Dylan's Daddy Dilemma (The Colorado Fosters Book 04) (8 page)

He cursed loudly and slammed the trunk shut. Idiotic to allow a woman to crawl into his life and past his defenses once again. At least with Elise, he’d known her history. He’d known her family. He understood what demons had haunted her. None of that excused her eventual behavior or his inability to clue in and see what was really happening, but he couldn’t say he’d gone in completely blind, either. His heart had led, not his brain.

Dylan strode toward the house with a new goal in mind. One way or another, he’d get his questions answered, and he’d do so without being swayed by Chelsea’s various charms. Not her depths-of-the-ocean blue eyes that seemed to hold, all at once, sadness and fear and hope. Not the sultry yet somehow sweet quality to her voice. Not the adorable way she’d lift her chin in mule-headed stubbornness. And no, not even her too-smart-for-his-age, cuter-than-cute kid.

This time he’d lead with his brain, and his heart could just shut the hell up.

Chapter Seven

“R
eady for breakfast?” Chelsea asked Henry the next morning. They were in his new bedroom, complete with
two
bunk beds, which had thrilled Henry. He’d almost been beside himself with the realization that he had
four
beds to choose from and that he could select a different bed each and every night if he so chose.

Even better to his four-year-old mind was the dresser drawer full of flashlights. Gavin had explained that, as a child, he’d hated the first few nights in a new foster home. He hadn’t known his surroundings, so that made it difficult if he had to find the bathroom in the dark. Therefore, with that memory firmly in place, he’d stocked flashlights in each of the two bedrooms the campers would stay in while they bunked at the house.

It was, Chelsea thought, a sad tale with a sweet ending.

“Can’t I just stay in here and play?” Henry asked, looking up from the various toy trucks and cars he’d brought to the center of the room. In addition to the flashlights and bunk beds, the room housed two large toy boxes and a tall bookshelf, both of which looked to be handmade and both filled to capacity. “I’m not hungry yet and this is more fun than breakfast!”

There were plenty of valid reasons to insist Henry follow her downstairs, but he’d been pulled and tugged in so many directions lately, she just didn’t have the heart. Let him play. Breakfast could wait. “Sure,” she said. “Keep having fun, sweetie, and I’ll come get you in an hour. Or if you decide you’re ready to eat before then, come downstairs and find me.”

“Okay, Mommy. Thanks!” He returned his attention to the pileup and, selecting a toy police car, rolled it forward and said in a booming voice, “You’re under arrest! No one move!”

She grinned and left the room. As she walked toward the stairs, she heard Henry mimicking the sound of a police siren as, she guessed, the cop car gave chase. It was wonderful, experiencing her son’s childhood elation and being relaxed enough to enjoy the moment.

The job offer had become definite once Haley and Gavin had looked over her résumé. Oh, she was sure that her employment history wasn’t a perfect match to what they required, but they must have decided she was, at the very least, trainable. And her reference letters were good enough to satisfy both of them, though she assumed either Gavin or Haley would follow up with phone calls or emails within the next few days. She wasn’t concerned, though.

She’d earned the positive remarks in those reference letters by working hard, keeping her head down and being as reliable as possible with a small child.

So long as nothing wacky occurred, she was set.

Downstairs now, Chelsea found Haley in the kitchen. The woman was sitting at the long rectangular table sipping orange juice. In front of her was a container of yogurt, a half-eaten bowl of cereal and a spread-open notebook with a mile-long handwritten list she seemed to be reading. Her hair—the same reddish-brown shade as Dylan’s—was bunched in a loose knot on top of her head, with long, wavy strands framing her face. Gavin was nowhere to be seen.

“Good morning,” Chelsea said as she approached the table. She spied the full pot of coffee on the counter and wondered if she was free to serve herself. No. Better wait until the rules were established. Instead, she took a chair across from Haley. “Henry is too enamored with the array of toys in his room to be bothered with breakfast just yet. But don’t worry. He’ll let me know when he’s hungry, and I’m ready to start work whenever you are.”

“Wow, that’s quite the speech,” Haley said with a welcoming smile. “And good morning to you.” She put down her orange juice and with the same hand gestured toward the fridge. “This is your home now, so help yourself to whatever you’d like. And I’m glad Henry’s having such a good time, but no worries. You’re not on the clock today.”

“Ah...what do you mean I’m not on the clock?” Suddenly, Chelsea wasn’t as sure about being set as she had been a few seconds ago. “It’s Monday. I assumed you’d want to get started.”

