Dylan's Daddy Dilemma (The Colorado Fosters Book 04) (6 page)

Surprised and somewhat ill at ease, Dylan sat up straighter. “What are you talking about? I’m about as laid-back as you can get. I think you’re confusing me with my brothers.”

“You can think what you want, and you put on a pretty good show.” Gavin laughed again, louder this time, as if he’d just heard the greatest joke ever told. “But as good as you are at pretending, it’s still nothing but a show.”

“In what way?”

The other man blinked. “Seriously? You’re sure you want me to go into this?”

“I have no idea what you mean. So yeah, seriously.”

“Okay.” Gavin glanced toward the women and Henry and, seeing they were only about halfway through the raising-a-tent lesson, nodded. “Back when I was a kid and stuck in the foster-care system, the only way to feel like life hadn’t handed you a full basket of rotten, stinking eggs was to put on an I-don’t-care attitude. Life is great. I’m great. Don’t want a damn thing I don’t already have.” Shrugging, Gavin finished off his coffee and set the mug on the porch’s wood-planked floor. “You remind me of those days. Of myself and the other boys.”

Dylan didn’t respond right off. Couldn’t for a few different reasons. One, he had never heard so many words come from Gavin’s mouth so quickly. Two, while the other man’s interpretation didn’t offend him, he found it troubling. Wrong, though.

“I know you had it tough growing up.” Swallowing down the rest of his coffee, Dylan chose his next words carefully. “And I can’t imagine what it took to get through those years, but my life in no way compares to what you had to deal with.”

“True enough.” Gavin rubbed his hand over his short, trimmed beard. “This is getting deep, and hell, this isn’t my business. But...”

“But?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think you’re this unhappy guy or anything. You’re aware of what’s good in your life. I just think...” Pausing, Gavin gave his head a slight shake. “You know, when I met Haley, I had all these self-constructed barriers in place. Last thing I wanted was to let any of them drop or admit I wanted more. Safer that way, even though I knew the whole damn time I was only kidding myself. I did want more, but going there meant risking the safe, sane life I’d finally put together. And it could be that you’re not ready to hear this, but I sort of think that’s where you’re at. Where you’ve been for a while.”

Dylan let Gavin’s words settle for a minute, maybe two, before he shook his head in rejection of the whole damn concept. “You’re thinking too much,” he said. “I’m an open book. What you see is what you get, and I’m not pretending I’m happy. I actually am happy.”

“Yeah, well, took me a while to face the truth. Took me longer to do something about it.” Then, saving both men from the protracted, uncomfortable moment that was sure to follow such a speech, he flashed an easy grin and said, “I could use more coffee right about now. You?”

“Sure. Another jolt of caffeine would be great.” He’d use the opportunity to check in with Reid about the possible job opening at the pediatrician’s office. He hoped that one came through, because Cole had already sent him a text stating that Dee’s Deli was no longer in need of another employee. “After that, though, we’ll have to head out. Chelsea needs to find a job quick-like.”

If the doctor’s office fell through and none of his family had sniffed out any new leads, Dylan might have to do something crazy and...well, he didn’t know what he’d do, exactly.

“About that,” Gavin said, leading them inside and straight into the large open kitchen. “Haley called on the way here to share what’s going on, and we had an idea that might work for Chelsea and would solve a temporary problem for us. It’s probably not a permanent fix, but if she agrees and it all pans out, it would give her some breathing room.”

“Oh, yeah?” Interest piqued, Dylan handed Gavin his empty coffee cup and leaned against one of the kitchen counters. “Why didn’t Haley mention this suggestion earlier?”

“A couple of reasons. The main one is she wanted to talk with me, get my take, which shows you how far she’s come. In the past, she would’ve listened to her heart without considering anything else, jumped right in and let the chips fall wherever they landed.”

“Yup, that sounds like Haley.”

Gavin poured them each a fresh cup of coffee. After handing Dylan his mug, he said, “And I suppose the fact that I didn’t instantly consider a million ways the idea could go wrong shows how far I’ve come. Regardless, I think her plan has enough merit to consider.”

“I could use a plan with merit,” Dylan said. Maybe luck was with him and Chelsea’s problems would be solved today, after all. If so, she’d be set and he’d be able to...what? Forget he ever met her? Yeah. That. “And I’m definitely intrigued. Tell me what you have in mind.”

