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Dylan grinned. “Zoey? Come show Alex your costume.”
Wearing a ladybug costume, the little girl dashed into the kitchen. Her round red belly had black dots, and she had wings and fuzzy black legs peeking out. To complete the look, she had antennae on her head and her nose painted black, as well as black stockings and shoes. He crouched down in front of her.
“You’re a pretty little ladybug.”
Zoey put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Alex stood up and smiled at Dylan.
“She loves ladybugs,” Dylan said.
Alex glanced at Dylan. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” He straightened up. “Where’s your costume?”
“Just the kids dress up.”
“That’s a real shame,” he murmured as he stepped closer to her.
Dylan tilted her head. “And what would you have me dress as?”
She watched a smirk lift his lips.
“A witch. Black dress, stockings, and hat. And let’s not forget the black stilettos.”
“You have this all figured out. Have you been giving it some thought?”
“Darlin’, when it comes to you, I am always having thoughts.”
Dylan laughed. “Maybe I’ll look into getting that costume for you and wear it on a weekend we have alone.”
“I’m all for that. I’d better go so you two can leave. I’ll see you later, right?”
“Yes. We should be home around three, so bring a pizza around six.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked at Zoey. “You have fun, Zoey. Don’t eat too many snacks. We’ll have pizza tonight.”
“Okay, Alex. Will you bring Peaches?”
Alex looked at Dylan and she nodded.
“Yes, I’ll bring her. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” Zoey said then ran back to her room.
“I’ll see you around six, baby. Have a good time.”
“I will.” She smiled when he kissed her lips, then walked out.
She closed the door, leaned back against it, and sighed. God, she had it bad. He better not break her or Zoey’s hearts.
A few days later, Dylan entered the barn with Zoey to muck out the stalls. She came to a halt when she saw a man at the other end. She gasped when she realized who it was. Travis.
“Stay right here, Zoey. Get off my property,” Dylan shouted and strode toward him.
“I want to see my daughter, Dylan,” Travis yelled.
“You don’t have a daughter. You gave up that right when you took her to a drug deal! You piece of shit.” She punched him in the face with her fist, making her knuckles hurt.
“Damn you,” Travis growled, wrapping his hands around her neck.
She couldn’t lose consciousness. She rammed her knee into his groin, making him loosen his grip, but he didn’t let go.
