Success.
The doorbell rang as he fumbled under the sink for a detergent pod. Christian’s heart jumped to his throat.Keep it cool, man.Hallie was here for Isla, not for him. Even though the idea of having Hallie in his living space was setting off romantic notions in his brain.
Romantic notions?
Absolutely not.
Princess Pumpkin launched into another round of excited barking. Abandoning her bone, her feet slid on the hardwood as she raced toward the living room.
He started the dishwasher, the machine whirring to life with a swooping hiss. Then he wiped his hands with the towel hanging over the stove before leaving the kitchen.
“Stop it, Pumpkin,” he said exasperatedly, entering the living room. “Do you want to scare off our guest?”
The dog alternated between frantic barks and high-pitched whimpering, pawing at the front door like that would make it open.
Crossing the living room with wide strides, he picked up Penelope’s shoes, the jacket he’d discarded upon entering the house, and a few random toys scattered on the floor. He dumped the pile into Isla’s arms. “Take these upstairs.”
“But Daddy,” she whined. “I wanted to open the door.”
Christian held up a finger. “Just toss them on my bed. We’ll sort through them later. Then you can come back down.”
She huffed as she stomped up the stairs. He cast a tired glance at the ceiling, shaking his head.Just wait until she’s a teenager.
Another knock interrupted that unsettling thought. “Okay, okay. I’m coming,” he muttered.
Approaching the entryway, he pulled Pumpkin back, holding her by the collar to prevent her from accosting Hallie. But once he opened the door, his nerves deflated like a limp balloon.
“Geez, what took you so long?” Tyler asked, holding Will. “Pumpkin was about to have a conniption from barking so much.” He gave the dog’s head a good rub with his free hand. “Weren’t you, girl?”
Pumpkin went wild, sniffing and pawing at Tyler with short, happy barks.
Taking advantage of his friend’s distraction, Christian stepped one foot onto the porch to check for Hallie. Besides his Highlander in the driveway and Tyler’s Honda parked behind it, the only other car in sight was a decades-old pickup belonging to the teenaged son of the neighbor across the street.
He came back inside and shut the door. “What’re you doing here?”
Tyler followed him further into the room. “I’m on my way home from picking this little guy up from daycare.” He bounced his son a bit, drawing a giggle from Will. “I figured it’s been a while since I’ve checked in.”
Christian worked hard to keep his eyes from rolling. It wasn’t abnormal for his friend to come over on his way home from work. But usually, he texted first. The unexpected visit put Christian on edge.
“So … what’s up?” he asked, trying not to let his annoyance show. Hallie would be here any minute, and he’d rather Tyler not be around when she arrived, though he didn’t stop to consider why the idea bothered him.
Tyler made himself right at home on the sofa. “I should ask you the same question.” He set Will on the carpet, and the infant scooted on his bottom toward the girls’ play kitchen set up underneath the front window.
Christian narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Like you don’t know? Three cakes? What’s going on with you and my sister?”
Christian almost groaned. Not the cakes again. He’d already spent most of Saturday night replaying how much of a fool he’d made of himself with that situation. Not to mention the cost of those cakes. He had no idea custom cakes were so expensive.
“I get it, my sister’s an amazing baker,” Tyler continued when Christian didn’t respond. “But no person in their right mind would order that many cakes for a six-year-old’s birthday party. And let’s not forget about how you offered to build her website for free…”
Hallie must’ve told him about that. Christian shrugged,attempting to play it off as no big deal. “She seems like she could use the support.”
“Uh huh. Sure.”
Christian dropped beside his friend on the couch. “Ty, we’re just friends. Not even friends. Acquaintances, really. Nothing more.”
Is that what you want to be, though?