“Can’t. Not yet.” Gavin nodded toward the window. “Some of what led to this idea was meant to be a surprise, and it’s Haley’s call how much we give away. Best if we wait for her so I’m not stuck sleeping on the couch. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

Not much of a heads-up, but Dylan didn’t object. His thoughts returned to his earlier conversation with Gavin and his...theories, he guessed he’d call them. Wrong. Dead wrong, all of them. Dylan not only enjoyed his uncomplicated life, he friggin’ treasured it. He wasn’t faking a damn thing. He didn’t want
anything
he didn’t have.

Without so much as a millisecond’s pause after that thought, he cocked his head toward the window, stared out and his eyes instantly found Chelsea. She was smiling at Henry, who had gotten into a tug-of-war with the dog over a stick. Again, the sight of her and the boy warmed his heart, softened his defenses, and out of nowhere, all sorts of possibilities rammed into his brain.

Perhaps—and he’d have to give this a helluva lot more thought—he did want more, at that. But even if he came to that conclusion, that didn’t necessarily equate to Chelsea being the solution or that going after more was worth the inherent risk.

It likely wasn’t. Almost certainly was not. But what if...just what if it was?

Chapter Six

“I
want to go camping now!” Henry exclaimed, his little body vibrating with excitement. “We know how to build a tent and we can have a campfire and toast marshmallows and sleep in bags on the ground and look up at the stars and make wishes. Can we do that, Mommy? Please?”

“Um...sure. Someday, we can,” Chelsea said. While the past thirty minutes had been pleasant enough, her thoughts weren’t centered on camping with her son. The pressure to locate some solid footing kept her from fully enjoying herself. “Not today, of course. It’s far too cold out here for camping. Maybe this summer, though.”

Henry frowned and stubbed his sneaker-covered toe into the snow. “I know what
maybe
and
someday
means. We prolly won’t go camping this summer or ever.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that, sweetie.” Chelsea pulled her son close for a hug. “How about this? I
promise
we’ll go camping sometime this summer.”

“Really?” he asked, his face buried against her coat. “You promise?”

“I’ll even cross my heart.” He looked up to meet her gaze with his. She smiled and his blue eyes regained their brightness, and his expression of pure joy meant everything in the world to her.

“Don’t forget the marshmallows!”

“Camping wouldn’t be camping without marshmallows,” Haley said. She patted the dog, Roxie, on the head and nodded toward the house. “Let’s go inside and warm up. There’s something me and Gavin would like to talk over with you, Chelsea.”

“Oh, is this about watching Henry? Because I’m fine with the idea now.” Obviously, Haley was good with kids, just as Dylan had said, and Henry hadn’t had such a carefree experience in too long a while. She wouldn’t insist he come with her for a no-fun day when he could stay here and be a kid. “If you’re still willing to watch him, that is.”

“Of course I’m willing! But there’s something else I’d like to discuss.” Haley twisted a long strand of hair around one gloved finger. “Come inside, and I’ll get a snack for Henry and we can sit in front of the fire. And I’ll explain what I’m thinking.”

Chelsea pushed up her coat sleeve to glance at her watch. “I’m sorry. I really can’t.”

“Aw, come on. You can spare a few extra minutes for the gracious, lovely young woman who’s babysitting Henry, can’t you?”

If it weren’t for the lighthearted manner in which Haley had spoken, Chelsea would’ve taken offense. Teasing or not, though, Haley had put her straight in front of a roadblock. She couldn’t refuse Haley any easier than she’d managed to refuse Dylan. “Of course I can,” she said after a moment’s pause. “Sitting in front of the fire sounds nice.”

“Smart, giving in so fast,” Haley said, her lips quirking into a grin. “You wouldn’t know this yet, but I tend to get my way when something is important.”

Curious and confused—another state of affairs that seemed to occur on a regular basis with the Fosters—she reached for Henry’s mitten-covered hand and followed Haley toward the house, all the while trying to keep her anxiety at bay. Difficult to do, though.

Chelsea could almost feel the clock’s hands ticking away, and as each second passed, her hope for accomplishing any of what she had to do that day diminished. She should have put her foot down with Dylan to begin with, politely, and gone on her way as planned.

It wasn’t too late to change course. The second she could do so, she’d ask Dylan to drop her off at the Mountain Peaks Motel, which happened to be a somewhat easy walk to a decent number of Steamboat Springs businesses. She’d then pound the pavement for work and, if they were open, stop in at the couple of day-care establishments she’d found in the phone book.

Her hope was to establish a payment arrangement until she was more flush. A doubtful hope, most likely, but she had to try. She just kept telling herself that, somehow, everything she needed would come together by the time she met up with Henry at Foster’s early that evening.

