“Well, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” His lips curve up at the corners.
I drill him with a warning look. “You know what.” I’m not playing this game with him.
He takes a step toward me, and I fight myself not to take a step back. He strides toward me like a hunter stalking his prey, and my heart slams against my rib cage in nervous anticipation. Dillon stops directly in front of me, leaving only a tiny gap between our bodies. Heat rolls off him in waves, crashing into me and almost taking my knees from under me. “Like I want to strip that pretty dress off your gorgeous body and worship every inch of your skin with my lips and my tongue?”
My cheeks sizzle as I stumble away from him. “Stop it. You can’t say that to me.”
Slowly, he drags one hand through his hair, grinning as he maintains eye contact with me. “We both know you’d love me to do it, but we can keep pretending. You know how determined I am when I want something, and I want you. I can keep this shit up for months.” He leans in close again, still grinning. “Years, if it comes down to it.”
I’m calling bullshit on that. Dillon is not known for his patience even if he has surprised me a lot these past few months. Saliva pools in my mouth as liquid lust rushes to my core.
I like sex, and I miss it.
I know I could ask Dillon to fuck me, and he’d happily do it, but I just can’t do that to Reeve. Which I know is ridiculous, because Reeve is gone and I’m going to have sex with someone else at some time, but I just can’t go there yet.
“Why are you here, or did you just make a house call to annoy the shit out of me?”
He chuckles, rubbing a piece of my hair between his fingers. “I came to tell you I’m taking East for ice cream after school.”
“Like hell you are,” I hiss, swatting his hand away.
He narrows his eyes at me. “We talked about this, Vivien Grace. I’ve been telling you for two weeks, and I’m not listening to any more of your bullshit excuses.” He lowers his face to mine. “Just so I’m clear, I’m not asking permission. I called here as a courtesy because I know you will freak the fuck out. I am taking our son out for ice cream. I will bring Leon with me. I will message you when we get to the ice cream parlor and message you when we are on the way home.”
Acid crawls up my throat, and bile swims in my stomach.
“Or you could come too?” he asks, a hopeful tone to his voice.
I immediately shake my head. Being seen out with Dillon in public is a recipe for disaster.
“I thought as much,” he says as he walks toward the corner of the room, bending down to retrieve a bag I hadn’t noticed before. “You are not going to sit around this house, pacing and panicking while East and I do something perfectly fucking normal.” Walking back over, he hands the bag to me. “I want you to work your magic. Create something amazing. Make a new dress so you have something to wear when I finally convince you to come out to dinner with me.”
I open the bag, gasping at the pretty silk material. It’s a gorgeous rich blue with purple and white floral prints all over it. “Where did you get this?”
“In a sewing shop,” he deadpans. “Where else do you think I got it? I hardly magicked it out of my arse.”
“There is no need to be rude or crude.”
He smirks, opening his mouth to say something dirty, no doubt, but I clamp a hand over his lips to silence him. “Do not say whatever it is you’re about to say. Thank you for the material, but Easton isn’t going.”
He nips at the skin on my palm, and I yank my hand back. Before I know what’s happening, he’s backing me up against the wall. “Sweetheart, I already told you this isn’t a negotiation.”
“But—”
Now it’s his turn to silence me with his hand. I glare at him, and he chuckles. “Be grateful it’s not my mouth.” He winks, and I squeeze my thighs together. “Listen up, Hollywood. I love Easton. He’s my son, and I know he’s the most precious thing in the world to you because he’s all that for me too. I will guard him with my life. Nothing is going to happen to him. I promise.” He removes his hand, darting in to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Trust me. Please.”
I stare into his stunning blue eyes and nod. “Bring my baby home to me safely.”
“Always.” Without warning, he bundles me into his arms. “I know you’re scared, but it’s going to be fine. This needs to happen. You know it.”
After Dillon leaves, I head into my sewing room for the first time since Reeve and Lainey passed.
I try.
I really do.
I work on some dress designs, but I can’t concentrate. I can’t stop thinking about Easton and Dillon out there in the big bad world. Surrounded by paparazzi and assholes who think it’s okay to stick their noses into our business. Briefly, I contemplate hitting the vodka, but it’s only four o’clock in the day, and it’s a habit I don’t want to start. Instead, I pace the floor and panic, exactly what Dillon suspected I would do.