8. Jessica

8

JESSICA

I t was late when I got back to the house.

Driving around while blaring rock music had made me feel less angry, but tension creeped back into my shoulders as I pulled up to the house. It wasn't like I could tell Dylan to replace Clara. It was one thing to be rude to me. It was something else to endanger Max. And my quitting wouldn't change that Clara didn't like Max.

I wished I had an answer to my dilemma. I mulled over what I could do as I returned to my room.

"You okay?" Dylan asked as I started to open the nursery door.

I turned to see him leaning against the door jamb to his bedroom. His dark hair was sticking out in different directions. His PJ pants hung low on his hips. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and even in a relaxed state, his physique was breathtaking. He even had those hip dips that accentuated the V shape of his abs.

I swallowed sand. How my mouth was dry, I didn't know. I should have been drooling.

I managed to nod as I tried to get my voice to work. "Yeah," I croaked. "Max?"

"He was overtired. He fell asleep pretty fast."

"I'm sorry if I woke you up," I said, not knowing what else I should say. Maybe I should have told him to go put a shirt on. His skin was distracting.

"I was waiting for you. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"You mean you wanted to make sure I was still working for you?" I joked.

He shrugged. "Possibly. You didn't get hurt or cut at all, did you?"

I shook my head. "No, nothing like that. I was just very frustrated," I admitted.

"Anything you?—"

"It's nothing, really," I cut him off. "I can handle it. I just need to figure a few things out."

Dylan nodded and ran his hand through his hair. That explained why it was such a mess. "If you ever need to talk, I'm a good listener."

He was also my employer. I didn't know how smart it would be to complain to him about someone else at work, someone who had seniority.

"Good night," I said as I stepped into the nursery.

I stepped into Max's room. He was such a sweet little boy. I adjusted his blankets because I felt like I had to do something and not just watch him sleep. I used the door that connected our rooms to get to mine. My room was dark and quiet. Too quiet.

I turned on the wave sound machine. We lived close, but not close enough to the coast for me to hear the ocean crash against the rocks. I clicked on my bedside lamp and changed. After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash up, I was back and climbing into bed.

My mind still churned with thoughts of this evening's situation, and then visions of Dylan leaning there in his night clothes, or what he was managing to wear. Those pants were barely hanging on to his hips. I should not have been thinking the things I was. I really hoped my dreams skewed more toward those possibilities than hanging onto the frustration that surrounded having to deal with Clara.

In the morning, I had no idea what I'd dreamed, if I had at all. Unfortunately, I remembered all of the previous day. Max didn't seem to be bothered at all. At least there was that.

Max had a low toddler bed with side rails to prevent him from falling out of bed. But they didn't stop him from climbing out when he was awake. If the door between our rooms was open, he would come into my room and climb onto my bed. He found my space to be fascinating. I didn't ban him from my room. That would only make him all the more determined to get into it. I had a rule that if the door between our rooms was closed, he would leave my room alone. Apparently, I hadn't closed the door, and I hadn't heard him get up. I didn't wake up until he climbed up on my bed and began jumping.

"Wake up! Jessica, get up." He said my name with a lisp when he did manage to say my name.

I groaned and opened my eyes. "Who are you?" I asked groggily. Adrenaline hit and I was immediately wide awake. Since there wasn't any imminent danger to Max having come and woken me up, I grabbed him and began tickling him.

We were giggling and tickling each other when Dylan burst into my room. "There you are!" He looked half panicked.

"What? Is everything okay?" I grabbed Max and held on.

He squirmed out of my grasp and launched himself at his father. "You weren't out in the nursery, and Max wasn't in bed."

"We were just having a tickle battle to wake up," I said as if that was perfectly normal. I wasn't going to admit to sleeping in, or that Max had to come wake me up. "Are you ready for breakfast already?"

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and got up. "I'll get Max ready right away. Come on, time to get dressed."

Dylan didn't say anything, he just stood there. He was freshly showered and dressed. He smelled good. I really had slept in. My hair had to have been a horrible nest of bed head since I hadn't braided it the night before.

"Give us a minute. Come on, Max, time to get dressed." I grabbed Max around the middle like I was running a football down the field for a goal. He giggled and only squirmed a little as I carried him into our giant shared closet. I got him dressed in record time.

