Page 64 of Dylan
“Oh yes, Iesha was pregnant before ye all left. I remember her being so excited for baby number two. She and Donald planned to tell everyone once …” She cuts off and her cheeks turn pink.
Dylan clears his throat and changes the subject. My heart swells as he tries to protect both our feelings at the same time without making it painfully obvious.
I have a great time as we spend the morning with his mom. The cookies are as delicious as they were when we were little. We play cards and have easy banter before Athena or Kara—as she insists I call her, since I’m family—serves us lunch.
I’m a little sad when we have to leave. Kara seems to be too. I promise to come by again and bring Ciarán along next time. I leave feeling like I’ve learned another side of Dylan.
A side I’m falling for. He’s such a loving son. It’s clear to see how much he adores his mom and how much she loves him.
“I loved seeing you with your mom.”
“She was on her best behavior,” Dylan says.
I laugh. “She’s sweet. She didn’t have to send Ciarán cookies and the rest of lunch.”
“You’re family. She will always take care of the both of you. Watch out.”
He grabs my arm and pulls me into him right before I step into dog poop as we walk to the car from his family’s home. I look at the pile and frown. There’s another dried spot a few steps away.
“Ugh, does anyone around here scoop up after their dogs?”
“Nope, not at all,” he chuckles.
Lacing our fingers together, he then maneuvers me toward the car. I laugh to myself as he opens the door for me, and I realize he doesn’t drive the car he promised to Ciarán anymore.
“What’s that look about?” he asks as I climb into the car.
“If I said I liked this car, would you give it to me?” I tease.
He shrugs. “Do you want it?”
“No.”
He winks at me and closes the door to round the car and climb in behind the wheel. I watch him closely as I take in his every move. Dylan is so comfortable in his skin. He moves like a well-trained fighter in and out of the ring.
I love how his T-shirt clings to his skin. I lower my gaze to his thighs and my mind goes to his naked body and the tattoo on his right outer thigh.
It’s two pairs of boxing gloves. A smaller pair on top of larger ones. It seems like they’re hanging from strings. The artwork is mind blowing. They’re 3D and so realistic.
“I can feel your eyes on me,” he murmurs as he pulls to a stop at a stop sign.
He turns to glance at me. That smile does it to me every time. I reach to brush my finger over his lips. He pulls my thumb into his mouth and sucks on it, then twirls his tongue around it.
“You’re hard not to stare at,” I say breathlessly.
“You’re hard not to taste. Ciarán has strength training today. Booker picked him up and took him to the gym. You want to do a little shopping or go see a movie or something?”
“You have a five-thirty meeting. We should head into the gym, but I’ll take you up on the movie some other time.”
“Cool, I’ll have Book drop another car off for me tonight. This one is yours.”
I gasp. “Dylan, it was a joke. I don’t want your car.”
He shrugs. “It’s already yours.”
Dylan
A smile comesto my face as Ciarán comes running into the kitchen at my place. We just got in and I’m washing my hands to start dinner. Ciara is sitting at the island as she texts on her phone.
