“I...um... Thank you.” If she moved her head ever so slightly, his lips would be right there, in kissable range. Another saturating wash of warmth coated her skin, born from embarrassment and maybe some shyness at the concept. Anticipation lived there, too, and she had the thought that if Henry wasn’t in the backseat, she might go for it. Just to see who would kiss whom. “We should go,” she said. “Before your brother wonders what we’re doing.”
“Oh, I’m guessing he’d be able to figure that one out.”
Chelsea’s butterflies returned with a vengeance and her skin tingled with desire. Did that mean Dylan’s thoughts had mirrored hers? Or was she reading too much into his words?
The latter, probably, since the reason he’d leaned in so close was to praise Henry and not to tell her she looked beautiful or that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her or...well, any other wooing type of compliment. He liked her son, and that was that.
Within a matter of minutes, the three were walking toward the house’s entrance. The door swung open, and the same red-haired woman Chelsea had seen in the photograph on Haley’s mantel stood there with one of the babies in her arms.
“You are an angel,” she said to Dylan. “And you’ve brought two more angels with you. Thank you for doing this today.”
“Welcome, Daisy,” Dylan said, reaching the porch. He gave her a chaste, brotherly kiss on her cheek. “And in case you haven’t figured it out, this bouncy boy right here is Henry, and this—” he nodded toward Chelsea “—is his mother, Chelsea.”
“Nice to meet you guys. Come on in.” She stepped back so everyone could enter. “Reid is changing Alexander, and I just changed Charlotte. Both are fed and should be tired enough to go down for naps soon. If you’re lucky, they’ll sleep most of the time we’re gone.”
Chelsea smiled. “I wouldn’t mind if they stayed awake.”
“Shh. Be careful what you wish for,” Daisy said with a gentle laugh. “Or be more specific. One at a time is easy enough, but when they both get going...it can get chaotic fast.”
Daisy led them into the living room, which was painted a deep ocean blue. The shade was dark enough to avoid the description of vivid, while still emanating warmth and richness. That, along with the medium earthy-brown hue coating the baseboards and crown molding, gave the space a tranquil, stylish air. However, the sturdy, simple furnishings—the wood-framed sofa and chairs with plump, colorful cushions, the extralarge flat-screen television, unique decorative accents and, naturally, various baby paraphernalia, including two baby swings—added coziness and livability. It was, Chelsea thought, a room to relax in.
Henry beelined for the small crate of toys he’d spied sitting on top of the coffee table, skidded to a stop and glanced at Daisy. “Can I play with these toys?” he asked, pleasing Chelsea with his manners. He didn’t always remember. “Or are they only for the babies?”
“Of course you can play with them.” Daisy sat down on the sofa, Charlotte still in her arms. The baby didn’t look sleepy at all. She was too intrigued by the activity and new voices. “We brought them down from the extra bedroom for that exact reason.”
That was all it took. Henry knelt in front of the coffee table and started removing each of the toys one by one in order to decide which he wanted to play with first. Chelsea figured he’d be well occupied for a good hour. Maybe more.
“You two are making me nervous,” Daisy said. She patted the cushion next to her and looked at Chelsea. “Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Reid shouldn’t be long.”
Dylan took one of the chairs and Chelsea, following Daisy’s lead, sat beside her on the sofa. Charlotte cooed at her and then graced her with a big, gummy smile. “Oh, she’s gorgeous. And so sweet,” she said to Daisy. “Though I’m sure you hear that all the time.”
Chuckling, Dylan and Daisy exchanged a look. “Charlotte is gorgeous,” he said. “No question there, and she can be very sweet. She can also be...rather loud and I expect as she grows, she’ll have the same determined, stubborn-as-a-mule streak that Haley has.”
“He isn’t wrong,” Daisy said, kissing Charlotte on the top of her head. “This one has a set of lungs on her you wouldn’t believe, while Alex tends to be the quiet-as-a-mouse twin.”
“That’s because our daughter makes enough noise for both of them,” Reid said as he entered the room with Alex propped on his hip. “And however she turns out is fine with me, even if she does become a stubborn, willful carbon copy of her aunt Haley.”
“I’d rather that she be stubborn,” said Daisy, “than afraid to go for what she wants.”
“I agree wholeheartedly,” Chelsea said. “Better to take risks than...” She stopped. Breathed. Did she really believe it was better to put yourself on the line for something you wanted than it was to exist in a safe, if not ideal, world?
For Henry, yes. Without a doubt. For herself? She didn’t know.
“Settle for half of a life?” Reid filled the silence and saved her from an awkward moment. He positioned Alexander on his lap so the baby was sitting against his chest for support, and then swung his other arm over Daisy’s shoulders. “That’s the only way to do it, in my opinion. Some risks are necessary. In fact...”