“And that would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Haley swirled her spoon in the yogurt. “We’re so behind schedule that Gavin and I thought it best to hold off on training until we’re more caught up. Our goal is to be ready for you by next week. We thought, to make it easier with Henry, we’d try four to five hours a day, Monday through Friday. So twenty to twenty-five hours each week. Does that sound good for you?”

“Yeah. That’s great.” Ready for her? “Is there a problem I should be concerned with?”

“Oh, no! It’s nothing like that. We just finished the winter season, here at the camp and at my family’s businesses, so there’s a ton to do before we can move on to preparing for summer. Paperwork, mostly. Inventory. Some marketing I have to deal with, updating the various websites and such.” Haley tapped her finger on the notebook. “A few repairs on our property—that’s where Gavin’s at now, and...well, there’s just a lot.”

“I can help. I’m here now, why not put me to use?”

“Again, that would seem to make sense, wouldn’t it?” Haley sighed. “The truth is, it will be quicker for us to dredge through what needs to be done and then focus our attention on setting up for summer. That’s where you’ll come in. Easier to train you from point A rather than from somewhere toward the end, which is where we’re at now. Please, please don’t take any of this the wrong way. We really are thrilled you’re here! We’re just a little unprepared.”

“No, no. I get it.” And she did. But she couldn’t sit around for a full week and pretend she was on vacation. That
would
make her feel as if she and Henry were charity cases, which was not the way she wanted this endeavor to begin. “How about this? Until you’re ready, I can help with some of the household chores. Cooking, cleaning, laundry? Does that sound fair?”

“Oh, no, you don’t. I mean, if you feel like cooking one night, I won’t argue, but we didn’t hire you to be our maid. Clean up after yourself and Henry, and we’ll be good. Besides,” Haley said with a mischievous grin, “Dylan has decided to show you and Henry around Steamboat Springs. He should be here any minute now, actually.”

Butterflies. Again. At the merest
mention
of Dylan.

“No, that isn’t necessary! I can stay busy and Henry loves his room and there’s absolutely no reason for Dylan to go out of his way or...”
Talk slower
, Chelsea ordered herself. She inhaled a calming breath. “That is, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Why, you’re blushing!” The green in Haley’s eyes darkened with curiosity. “That’s cute...and interesting. My brother, however, doesn’t seem to think you’re a bother. This was his idea, and he was quite determined when he called this morning. Insistent, even.” Haley’s eyes narrowed in speculation. “And now that I think about it, that’s interesting, too.”

“I just don’t understand why he’d... Doesn’t he have as much to do as you and Gavin? At the restaurant, I mean, with end-of-the-season responsibilities and such?”

“Oh, he does. Which is another interesting point, isn’t it? Is it possible that he’s...?” She paused, shook her head. Gnawed on her lip for a few seconds. Then, as if she’d reached some decision unknown to Chelsea, Haley bestowed her with a huge grin. “Don’t worry about Dylan. I’m sure he’s worked out his schedule to everyone’s satisfaction. And once I told him you were free until next Monday, he started making plans for the whole week. You should be plenty busy.”

The week?
As in seven days? Great. Just freaking great.

And she, apparently, had no say in the matter. How was she to keep Dylan a long arm’s distance away, and her unwanted reactions toward him at a minimum, if he had declared himself to be her tour guide for an entire week? No. There had to be a way out.

Trying again, she said, “That’s nice. Really nice. But I’d rather stay here and help however I can. Maybe you’ll come up with something I can do. Something you’re not even thinking of right now. The wedding plans! I can help with those.” Haley watched her with that same steady gaze she’d already experienced time and again with Dylan. “Even if my official job doesn’t start until next week, you’re still giving me and my son room and board. Right?”

“Which you’ll more than earn,” Haley said matter-of-factly. “Beginning
next
Monday. And while I might ask for your opinion here and there as we finalize the very simple wedding details, you should take this week to relax. Let Dylan show you around.”

“But—”

“You can do as you choose, obviously,” Haley said. “But Dylan really wants to do this, and honestly? This isn’t like him, being so dead-set on anything. Not since he—” Haley blew out a breath. “I would consider it a huge favor if you went along. At least for today, if not the week.”

Chelsea took stock of the other woman. A favor, huh? For her new employer? “Okay, then,” she said, giving in.
Again.
This was becoming a habit where Dylan was concerned. “I guess I should get ready.”

