Page 24 of Fall With Me
Her brows raise. “Wow. I think you’re the first guy I’ve met who cares what his cleaning skills are. But yeah, don’t worry.You’re a working single parent. I get it.” She holds up three fingers in a scout salute. “Promise, there is no judgment from me.”
I sigh in relief. “Thanks. See you in a few minutes.”
She smiles reassuringly at me. “See you.”
Chapter 11
Chloe
Dawson is a gentleman and doesn’t run any yellow lights, allowing me to follow right behind him. Shockingly, we pull onto a street only two down from my grandparents’ house. My duplex is half a mile from here.
What a small world.
Dawson lives in a cream brick rambler at the end of a cul-de-sac. He parks in the garage and I park in the driveway behind him. Taking in his house, I marvel at the mature trees on the green strip. In a month, those leaves will be a gorgeous color. Finn’s going to love jumping in the huge pile in November. The front flower bed is devoid of vegetation, only brown wood chips fill the space.
The house isn’t massive, but it also isn’t tiny. Overall, it’s nice and well maintained on the outside. The street is quiet, with beautiful mature trees everywhere. I’m pleased and pleasantly surprised. For some reason, I expected Dawson to live in something different. Maybe a newer development with more kids in the area? Or a townhouse.
Getting out of my car, I hesitate. Is it presumptuous of me to go into the house through the garage like Finn and Dawson, or do I go to the front door?
Standing by my Prius, I pretend to check for messages, ignoring the fact it feels like I’m right back in junior high, hoping I have someone to sit by at lunch on the first day of school.
“Chloe?”
I face Dawson, forcing a chipper smile. “Yeah?”
He thumbs over his shoulder. “Come on in.”
Way to be super obvious.“Right.” Clicking my key fob, I follow Dawson inside. We enter his kitchen and I stop in my tracks. Sure, there are dishes in the sink and crumbs on the counter, but that’s not what makes me pause.
It’s the kitchen design. The L-shaped cabinets are sage green with gold knobs. A white granite countertop, light wood floors, and beautiful pendant lights complete the look. I’m completely jealous. “Did you remodel or was it like this when you bought it?”
“What?” Dawson asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door.
“The kitchen. It’s stunning.”
He waves a hand through the air. “Oh, yeah. The previous owner remodeled the entire house. I wanted something already done since I don’t have time for home repairs right now.”
If the kitchen is this gorgeous, what do the bathrooms look like? I may need to take a potty break while I’m here to check it out. “It’s beautiful. And this isn’t messy at all. This looks lived in.”
“Yeah, that’s one way to describe it.”
Listen, I’m a neat freak. All my things have a place and everything needs to be in its place. Is Dawson like me? Does a small mess like a few dirty dishes and crumbs drive him mad? “I can help you clean real quick so you can relax and not stress about this while we work.” I can’t go to sleep or sit down to watch a show until the kitchen is spotless. It’s like ants are crawling along my limbs and my chest tightens. The only way to stop the sensation is getting the chore over with.
“Dad!” Finn hollers from the couch in the great room. “The show’s pulled up.”
“Go ahead and start,” Dawson says. “We’ll be in the kitchen for a bit.” Dawson looks at me. “A guest is not cleaning my house.”
“Why not? I’m the one who offered.” I move to the island, swiping crumbs into my palm. Holding my hands over the farmhouse sink, I brush the residue off. “Do you have a dishcloth you use for the counters?”
Dawson comes up beside me, grabbing onto my forearm. “Please stop, Chloe.”
“Sorry.” Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I’ll wait at the table.” Taking a giant step backward, I spin, heading to the dining room that separates the kitchen from the family room.
Dawson’s arm shoots out in front of me, blocking my path. He lets out a giant sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. This week’s been hard and I’m drained.”
How did I not read his expression right in the parking lot? I thought when I asked to come over, Dawson didn’t say anything because he was fine with it. But he never wantedme to say yes. My stomach turns sour.He doesn’t want me here.“I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re worn out. The last thing you need right now is a stranger in your home. We’ll talk tomorrow at the game.”
Dawson scrubs his hands down his face. “Don’t go.”