Reid went on to share how he’d planned his wedding to Daisy, from beginning to end—venue, decorations, food, all of it—even though she’d repeatedly refused his proposal. As he continued speaking, Dylan’s jaw hardened and Chelsea guessed that muscle was twitching away—she just wasn’t close enough to verify—and his eyes sort of glazed over, as if he’d become lost in thought. Or perhaps he’d just heard the story so many times he’d zoned off.
“Fortunately,” Reid said, finishing the tale, “she showed up almost on time, having driven to California and back in less than twenty-four hours.” He grinned at his wife. “I heard that ornery dog of hers first, and bam, there was Daisy. A little wrinkled, but beautiful.”
Huh. Chelsea could not fathom such a show of love or having such strength of hope to go to those lengths. “That’s remarkable,” she said. “I’m glad for the happy ending.”
Henry had stopped playing with his toys to listen to the story as well, and she prepped herself for more of his rapid-fire question sessions. Surprisingly, he kept quiet.
“Where is Jinx?” Dylan asked, awakening from his coma. “She’s usually attached to my legs by now, begging for attention.”
“Pouting from being scolded,” Daisy said softly, as Charlotte’s eyes were heavy and starting to close. “You know how Jinx thinks she’s the mother of these babies, right? Well, she chewed one of the legs on Charlotte’s crib this morning when I was in the middle of changing Alex. Reid was in the shower. I think my beloved whippet was trying to eat her way through the crib to care for Charlotte herself.” Daisy trailed a finger down the side of Charlotte’s face. “I’m sure once Jinx stops pouting, she’ll run down here to visit. Probably after we leave.”
“Which we should do soon,” Reid said. “But before we take off, tell us more about you, Chelsea. We hardly had time to talk the other day at the restaurant. Dylan says you came to Steamboat Springs for a job that fell through?”
“Yes, a house-sitting job,” she said. “Unfortunately, we had a late start and my phone was out of minutes. When the owners weren’t able to contact me, they filled the position with someone else.” Chelsea inwardly cringed. Lord, that made her seem irresponsible and unorganized. “I guess you could call it a comedy of errors on my part. I didn’t know I’d lost the position until after we’d arrived. By then, it seemed...um, more financially viable to stay put.”
“And then your car broke down,” Daisy said. “That must have been awful. And terrifying. I’m so sorry you had such a poor welcome to Steamboat Springs.”
“It’s been a more difficult transition than I’d anticipated,” she said, “but honestly, it would have been a lot more difficult without Dylan and everyone else’s help. The entire Foster family has been...well, wonderful.
Meeting Dylan was a stroke of good fortune and I’m just...um...very grateful.”
Wow. She hadn’t meant to say quite that much, but her words were true and heartfelt. Without Dylan, she wasn’t sure where she and Henry would be now. Probably stuck in a miserable motel, surviving on peanut butter and crackers.
Dylan gave her an odd, inscrutable look and cleared his throat. Standing, he said, “Okay, you two need to get going. I know the drill, and I’ll show Chelsea where everything is.”
Reid passed Alex to Dylan before helping his wife to stand. “Want to put her in the crib yourself?” he asked, referring to the now fast-asleep Charlotte.
Daisy nodded and softly stepped from the room. Once she was gone, Reid motioned to a video baby monitor on an end table, saying, “There’s another in the kitchen.”
“Get your wife and get out of here,” Dylan said again with some humor. He wasn’t looking at Reid, though. He was making silly grins at Alexander, who was happily babbling in return. “Yeah, you know you’re adorable, don’t you?”
And the look of this strong, capable, all-male, sexy man cuddling his infant nephew with such sweet devotion melted Chelsea’s heart to mush. Yes, Alexander was indeed adorable. But Uncle Dylan was pretty darn adorable, too.
A minute later, Daisy returned. She kissed Alexander on the cheek and then curled her arm into Reid’s, saying, “We should go before someone starts crying and I feel guilty all over again. You’ll never get me out of here if that happens.”
“What’s there to feel guilty about?” Dylan said. “One baby is asleep. The other is content to be drooling all over my shirt. So have fun and don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”
* * *
Everything was absolutely not fine.
Within thirty minutes of Reid and Daisy’s departure, Chelsea and Dylan were up to their eyeballs in chaos. Both babies were crying at the top of their lungs, Jinx was whining almost as loudly because the dog wanted the grown-ups to make her babies happy and Henry was relentlessly begging his mother—whom he’d never before had to share with another child, let alone a crying infant—to play with him...now.
“Henry, honey,” Chelsea said as she paced the twins’ nursery with Charlotte in her arms. “I know you’re frustrated, and as soon as I can calm Charlotte, we’ll do something together. But right now, I need you to be patient and understanding.”
