He pulls into a space on the street outside the library, killing the engine a moment later. I reach for the door to climb out, but he hits the button, locking them all.
“What are you doing?”
“When we’re in a car together, I’ll open your door for you.”
My mouth pops open, forming an O, and I blink slowly at him.
“Is that a problem?” He quirks a brow, and I snap my mouth shut.
“No,” I squeak out.
A subtle smile tugs up the corner of his mouth before those dark eyes drop to my lips and linger. “Good.” He rasps, slowly dragging his eyes back up to mine. Something warm blooms in my lower stomach at the way he just looked at me, the heat of it sparking against my skin like a physical touch, and as if he knows, his mouth breaks into a cocky kind of grin. The moment breaks when he climbs from the car and rounds the hood to open my door before he moves to the back to get Lily.
Once we get her in her stroller, Dean pushes her toward the doors to the library, which open automatically to let him in, and we immediately find the group. A couple of babies cry, and the smell of coffee permeates the air as a group of mostly women sit in the far corner, an arrangement of toys and blankets, and cushions set up in the middle of them.
I come to the library often, but usually during the quieter times in the evening, so seeing it this busy is jarring. But I push away the anxiety of the large group and walk beside Dean as we make our way there.
A woman I’ve seen working here steps over, “Are you here for the playgroup?” She asks, looking down at the clipboard.
“Yes, Sloane Reynolds with Lily Archer.”
“Oh, not married?” The woman flicks her eyes to me to do a once over and then dismisses me immediately. The question takes me off guard since, well… it’s the twenty-first century. But she said it loudly enough that it draws the attention of the rest of the group.
“She isn’t mine,” I grind out in answer, but it was apparently the wrong thing to say. The scowls thrown my way have my heart notching up in speed. So much attention is now on me, it’s making me sweat.
“Is there a problem?” Dean snaps suddenly, his voice a boom in the quiet library.
The woman pales, and I risk a glance at him to see why. He looks thunderous, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he waits for her to answer.
“Well,” She stutters, “These groups are for mothers as much as they are for the children. A village, you know? I’m sure you can understand.”
“No, I feel these groups are here to pass judgment on people they don’t know. Lily’s mother is out of the picture. Sloane wanted to provide an environment for my daughter outside of the house, but I can see she has made an error in judgment picking this one.”
“Sir, if you’ll just–”
“Let’s go,” Dean orders before turning around, every line of his body brimming with tension.
“Dean,” I chase after him, “Dean, wait!”
“We’ll find another one. Hell, I’ll ask Willow, she’s got a daughter around Lily’s age.”
“You could have just told her I was the nanny,” I suggest, my steps quick as I attempt to keep up with him.
“So, they could scowl at you some more?” He scoffs, “Fuck no.”
“I didn’t think it would be like that; the reviews are so good.”
“This is why I stay away from people,” He grumbles.
I couldn’t argue with that. We step out onto the street, but instead of heading back to the car, Dean starts to walk down the sidewalk.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Weare going for breakfast.”
“We are?”
“You were right,” He huffs, clearly still pissed, “She needs to get out of the house and see more than just the ceiling.”