“Probably a good idea. He said he was on his way almost twenty—” She broke off at the unmistakable sound of a car door slamming shut. Another grin lit her face. “And that would be him now. He’ll probably come in through the back, so—”

“Henry needs to get dressed. And he needs to eat something,” Chelsea said, jumping to her feet. She wasn’t prepared to see Dylan just yet. First she had to calm down and come up with a new strategy. Oh, and get rid of the damn butterflies that had decided to make her stomach their home. “And...um...I should change into something more appropriate for sightseeing.”

“I can see why you might want to do just that,” Haley said, laughter leaking into her voice. “Since we all know that jeans are so not appropriate for a casual day out. You know what? You should wear a short skirt, to show off your legs. Dylan’s a sucker for long legs.”

“That isn’t what I meant!” Heat flooded Chelsea’s cheeks at Haley’s suggestion. Of course her jeans were fine. But her two-inch heeled boots were
not
fine for a day of walking. And she didn’t care if Dylan was a sucker for long legs. Did not care at all. She was about to say those exact words—with emphasis—when heavy footsteps on the back porch put her in motion. “I’ll be right back. After Henry is dressed and I change my shoes!”

She didn’t wait for a response, just raced from the room and was halfway up the stairs before she stopped hearing Haley’s not-smothered-at-all bouts of laughter. A second later, Dylan’s deep voice greeting his sister reached Chelsea’s ears. Forty-eight hours ago, she hadn’t known a man like Dylan Foster existed.

And now, she had to spend the day—no, the
week
—with him.

A man her traitorous heart wanted to like, trust and get to know better. But why bother? Doing so would only be asking for trouble. Her wish to allow one trustworthy person into her life had been made in a desperate, lonely moment. In the cold light of day, she knew better. Because, even if she managed to push past her defenses to let Dylan in, even if she was wrong and he didn’t view her as a helpless mess of a failure, what would be the point? She already knew the ending to that story, and she had no desire to be shown, yet again, that she was better off on her own.

Also troublesome, though on a smaller scale, was that Haley likely thought that she—due to Chelsea’s odd behavior—was hot and bothered over Dylan. Who happened to be Haley’s brother. And somehow, Chelsea was going to have to live and work with Haley. Resisting the urge to scream, Chelsea climbed the rest of the stairs and went to get Henry dressed.

Could this brand-new fresh start of hers get any more complicated?

* * *

God, she smelled good. Like orange blossoms and honey and something else, something flowery. Jasmine, maybe. Whatever the combination, the result was a vibrant, evocative and entirely feminine scent that seemed perfectly suited for Chelsea.

She looked good, too. A little too good for Dylan’s peace of mind. Her long dark hair was pulled away from her face in some sort of a clip, which he supposed served a practical purpose, but all it did for him was bring those gorgeous blue eyes of hers even more into focus.

If that wasn’t enough, she’d chosen to wear black jeans that were neither too loose nor too tight, but somehow still managed to beautifully show off the long line of her legs. And then she’d topped it all off with a jade-green button-down shirt that looked soft to the touch and offered the tiniest glimpse of cleavage. It was as if she’d dressed with pleasing him in mind, because he’d always appreciated the leave-more-to-the-imagination casual look in the opposite sex than the show-every-inch-of-skin-possible type of ensembles.

And despite his attempts, he couldn’t stop imagining. What her body looked like beneath those jeans and that soft-to-the-touch shirt. What her hair would look like tumbled around her face in disarray after she was kissed the way a woman should be kissed. Soundly. Passionately.

Fortunately, Henry’s nonstop chatter in the backseat served well enough at keeping Dylan’s mind from straying too far down that path. At the moment, the boy was asking his mother what had to be the hundredth
why
question since they’d left Haley’s.

Okay, the fifth, but it felt as if he had a hundred more raring to go. So far, they’d covered “Why aren’t there any more dinosaurs?”, “Why do dogs bark and cats meow?”, “Why does the red light mean stop and the green light mean go?” and Dylan’s favorite—at this point, at least—“Why don’t cows give root beer instead of milk?”

And one by one, Chelsea had answered each of her son’s questions with a mix of honesty and humor. From what he could see, she wasn’t only a good mother, she was a patient and interested mother, which meant that Henry was one lucky little boy. The interaction also served to quell some of his concerns. A woman who was a good, patient and interested mother couldn’t harbor too many dark secrets, could she?

Dylan eased his car to a stop at the light and listened to Chelsea’s response to the newest question: “Why’d we come here for our brand-new fresh start instead of Disney World?”

Well. Looky there. Maybe he’d get some of
his
questions answered just by paying attention to Henry’s.