on what I’m supposed to be doing. This is some sort of sick joke of the universe, because I want to be angry with him, and I can’t, not when he’s being thoughtful and kind.