Page 103 of Breaking Emily's Rules
“Sierra’s taking a nap. I can make you lunch. It’s no big deal.”
“And if I were an invalid, I’d let you.” He propped his crutch on the kitchen counter, keeping the weight off his ankle as he reached for a paper plate.
“And you say I’m stubborn.”
“You are.”
“Right back at you, buddy.”
“You want to make me lunch, go ahead. I’ll do these dishes.”
“No, Dylan, I was going to do those.” Molly sidled up next to him. The man was crazy. Certifiable.
“I used to load the dishwasher with Sierra on my hip. This might actually be easier.”
Either she let him do it, or she’d be forced to shove him out of the way, which wouldn’t help his ankle any. With a big sigh, Molly made him a turkey sandwich and put it on the table just in time for Sierra’s cry. Molly rushed into the bedroom and found Sierra with one leg over the rail, a big smile of triumph on her face. The girl was a climber for sure, with no fear.
“No, sweetie, don’t do that. Mommy will get you out.” They would need to transition Sierra to a child’s bed and soon.
“Dylan, she did it again.” Molly called out to him.
“What did you put down this sink?” Dylan yelled back.
Not exactly the flow of a good conversation. Molly rushed back to the kitchen, Sierra toddling behind.
“What’s wrong now?”
“The sink is stopped up.” He hopped back to the table and sat down to his sandwich. “I’ll take care of that after lunch.”
“You will not. We’ll call a repairman.”
“Daddy!” Sierra said and climbed up his leg.
Dylan skillfully made sure she avoided his bad leg and settled her into his lap. “I can’t afford a repairman. I’ll do it myself. It’s not rocket science.”
“You’re supposed to be recovering from a compound fracture.” Why were men so damned stubborn? Why did Dylan have to act like being helpless was a curse for the feebleminded?
“I’m feeling a lot better.” He took a bite of his sandwich and offered Sierra a bite.
“But Violet said to keep you off your feet. She’ll kill me twice if she finds out I let you do this.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He narrowed his eyes, like the subject was irritating him.
She didn’t want to make him mad, but she would distract him if that was what it took. Distraction worked wonders for Sierra, and maybe it would work for Dylan. If she had to take her clothes off and parade around in front of him, that was what she’d do. It might even be fun.
A few hours later, it looked like the work would be done for her because, like she was in on the plan, Sierra wouldn’t leave Dylan’s side for hours. He had to sit with her and watch two episodes ofDora the Explorer, followed by the one-thousandth viewing ofFrozen.
Finally, it was bedtime and Molly gave Sierra a bath and put her to bed. It was only eight, but she was ready to go to sleep with Sierra. First, she had to make sure Dylan was still watching TV on the couch.
No Dylan. When she walked into the kitchen, his toolbox lay on the floor beside the sink.
“Oh, hell no.” Molly ran to the sink, put her back to it and blocked it. “No way.”
Dylan limped over to the sink. “Get out of my way and stop being ridiculous.”
Molly didn’t budge, which meant Dylan stood directly in front of her, meeting her gaze. In his eyes, she read a resoluteness and intractability that pissed her off.
“I’m not moving.”