Now inside, Haley pointed in the direction of the living room, saying, “Why don’t you take off your coat and sit down, Chelsea? I’ll get Henry settled with a snack and be right in.”

Pursing her lips, Chelsea let out a breath. “I’m really in a hurry, Haley, so—”

“I know you think you are, but I’m guessing that will change real fast.” With that, Haley tugged on Henry’s hand and led him away, leaving Chelsea to do as she was instructed.

Shrugging off her coat, she entered the living room and...stopped. Breathed again, and some of her tension drained away. What a room.

A large stone fireplace instantly stole her attention. It sat against the longest wall, directly in the center, with a welcoming fire already burning. Various framed photos were arranged on the cedar mantel, compelling Chelsea to walk closer for a better view.

All of them were of the Fosters, in various groupings and poses. Some outside, some in. The siblings, including Dylan, standing at the base of a mountain with skis leveraged on their shoulders and happy smiles on their faces. There was one of—Reid? Yes, that was Reid. She’d only spent a few minutes with him earlier, but she recognized the oldest brother’s serious, focused gaze—and a woman with vibrant red hair on what had to be their wedding day.

Next, she saw Cole—who greatly resembled Reid with the same dark eyes and hair—and a beautiful blonde woman, her head pressed against his shoulder and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Both couples appeared blissful. Moving on, Chelsea smiled at the sight of two tiny babies—likely only a month or so old when the photo was taken—curled beside each other, their tiny fingers entwined. Twins? Had to be. And, based on the strawberry blond fuzz covering the infants’ heads, she guessed they belonged to Reid and his wife.

Directly next to the picture of the babies was one of the senior Fosters, Paul and Margaret. They were both smiling, naturally, but there was an air of confidence and contentedness surrounding them that made it seem as if they’d always been together. Belonged together. Finally, Chelsea settled her gaze on a photograph of Gavin and Haley. This one held the centermost position on the mantel, and they were shown sitting outside amid a cluster of trees—probably somewhere on their property—with that silly dog in between them.

A sigh born of deep longing escaped from Chelsea’s lungs. What she’d wanted, had yearned for, her entire life existed right here in front of her.
Family.
In the Fosters. And due to a set of unforeseen circumstances, here she stood, surrounded by them. Surrounded by family.

Just not
her
family.

At best, she could call Dylan and Haley—maybe Margaret, as well—friendly acquaintances. She didn’t think her speedy introductions to Reid, Cole, Paul and now Gavin were enough to move them past the stranger phase, and heck, she didn’t even know the names of the women or the babies in the photos. Just the same, she suddenly felt as if she knew them all.

Or, perhaps, as if she were
meant
to know all of them, and that was why she’d lost her job, why her car had broken down and why she was even standing in this room now.

Right.
As if fate would go to such extreme lengths to ensure she’d meet Dylan and his family. Pushing the ridiculous thought out of her head, Chelsea retreated to the sofa, where she laid her coat over one of the arms and sat down.

She looked at her watch and her anxiety returned, twisting and turning inside of her, causing a wash of nausea. What was she doing here? She’d give Haley another five minutes, max, before she’d go in search of her, apologize and ask Dylan to take her to the motel.

Almost as if he’d read her mind, Dylan chose that second to enter the living room. Her mouth went dry and her heart picked up an extra beat. She ignored both annoying reactions and said, “Do you know what Haley and Gavin want to talk to me about?”

“Not really.” He sat down in one of the two overstuffed chairs across from the sofa and stretched his legs in front of him. “Gavin would only say so much without Haley’s input. It was—” a somewhat sheepish expression appeared “—rather frustrating, actually. I’m sorry about this. You must be champing at the bit to get moving.”

“I am.” No reason to say more. He already knew her position.

A quick, chirpy series of beeps sounded off, causing Dylan to reach into the pocket of his jeans. He retrieved his cell, slid his finger across the smartphone’s screen and, apparently disliking whatever it was he read, frowned.

“Everything okay?” Chelsea asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I’m good.” He tapped his finger on the back of the cell phone’s case. “If I suggest something, will you promise to listen before jumping to crazy conclusions?”

Oh, jeez. Now what? “I’ll listen, sure. I’ll even promise that whatever conclusion I reach won’t seem crazy to me. But I can’t promise that you won’t see it that way.”

Nodding, he tucked his phone into his jeans. “Finding a job might take more time than one afternoon, and I have the sense you’re out here on your own, with no one to call on for help.” He paused, exhaled a breath. “Is that a correct assumption?”

