Chapter 20 Cherry

Chapter 20 Cherry

As I hung up my coat in the hall, I frowned. Everything was too quiet: no feet hurried to greet me as I arrived home. Where was Fern? Unease crawled over my skin. I’d been on edge since Dylan’s appearance outside my flat yesterday. Earlier, I’d been sorely tempted to call Lara to check everything was okay. But I’d fought back the tide of worry and abstained. After all, Dylan had asked whether Fern was his showing he had suspicions, but when I’d denied it, he’d shown only patience and tenderness toward me.

I shook away the soft feelings that surfaced at only the thought of him. I’d been firm with him I reminded myself. And rightly so. He wasn’t part of my life.

Just then, Fern’s voice sounded happily from the living room. She was playing. Everything was fine. She probably hadn’t heard me come in, that was all.

Slipping off my heels, I tracked into the living room and stopped. Fern and Lara sat amidst a treasure trove of toys. A dance mat was unboxed near the TV, pieces of Lego scattered the floor, and a doll’s head with hair the color of a rainbow caught my eye.

“What’s this?” I exclaimed. It looked like Father Christmas had visited half a year early.

Fern looked up from the Lego castle she was building, “Mom! The man who moved in across the way gave me them!” She grinned. “He’s so handsome and kind.”

I blanched, knowing exactly who she meant, even though the fact that he’d moved in across the way was a shock. Dylan was now living opposite me. My mouth went dry, and my stomach fluttered.

I did my best to hide the weird mix of feelings churning through me. Instead, I focused on educating my daughter. “I thought you knew better than to talk to strangers, Fern.”

I caught sight of our nanny Lara’s guilty and confused expression. I knew Dylan must have used his Alpha powers on her, just like Bert had. Anger simmered beneath my skin, and I knew I’d have to lay down the law more with him tomorrow.

But my daughter responded delightedly to my telling-off. “He’s not a stranger, Mom. He knew my name, and he said he was your friend. Isn’t it great that your friend moved here?” She got up to give me a hug before returning to her toys. “Maybe Bert will move here too, and then all your friends will be here like mine.”

Something about my daughter’s innocent comment had me choking up, and I excused myself, going to put the kettle on. It was then that our nanny, Lara traipsed into the kitchen and finally got her words out. “I’m sorry, Cherry. Fern ran ahead of me when we came back earlier, and by the time I got to the door, it was too late to intercept all the toys your friend had given her.” The poor young woman wrung her hands, and I knew it wasn’t her fault. It was Dylan’s.

“It’s okay, Lara. I saw Dylan yesterday. I should have mentioned he was in town. I guess it just slipped my mind after getting back from Seattle.”

Our nanny clasped her hands. “Oh, thank God! I’ve been kicking myself the last few hours and thinking you’d be angry.”

I shook my head and offered her a cup of tea, but she had dinner plans. After saying bye to Fern for the day, she headed off. That evening, I knew by how engrossed Fern was with all her new toys that there was nothing to be done with the gifts Dylan had foisted on her this time.

But, tomorrow, I intended to give Dylan a piece of my mind. I hadn’t been firm enough with him. That night, I fell asleep, practicing the things I fully intended to tell him when I went over to his tomorrow.

The next day found me up early. Still in my dressing gown, I set to brewing a strong pot of coffee. A knock sounded on the door.

Opening it, I was dumbfounded by the sight of Dylan, his arms filled with a breakfast tray and flowers.

“I figured you’re probably the continental breakfast sort of person these days,” he joked.

I forced my gaping mouth closed, then pulled the door almost shut behind me, anxious not to wake Fern. If she woke, this situation was going to get even more complicated. I tugged Dylan away from the door. In the middle of the hallway, I crossed my arms and fixed him with a hard look. “I can’t accept these gifts, Dylan. And I don’t want you giving any more gifts to Fern either. I told you, I’m with someone else.”

“You’re still not a morning person, are you?” He said with a crooked smile. “But then, you’ve probably not had your first coffee yet. Here’s a hazelnut latte.” He eyeballed the takeaway cup on the tray. I realized he’d stopped by the café opposite and remembered what I’d ordered yesterday.

I planted my hands on my hips. “I’m serious, Dylan.” I resisted the divine smell of coffee and syrup, as well as the hot buttery croissants and jams that taunted my shifter senses.

He shrugged as if unfazed by my expression and remonstrance. “So am I. After all, I’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve cooked for me and nourished me and our mating bond. It’s my turn to do the same for my mate now.”

The certainty in his voice and dark eyes had a shiver slipping down my spine, and I was suddenly aware that I was only wearing a silk negligee and a thin kimono robe. His domineering tone, clenched jaw, and dark, searing eyes had molten heat pooling in my core. I flushed, retreating back, determined that if I couldn’t tell him to go away, I’d damn well show him. I shut the door on him.

But, apparently, there was nothing I could do to discourage him. The next day I found a breakfast tray set outside the door again. I didn’t touch it. I refused to. Then, by the end of the day, it had been cleared away. But the next day, I found another offering of steaming croissants, butter, and jam awaiting me outside my door.

Early on the third morning, I’d had enough. This was madness. Flinging on some clothes, I pocketed my keys to the apartment, determined to be no more than ten minutes, and marched over to his house.

Pounding on his door, it was only a few knocks before Dylan answered.

Marching past him, I strode into his living-room before turning to stare him down.

“Just stop, Dylan. You’re wasting your time on me. I’m not going to change my mind.”

