“Perfect timing,” she says brightly.
She’s wearing her usual black chef gear, her blonde hair smoothed back into a tight ponytail. I grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it with water.
“I was about to shoot you a text to let you know Finn rented out his place. If you see a stranger lurking around over there, it’s not someone breaking in.”
“Yeah.” I take a long sip, forcing my voice to stay even. “He rented to Joshua’s father.”
Dylan pauses, her hand hovering over the blender as she turns to stare at me. “He’s here? Like…living here?”
“Just for the next month.” I give a casual shrug. “He wants to spend the holidays getting to know Joshua, especially since this will be his first Christmas without his mom.”
“Sounds like a decent guy,” she offers.
“He is,” I reply quickly, smiling. But it feels stiff, like I’m gritting my teeth.
Her eyes narrow, and I swear for a second she’s about to call me out for acting weird. Dylan’s been my best friend since we were in diapers. She can read me better than most people, my mom and sister excluded. But before she can pry, she glances at the clock and groans.
“I have to go,” she mutters, pouring her smoothie into a travel cup. “The family I’m working for this week needs breakfast before their precious ski day. Pretty sure they think ‘personal chef’ means ‘personal assistant slash nanny.’ I can’t wait for them to pack up and head back to Beverly Hills.” She slings her bag over her shoulder. “Counting down the hours.”
I shake my head, wondering how Dylan manages to bite her tongue around some of her uptight clients. She and her friend from culinary school started a personal chef business a few months ago, and while she loves parts of it, some of her clients treat her like hired help rather than a professional chef.
“Before I forget…” Dylan faces me, her car keys clutched in her hand. “Are you up for drinks tonight? I need to unwind after a week with these people. If I don’t get some bourbon in me soon, I might murder someone with a spatula.”
My instinct is to say no. This is one of the busiest weeks of the year at Holley Ridge, and I have a laundry list of things to do. But Parker has unequivocally told me I’m not allowed to work past eight tonight. And staying home means staying here.
Next door to him.
The thought alone makes my skin prickle.
“I could actually use a drink,” I respond. “Or ten.”
Dylan beams. “Perfect. I’ll see you later.”
Once she breezes out the door, I head up to my bedroom, strip out of my sweaty clothes, and step under the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the rest of the tension.
It doesn’t.
I close my eyes, letting the steam rise around me, but I still feel him. The press of his body. The weight of his hand. The husky edge in his voice.
A night out with Dylan is exactly what I need. A few drinks with my best friend. A distraction.
Anything to keep me from thinking about the man living on the other side of the wall.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DECLAN
The scentof garlic and rosemary fills the air, mingling with the sound of oil crackling in the pan. I move through the kitchen with the kind of precision I’ve always found comforting. Not because I’m an expert cook. Far from it. But I’ve always liked the rules that come with cooking.
Steps. Timers. Predictable outcomes.
In a world full of chaos, it’s something I can control.
And control is exactly what I need right now. Something to take my mind off Claire. A reminder of my purpose for being here. To build a relationship with my son.
That’s why I invited him over for dinner tonight. To spend some time getting to know him better.
And to push away all thoughts of Claire.
