Page 57 of The Complication
“I’ll see what I can do,” Declan hedged.
“Ha!” I scooped up our plates as I rose from my chair. “For that, you get to clean up Little Miss and check her diaper while I tackle the kitchen.” There was no way in hell I was leaving a mess for Chef Donovan and Franks to discover. I felt lucky that he’d allowed me to use his kitchen at all. This wasChef Donovan’s domain, and he was ready to rain hell on anyone who invaded it.
“I think I got the better end of that deal,” Declan stated as he wiped Joy’s face off with her bib and lifted her from her high chair. Before I could turn to the sink, Declan leaned in close and kissed my neck. “Thank you for a wonderful meal.”
A flush stole through me and goose bumps swept along my arms. This all felt so good. So comfortable. So…right. I was twenty-seven and until recently, living a very freewheeling life. I hadn’t been worried about settling down and creating a family. But this moment soaked into my soul like water into the parched earth baked by the endless summer heat. I hadn’t expected to love this so much.
Declan slipped away with my daughter, and I cleaned up the disaster area I made of the kitchen. As he returned with a clean child in his arms, I was pushing the Start button on the dishwasher.
“Are you ready for the grand reveal?” I asked as I took Joy into my arms. I didn’t miss the fact that Declan seemed reluctant to let her go.
“The parlor is ready? I thought it would take another week.”
“Well, Joy is back in daycare a few days a week, and that really helped to free up some time for me.”
Declan stopped walking and turned, his brow deeply furrowed and his frown a heavy slash across his face. “Do you need more help? Is Franks not?—”
“Whoa!” I held up a hand, stopping those words right there. “Franks is not a babysitter or a nanny. While I don’t mind him and Donovan babysitting occasionally for date night, it is not his responsibility to care for Joy during the day. He has plenty of other things he needs to get done for you.” I paused and narrowed my eyes at him, making sure that he was listening to what I was saying.
“Okay.” The word was low and mumbled. So fucking grudging it was adorable.
“Plus, daycare is good for Joy. She needs to socialize with other people and children her own age.”
“But she’s so young.”
“Do you honestly think she can’t tell the difference between you and me? Or me and Franks? Of course she can. It’s good for her. Educational. Besides, Molly went through a lot of time, research, and effort to find the right daycare. I won’t toss that aside after she secured a spot there for her daughter.”
Declan’s frame still had yet to relax as he stared at Joy tugging on my hair. “And you think she likes it there?”
“Yes. She doesn’t fight when I hand her over and the only time they reported her fussy was during a bad teething day.”
His big hand cupped her head, and she leaned into his touch as she gazed up at him. A giant toothless grin spread across her face and drool dribbled down her chin. Such a happy child, and she adored Declan so much. Something about his large, quiet presence always left her smiling. Did he feel safe? Comforting? Maybe both.
“Okay. Sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for. You worry about her, and that makes me happy.”
“I worry about both of you.”
“Well, no more worries. Come see what I’ve done,” I said, switching gears to continue marching through the hall to the foyer and the front parlor, which still had a big white sheet draped across the doorway. “I’ll let you do the honors.”
Declan stepped up and grabbed two handfuls of the sheet. He carefully pulled until the tape securing it to the wall gave way and it drifted to the floor.
“Oh…wow…” Declan breathed as he stepped into the room. I dragged my feet, following at a much slower pace so he could have time to take in all of the room.
The walls were a variety of greens with hints of brown and gold, creating the feel of being inside a sunny meadow in summer. With Franks’s help, I’d swapped some furniture from other places in the house so that this room had only a white wingback chair and a simple white sofa set by a wooden coffee table that resembled a tree stump. I’d even removed the curtains from the three floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the lawn, adding to the feeling of being outside. Interior design was not my forte, but it all seemed to work well with the mural that covered all four walls and the ceiling.
“This is beautiful. Even more impressive than I could have imagined.”
Heat surged through my chest, and I moved closer. “I’m so glad you like it.”
“Love it. I love it,” he corrected. He spun to me, his expression intense. “Could you paint my home office next?”
“Really?” I gasped. I had thought to tackle another little used room that was out of the way.
“Yes. I love this, but I’m never in here. I can’t enjoy it every day. Paint my office next. I’m in there all the time. It’s important that I can look up and see your art.”
“Well, I’ve got something to help with that.” I strolled to an easel that was covered in a white sheet. With Declan’s help, I carefully lifted the sheet away to reveal a painting I’d sneaked in each morning prior to working on the mural.