“I do fine on my own,” she said, declining to share any specifics. Why did it matter to him, anyway? “But I’ll find a job. Today or tomorrow or the next day.”

Please, please let it be today.

“I hope you do. Really. But in case you don’t, I’d like to offer you a loan—” he held up a hand, as if anticipating her response “—and I’d like you to consider accepting it.”

“Really? Dylan, I don’t think—”

“I’m not done, and you said you’d listen.” At her nod, he continued with “I keep thinking about Haley and how if she was stuck in a strange city I’d want someone to lend a hand.” His expression stilled, grew serious. “That’s all this is, Chelsea. I’ll feel better as a person knowing that you and Henry have enough stability to get back on your feet.”

She waited for, and expected, her defensive attitude to rear its ugly head. But it didn’t. Maybe comparing her situation to his sister helped, or maybe she was just too mentally worn down to argue. Oh, she wasn’t about to accept. Not now, hopefully not at all. But if everything went even more downhill and she had no other option, well...she’d consider it then.

“I might eventually have to take you up on that,” she said, managing to keep her voice even and clear. “For now, though, I’ll stick with my plan. This is my problem, not yours.”

“Didn’t say it was my problem, but—” Dylan leaned forward, minimizing the space between them, and said, “—I won’t argue, so long as you keep the offer in mind.”

“I will.” Silence loomed between them, so she added, “I promise.”

“Good.” His lips stretched into a smile. “It did not escape my attention, by the way, that you didn’t instantly jump to crazy conclusions. Thanks for that.”

“Kind of a weird thing to thank someone for, especially since you just offered me a loan, but you’re welcome.” Silence returned, but he didn’t retreat to his prior kicked-back position. His focus remained wholly centered on her, his gaze steady and sure. It was hard, but she resisted the strong compulsion to look away. “Um...is there something else on your mind?”

“Tons,” he said. “Most of which have to do with you. Like...where was your home before you decided to move here? Did you purposely look for a job in Steamboat Springs, or was the city the result of the job? Why leave home for a place where you don’t know a single soul? And the question really weighing on my mind the most, why are you alone?”

There had been a chance, if he hadn’t asked the last, she might have answered one or two of the former. Chelsea didn’t care if Dylan knew she was born and raised in Pueblo. Didn’t bother her all that much to admit she’d moved here due to the job and not the other way around. But asking why she was alone, with such surety that she was, indeed, alone?

She clasped her hands together and tried to turn her head, to escape from the penetrating, inquisitive scrutiny of his stare. But she couldn’t. Dylan’s final question hung in the air, solid and inescapable, leaving her caught as securely as a fly in a sticky spider’s web.

Even if her life depended on her giving a response, she did not know how to connect the words together in such a way that he—that
anyone
—could understand. And the concept of even trying was enough to tie her tongue into knots. What really did it, though, was the realization that she had become so obviously, unquestionably alone that this man had seen it for himself.

Swallowing past the thick layer coating her throat, she said, “Henry does that, too. He’ll ask ten questions without waiting for an answer from the first. Of course, Henry is four.”

Dylan’s gaze still didn’t waver, but his jaw tensed, and she couldn’t help but notice the muscle there begin to twitch. “You really don’t like giving away personal details, do you?”

She opened her mouth—to say what, she didn’t know—and closed it again. He didn’t say anything else, either. But they stayed that way, looking at each other in weighted silence, for what seemed like hours upon hours but was likely only a matter of seconds, before Haley and Gavin came into the room. And wow, was Chelsea grateful.

“Okay, I have Henry all set with some cookies and milk and, for when he’s done, a coloring book and crayons,” Haley was saying. “He should be content for long enough to have this conversation. After that, we’ll see where we’re at.”

“Thank you,” Chelsea murmured, her encounter with Dylan leaving her dazed. “I’m, um, flabbergasted he didn’t wheedle you into giving him soda with the cookies.”

“Oh, he tried.” Gavin sat in the other chair and motioned to Haley, who plopped onto his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “But I gave him his choices as cookies and milk, or he could have the soda, but then he’d get carrot sticks to balance the sugar.”

“Not a shocker he went with the cookies and milk,” she said. “Though, if you’d given him ranch dressing for the carrot sticks, he probably would’ve thought that was a fair deal.”

Again, a sense of familiarity stole in, as if sitting here with these people had happened many times in the past. As if it would again in the future. Rather than increasing her comfort, however, the realization felt almost threatening. Because it wasn’t true.