Dylan was still waiting there when I opened the door and let Max out.

"You're not dressed," Dylan said. His voice sounded a little rough around the edges.

I looked down at myself. I was in my pajamas, a tank top and a pair of shorts. I tugged the front of the neckline up and crossed my arms. Maybe Dylan hadn't noticed that my nipples were at attention under his gaze. "Not yet. I had to get Max ready."

"Get dressed and join us for breakfast." It was a command, not a request. He swept up his son and stormed out of the nursery.

Well, crap. The understanding man from last night clearly had time to think about everything. I got dressed and headed to the dining room to get lectured on whatever it was I had done wrong.

"What are the plans for today?" Dylan asked after I joined him and Max for breakfast. He waited until I filled my plate with eggs and sausages from the chafing dishes before he began talking.

I shrugged. We didn't have a schedule. Every day, we pretty much decided as we went along. Except for visiting Mrs. Anderson. We tried to make sure that happened right before or after lunch, before nap time.

"We'll play outside for a bit since it's nice out. We'll visit your mother. There will be a nap in there," I explained.

Dylan nodded.

"I think you should make sure that Clara isn't around when you visit my mother."

I let out a weary sigh. He didn't have to tell me twice to avoid that woman. "We try to coordinate our visit with the time she's taking a break. It seems to work out the best that way."

Dylan nodded. He looked very serious. "Good, good. I think it's best that Max avoids her for a bit."

I swallowed hard. "You haven't had a chance to talk to your mother about last night, have you?"

"No, why?"

"I was just wondering if she had any insights into Clara's perspective about what happened. Look, Max wasn't near her. When she saw us, she just dropped the tray and began yelling. I swear I heard her call out to me to bring Max to see your mother. I never would have let him run down that way if she hadn't."

Dylan reached out and patted the back of my hand. "It's okay. I may not have seen what was happening, but I was right there, and I heard her too."

My teeth sank into my lower lip. I looked at him, hoping for more reassurance.

"You aren't having any other issues with her, are you?" he asked.

My eyes went wide. Clara was nothing but trouble for me and Max. "It's not my place to say. I have to learn to manage my own relationships with coworkers."

"It absolutely is your place, especially if she is making Max nervous or causing problems."

Nervous wasn't the word I would have used. Clara was terrorizing Max and me. But Dylan's mother wouldn't hear any of it. She adored Clara. And if her crochet hook went missing, she thought she must have dropped it. If the TV remote stopped working because there were no batteries in the back, Clara must have simply forgotten to replace the batteries while in the middle of getting it done. After all, Clara is always doing so much .

The first time the remote didn't have batteries, I accepted it as a reasonable excuse. But the remote's batteries had gone missing at least three times, making it so that Max and his grandmother couldn't sit and watch a show together.

I don't know why the two of them enjoying time together annoyed Clara so much, but it did.

"It wouldn't be so bad if your mother could come to us. But we have to go to her and into her space, which is also Clara's space. It's like she's being territorial. Maybe if there were neutral ground," I pondered.

"You aren't experiencing anyone else being territorial, are you?"

I shook my head. "Not at all. Lori has no problems with us in the kitchen, and we make sure to be out of the way when she is cooking and doing the meal prep."

"And you are out of the way when my mother takes her meals or needs to rest?" He stood and helped Max out of his booster chair.

I nodded frantically. "Absolutely. And she can tell us to leave if she's too tired. And she has."

"Maybe it would be better if you skipped today's visit. Let Clara have some time to cool off," Dylan said. His voice was husky and low like it had been earlier this morning.

He was standing right next to me. I could feel heat radiating from him. I looked up at him. Any fear I had that he was going to fire me evaporated when I looked into his eyes. I saw a heat there that caught me off guard. I couldn't tear my gaze from his. He reached out and gently touched my cheek.

I gulped. The electricity between us at that moment was intense.

His gaze bounced between my eyes and my lips.

What was happening? I licked my lower lip. Was he feeling this too, or was I making it all up?

Suddenly, Dylan lurched forward. He tore his gaze from me and twisted. He laughed and let out a heavy breath. Max had slammed into his legs and was hugging him.

"We can continue this conversation this evening," he said.

"Yeah, okay," I managed to say. That moment had somehow stolen my breath and set my heart to pounding.