Carrying the pizzas and accompanying snacks, he made his way up to the house and pushed open the door, pausing at the threshold to listen. No raised voices, which was a promising start.
And then he heard his babygirl’s laughter, loud and bright and happy, and the knots in his stomach immediately loosened. Regardless of what happened between him and Ethan, at least Sam’s relationship with her son was intact, which was the most important thing.
Shutting the door behind him, he strode toward the kitchen where he found them seated at the table, each with a beer inhand. And judging by the slightly glazed look in his Little girl’s eyes, it wasn’t her first.
If they’d been alone and he’d come home to find her sneaking drinks,especiallyin the middle of the day, he would have taken the beer from her and given her a very stern lecture about following the rules. And as soon as she was sober enough, she would have gone over his knee for another reminder about the importance of obeying her Daddy.
But they weren’t alone, and Ethan was already watching him with a mutinous expression, as if daring him to step one toe out of line.
Fucking hell, this was complicated.
Deciding that for now discretion was indeed the better part of valor, he placed the pizza boxes on the counter along with the drinks and chips. “Lunch is served.”
Ethan’s gaze flicked toward the pizza and back again. “No thanks. Not hungry.”
Temper sparked in Dylan’s chest, but he did his best to smother it. “That’s fine. How many slices do you want, Sam?”
Looking more alert than she had when he’d first gotten home, Sam shifted in her seat, her gaze flicking nervously between them. “Um, I can get it.”
“I’m already up. What do you want, babygirl?”
He deliberately used the endearment to remind her that even with everything that had happened, even with her son sitting at her kitchen table, she was still his babygirl and he was still her Daddy. As far as he was concerned, nothing had changed between them in that regard, and he was going to continue taking care of her just like he’d been doing since she’d first agreed to be his.
Pink blossomed on her cheeks, letting him know his message had landed. “One of each?” she asked, her tone slipping into that of a hopeful Little girl and he had to bite back a smile.
“Of course. Do you want to eat at the table or are we going to continue our movie marathon?”
In his peripheral vision, he saw Ethan narrow his eyes, and he swore he could feel the weight of his friend’s judgment sitting heavy on his shoulders.
“Ah…” Judging by the way Sam was still looking between them, she’d picked up on it as well. “The table is fine.”
He wanted to push. They’d had a plan for the day and he knew she’d be disappointed if they didn’t finish their movies. But he was already treading on thin ice, so he simply nodded and turned away to pull two plates down from the cabinet. He slid one slice from each box onto her plate, then made her a cup with the soda he’d picked up just for her and plenty of ice, just the way she liked it, and carried both over to the table.
“Thank you, Da… Dylan.”
The color on her cheeks darkened adorably and he had to fight back a chuckle as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re welcome, babygirl.”
Ignoring the weight of Ethan’s stare on him, he made his own plate and drink before joining them at the table.
What the hell was he supposed to talk about? All of the questions that came to mind felt too “stepdad” coded, even though they were exactly the questions he would have asked under any other circumstances.
Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how he looked at it—Ethan didn’t seem to be suffering from any form of indecision.
“So, when exactly did you decide you wanted to fuck my mother?”
“Ethan Samuel!”
All right. Apparently they were just going to get it all out in the open. It was for the best, probably. Carefully chewing and swallowing the bite he’d just taken, Dylan set his pizza down andmet his best friend’s gaze head on. “Pretty much the first time I met her.”
That same fury from earlier sparked in Ethan’s eyes. “So you were just, what, pretending to be friends with me to get into her pants?”
“Ethan,” Sam hissed, shooting him a heated glare.
Dylan didn’t take his eyes off Ethan. What they had, what they’d shared over the last six years was too important not to look him in the eye. “No. Our friendship is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I should have been honest with you about my feelings for your mom from the start.”
“And what, exactly, are those feelings?”
“I love her and plan to spend the rest of my life making her deliriously happy. If she’ll have me, of course.”
