AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What has him in such a bad mood?
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I can’t resist eavesdropping when he speaks again.
“No, I don’t understand,” he says with irritation. “Your website says that your team can handle last-minute requests. I’m willing to pay a premium for your services, so I fail to see the problem.” He rakes his hand through his hair as he listens to the person’s reply. “Yes, I know that Aspen Grove is a two-hour drive from the city, but I told you that cost isn’t an issue. Like I said before, my nanny quit, and I need to find a suitable replacement as soon as possible.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine. As soon as you find a candidate willing to come to Aspen Grove, call me back.” He disconnects the call and snaps his head in my direction, catching me staring.
“Um… is everything okay?” I ask cautiously.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” he says, glancing over at Lola and Waffles.
Worry etches itself on his face, and the words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. “What happened to Kendra?”
I immediately regret asking when Dylan gives me an intense stare. “Do you make it a habit of listening in on people’s private conversations?” he asks in a clipped tone.
“Only when the person is on the verge of spontaneous combustion.” I backpedal when he purses his lips, clearly unamused by my joke. “You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not.”
He studies me a beat before saying, “Kendra had a family emergency and is moving to Florida indefinitely to be with her parents.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope you can find a replacement soon.”
I’ve heard Dylan runs Stafford Holdings, a real estate conglomerate, with his brothers. I can only imagine the stress that comes with that responsibility.
He relies on Kendra to take care of Lola in the mornings before school, due to his early work schedule. I know this because whenever I’ve pulled an all-nighter in the studio, I’ve seen him leaving the house while it’s still dark outside. If he’s not leaving at the crack of dawn, he’s working from his home office that faces my studio.
The idea crosses my mind to offer to watch Lola until he finds a permanent replacement. I decide against it, though, assuming my unsolicited offer wouldn’t be well received given his attitude toward me. Besides, Gavin wouldn’t appreciate it if I did anything to cause additional delays in my painting schedule.
“I’ll get it sorted out,” Dylan says briskly.
“That’s good. Lola is an exceptional girl, and whoever you hire should consider themselves lucky to spend time with her,” I remark warmly.
The corner of his lips lift into a ghost of a smile. “Thanks for saying that.”
He might not have given me a full-on smile, but it’s more than I’ve gotten in the past, so I’m taking it as a win.
“Of course, she’s my neighbor,” I say fondly.
Dylan visibly relaxes, and I find it difficult to breathe when he moves closer. His typically serious and brooding demeanor momentarily fades, and I’m drawn to this glimpse of his gentler side, usually reserved for Lola.
An expression I can’t decipher flickers across his features, and my heart rate speeds up when his gaze flits across my face, lingering on the spot just below my mouth.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“You have paint on your face,” he says softly.
My breath hitches when he slowly reaches out and drags his thumb across my chin, grazing my lower lip, his fingers resting lightly on my jaw. A spark of electricity ripples through me at the unexpected warmth of his hand. I’m frozen in place, confused by my body’s reaction. The intensity in his eyes mirrors how I feel.
Dylan snaps out of it first, blinking rapidly, and shaking his head. He jerks his arm back to his side, flexing his hand. Did he find it that repulsive, or could he be as equally stunned by the intensity of the moment we just shared?
“I shouldn’t have touched you,” he says in a serious tone. “It was a reflex, given how often I have to wipe things off Lola’s face.”
“That’s alright.” I give him a tentative smile and attempt to keep my voice steady. “If you hadn’t, I probably would have spent the rest of the day with paint on my face.”
He dips his chin in a firm nod and avoids my gaze. “It’s time to go inside and wash up, ladybug,” he calls out to Lola. “There are celery sticks and apple slices in the kitchen waiting for you.” He glances down at his watch. “I have a call with your Uncle Harrison in fifteen minutes, so we need to hurry.”
“But Waffles and I are still playing,” Lola protests.
Oh boy.
Dylan won’t be happy if my dog interferes with his meticulously planned schedule.
