“Just don’t abuse it,” Clay mumbled. “Being a sucker isn’t easy on me either.”
“I won’t. I’ll appreciate it and try not to twist you around my little finger every chance I get the way your mom and sister do.”
His eyes popped open and he glared down at her. “They do not!”
“They do,” she answered with a smirk. “But it’s cute, so this will be the last time I tease you about it.” She paused. “Except, now I have to know if your nieces and nephew do as well.”
“Oh, they definitely do. Why the hell else would I have spent hours upon hours making a rocking dragon for my nephew?”
“Makes me wonder what you’ll be like with our kids,” she commented before a huge yawn escaped. “I bet you’ll be a good dad.”
He didn’t respond but Dylan didn’t notice because she was already drifting off to sleep.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Five Days Later
“This is stupid,” Clay mumbled to himself as he sanded a shelf.
He glanced over to the table where his phone sat. Next to it was the small box he’d carved over the course of the week. Inside was something he wanted to give Dylan when she came back for good.
She’d been true to her word and had come to his house every day. But every night, she went home and it was driving him crazy. After their short time living together, he hated the distance that was now between them.
Today was it. She had to come home or he was packing a bag and moving in with her. Either way, she would be wearing his ring, too.
Shit. He hoped she would. As much as he’d like to act like a caveman, bonk her over the head, and drag her off to his lair, he wouldn’t do it.
That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t use every weapon in his arsenal to get her where he wanted her. Which was back in his house and in his bed every night. In his arms.
Since he wasn’t exactly getting anywhere on the shelf he’d been working on for the last three hours, Clay shut down the air compressor and set about cleaning up the shop.
It was Friday and he didn’t have any pressing projects for work. Only one stubborn wood nymph to deal with.
Once the shop was cleaned up, he locked up and headed into the house. He’d have a beer and a shower before he drove over to pick up Dylan from work.
He unlocked the back door to the house and beelined for the kitchen and that beer. He’d drink the damn thing in the shower.
Before he could open up the fridge, he heard a scraping noise from his bedroom, as though something heavy was being dragged across the floor.
His hands and arms developed a green tinge as he crept through the dining room and to the mouth of the hall.
There was another sliding sound, followed by a grunt. The sound was familiar, but quiet, so he couldn’t quite place it.
His boots weren’t completely silent on the wooden floor of the hallway, though the runner muffled them a bit.
Whoever it was in his bedroom didn’t seem to hear him though, because the sliding sounds and occasional grunts continued.
He halted just outside his bedroom door and stared in shock at the mess. Clothes, boxes, and other assorted detritus were scattered over every surface and piled on his bed. Some were his and some definitely belonged to a woman. A very small woman.
Suddenly, he knew why those grunts sounded familiar. Clay waited, biding his time, and pounced when he saw the shadow approaching the door.
Dylan screamed, long and loud, when his arms wrapped around her and promptly kneed him in the nuts.
All the air left his lungs in a single high-pitched wheeze and his arms fell from her so he could cup himself as he fell to his knees.
“Oh, God, Clay!” she yelled. “You scared the shit out of me!”
He wanted to apologize but he couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
