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“Chicken and veggie stir-fry.”
“Come on. Let’s get you inside, and we can figure out whether we need to go to the hospital.”
Dylan’s eyes widened. “It’s not that bad.” He poked his stomach. “Really. I don’t know why Bex made such a big deal of it.”
Suspicion gripped Shane. His son had never been a good liar, and right now, something was up. He stepped out of the car and strode around to the other door. “Do you need me to help you inside?”
His suspicion increased when Dylan scuttled out of the back. “I think I’m starting to feel better.”
If he’d felt anything other than peachy the entire evening, Shane would eat his hat. He was getting the impression his son had faked an illness. The question was why.
“Did Bex give you anything for the pain?” he asked as they walked inside. “Panadol?”
“Yeeeah.” He drew the word out, reluctant to answer.
“Did it help?”
“Not back then, but maybe it’s kicking in now.”
“Uh-huh.” In the lounge, Shane instructed Dylan to wait on the couch while he went to get a thermometer. Faith had wrapped Hunter in a blanket on the armchair and vanished into the kitchen. When Shane returned, thermometer in hand, Dylan squirmed. “Open up.” As he’d expected, his son’s body temperature was perfectly normal.
Faith came around the corner, bringing a tray laden with mugs. She set it on the coffee table. “Hot chocolates for everyone. Proper ones, made with Belgian chocolate.”
“Marshmallows?” Hunter asked.
She winked at him. “And marshmallows.”
What a sweetheart. He’d cut her night short, and rather than ditch him, she was helping them out.
“Oops.” They all turned just in time to see Hunter slosh brown liquid down his chin and onto his lap.
Faith bolted upright. “Don’t move, honey. I’ll grab a towel.”
The minute she left the room, Dylan narrowed his eyes at Shane. “Why’d you have to bring her home with you?”
Shane’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
Dylan stood, shoulders back, pain apparently forgotten. “I don’t know why you think she’s so special. Her hair is a weird color and she dresses like she’s from the past.”
A whimper in the doorway made them both turn. Shane’s heart plummeted to his shoes when he saw Faith standing there, no doubt having heard every word. But before he could insist his son apologize, she pasted a smile on and breezed into the room, towel in hand. She dabbed Hunter dry while tension crackled around her, then lifted him out of the chair.
“Why don’t you and I go read a story?” she suggested, and when he nodded, she carried him from the room.
Shane paced over and closed the door behind her, then he whirled on Dylan. “I hope you’re pleased with yourself. You hurt Faith’s feelings, and she’s never been anything but nice to you.”
To Dylan’s credit, he looked pained, but still defiant.
“Are you even sick?” Shane asked.
“No,” he admitted, downcast. “But I don’t want Faith to take Mum’s place. We don’t need anyone else. We’re fine just like we are.”
“Oh.” Deflated, Shane sank into a chair. “Is that what you think she’s trying to do?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, everyone around town says you’re together, and her parents think you are, and then you went to the wedding. That’s the sort of stuff you do with a girl you like. The kind of thing you used to do with Mum.”
Shane sighed. It seemed he had some explaining to do and an apology to make. “Look, I need to tell you something, but first, you have to understand that nothing excuses your behavior tonight. You worried Bex and me, and Faith had to leave her cousin’s wedding early because of you. That’s not acceptable.”
Dylan ducked his head and mumbled something.