He set down the breakfast tray on his coffee table and turned to me, a steely determination settling over his face. “I’m not going to stop bringing you food and nurturing our bond.”

Infuriated, I argued, “That was seven years ago, for Nuu-Chah’s sake. We’re not living together anymore.”

His expression fell, and his eyes grew somber. “Something I’ve missed every day since you left,” he declared. “So, no, we’re not living together, but at least here, I get to see you, and am close enough to bring you food, that you don’t eat like the jackass I was back then.”

My lips turned down. “Did you just call me a jackass?”

He scowled. Peculiarly, the expression had my lips twitching with fondness.

Confusion flitted over his face before he said, “No, I’m calling you a saint for the way you put up with me back then.”

I couldn’t let it go, and keeping my expression deadpan, I said, “You definitely called me a jackass.”

As his scowl deepened, so did the wave of nostalgia that hit me. He used to scowl at me as much as he used to loom over me. I felt a surge of fondness for him and his actions. Tenderness for him streamed through me, with all the power that I remembered the bond between us having. It was the strength of that feeling that had me hurrying past him, away from his frown that somehow emphasized his handsomeness, and away from the mouth-watering scent of breakfast that I craved even more now. A feeling deep within me, from the power vested in Nuu-Chah, swam through me. It whispered to me that if I ate from the tray, it would nurture the mating bond between my mate and me.

***

It had been a week since Dylan had moved in across the way. I wouldn’t say I was used to it or that I’d found a way of co-existing with my ex-mate living so close by, but my shock had waned. It was Friday night, and as the weekend drew in, I decided it was time to have a break from work and cooking. Wanting a change of scene, I decided to take Fern and myself out for some food. As I noticed the breakfast tray outside my door had been cleared away, a smile crossed my face, and I mused that there was a very willing chef nearby.

I shook away the unruly thought. I, obviously, hadn’t eaten any of Dylan’s breakfasts that he’d left. I was hardly going to drop by for dinner at his place just because I didn’t feel like cooking. Besides, it was important to stay firm for Fern’s sake. I’d already explained to her when she’d asked when we’d next see my friend that I didn’t know. I’d had to explain that his arriving just like that had been wrong. I’d told her we’d had a falling out and that we had a lot to talk about before we made up.

Fern and I took a cab to Wedding, where I’d booked a table at a restaurant Carl had once taken me to. I’d called Carl last week and explained that I had a few things on with family stuff and that I needed a bit of space alone with Fern. He’d sounded disappointed but said he’d understood. The truth was, with Dylan opposite, I needed to get my head screwed on right before Carl, and I could move forward.

As Fern and I stepped onto the sidewalk, I felt as if I had conjured Carl from my thoughts, spying him at the table in the window of the very restaurant we were going to. But… a dark-haired woman leaned over the small, circular table between them planting a kiss on his lips.

I grabbed Fern’s hand, marching her off in the other direction. Getting out my phone, I called Carl. I didn’t expect him to pick up, but he did.

“Hey Hun, is everything all right?”

I almost choked but mastered myself. “Sure, I just wanted to hear your voice. How are you doing?”

“Good, thanks. Just working. No rest for the wicked, right?”

Sickness roiled through me. Wicked indeed. Fury and hurt twisted through me, but once again, I managed to contain it and said, “I’ll leave you to it, and see you soon, night.”

“Night, Hun,” he said, hanging up.

I dialed Lara next and managed to placate Fern with the change of plan, and I pretended to her that I’d just remembered a client’s dress that was being picked up from the store late. Fern prattled on about AJ West for a while, her favorite star that I designed for, while we wandered the square, waiting for Lara to show up.

I’d used the same excuse with Lara as I had on Fern, and our nanny offered to stay the night. I gladly took Lara up on her offer and watched her head off with Fern in a cab. Then, vibrating with anger, I strode right back to the restaurant and right to Carl’s table.

His charming smile slipped from his face as he looked up. Snatching the glass of red wine in front of him, I threw it in his face. “You lying snake!” I exclaimed. “It’s over. Don’t you ever come near me again.”

Marching out of the restaurant and into the night, I felt a sense of justice at having given the wicked philanderer his just deserts. But as I climbed into a cab and headed home, hollowness swept through me. I kept tasting bile in my throat as I thought of how close I’d almost come to moving forward with that good-for-nothing jerk.

When I got out of the taxi at home, I knew I should go upstairs and pretend that the “work” crisis had been averted. But it felt like too much effort. They were probably waiting for the pizza order I’d told them to get. I couldn’t stand the idea of trying to pretend that everything was okay when it felt as if my world was falling down. So, I lingered on the steps of my building, unsure about what to do or where to go.

“You know, it’s still quite cold at night in Berlin, even in summer.” Dylan’s voice sounded from behind me.

My lips twitched despite everything that had happened tonight. “So after only a week here, you’re an expert on Berlin’s climate?”

“What can I say? It’s been a very long week,” he answered.

I didn’t know if it was the number of shocks lately or if it was Dylan’s gentle, joking tone, but I wrapped my arms around myself and burst into tears.

In a moment, Dylan’s arms were wrapped around me. He held me until I stopped crying.

As I took a step back from him, my gaze crept up to my window. “Dylan, I can’t let Fern see me like this.”

“I saw Fern and your nanny get back,” Dylan said. “She’ll be fine with Lara for a while, right?”

I nodded, comforted by Dylan’s strong soothing voice and already missing the weight of his arms around me.

“That’s settled then, you’re coming to my house.”

And with that, I didn’t resist as he hugged me to his side, pulling me across the street.