Dylan and Alexander were in the rocking chair, which generally worked wonders at soothing his nephew’s fussy periods, but not today. For reasons unknown to him, Alex was screaming bloody murder. He didn’t want a bottle. He didn’t need to be changed. He didn’t have a fever. He was just...ticked off and letting everyone within hearing distance know it.
All of the above applied to Charlotte, as well.
Dropping to the floor, Henry puffed his lower lip into a bona fide pout. “This was supposed to be fun. Those babies aren’t smiling and this isn’t fun, hearing them cry so much. I want to play on the swing set, like Dylan said I could. Or...or...I’ll go to the mall if you want!”
“You want to leave the babies here, alone?” Chelsea asked. “That isn’t like you, Henry. They need us, and their parents are counting on us to take good care of them.”
“I don’t wanna leave them alone. I just want them to stop being so loud!”
“We do, too, buddy,” Dylan said. “And we’re trying.”
Jinx made a strange yappy-yippy sort of bark, as if she meant to commiserate with Henry, and nuzzled her nose against the boy’s hand. The whippet—basically, a miniature greyhound—loved kids of all ages, though she disliked most full-grown men on sight. It had taken months of visiting before she’d warmed up enough to stop yanking at Dylan’s pant legs to tug him toward the front door, and several additional weeks until they’d officially become friends.
“She likes you, Henry.” Dylan patted Alexander on his back and kept right on rocking, which solved nothing. His nephew continued to cry. Chelsea wasn’t having any better luck with Charlotte. “Jinx has her own set of toys downstairs in the kitchen. Maybe you can bring a couple of them up here and play with her in the hallway? That should be a lot more fun than this.”
Henry bolted to a stand. “I’ll go get some.”
“Come right back,” Chelsea called as he raced from the room. Then, to Dylan, she said, “This has to stop soon, right? I mean, how long can two babies cry?”
“I don’t know, but...probably for as long as they want.”
In that second, as if in joint agreement, both babies increased the volume and the strength of their wails. Dylan stopped rocking and Chelsea stopped pacing.
“We have to try something else,” Chelsea said, determination lighting her gaze. “This is obviously not working. And the definition of failure is to keep doing the same thing while expecting a different outcome. So...what else have you got up your sleeve?”
“Ah...I’m open for suggestions,” Dylan said, recognizing the semisarcastic tone coating his words. “Sorry. Guess I’m frustrated, too. This isn’t Alex’s usual behavior, and even when Charlotte gets going, it’s not normally for this long. I honestly don’t know what to try next.”
“But you’ve known them their whole lives! And you like to fix problems, so—”
“Yup, I do, but who doesn’t? And yup, I have. But you’ve actually had a baby. I haven’t.” More sarcasm. It seemed Henry wasn’t the only person on the verge of a temper tantrum. “Sorry, again. But this is the first time I’ve taken care of them without Reid or Daisy being here, and as I said, this isn’t the twins’ typical behavior.” Rising to his feet, trying to conceive of a solution, he said, “Why don’t we try switching what we’re doing? Maybe walking will calm Alex and rocking will soothe Charlotte?”
“Doesn’t hurt to try, but I have a feeling—”
“I’m back and I brought a squeaky hot-dog toy and a ball that jingles.” Henry squeaked the plastic toy and shook the ball. The dog’s ears perked at both playtime noises and dashed to Henry’s legs, whining and leaping toward his hands. Smiling now, Henry waved the toys near the dog and said, “You wanna play with these?”
“Looks like she does,” Dylan said. “Why don’t you save your ears and take her into the hallway? Maybe if she’s not making so much noise in here, the babies will quiet down, too.”
Nodding, Henry left the room and Jinx followed. Whew. Two fewer unhappy souls to worry about at the moment. “Hopefully, that will keep them occupied for more than a minute,” Dylan said, walking to where Chelsea stood. As soon as he was within spitting distance, Alex bobbed his fuzzy head toward Chelsea, and lo and behold, his cries slowed down. “Well, look at that. Seems he’s smart enough to want the pretty lady in the room instead of the grouchy uncle.”
“Um. I don’t think so.” Chelsea brought Charlotte closer to Alex so she could see her brother, and bam, her cries slowed, as well. “My goodness. They want each other, Dylan.”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it?”
In silent accordance, they put the babies in one of the cribs so they were lying next to each other, and stood and watched and waited. Within the first minute, their cries completely disappeared, replaced by gaspy breaths of air as they calmed themselves down. Whether it was instinctive or purposeful, Dylan didn’t know, but within the next minute, their hands were touching and within two more, both babies were at peace and sleeping.
Wasn’t that something?
“I’ve heard twins have a special bond,” Chelsea said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Based on this, I’d say we’ve just proven that’s true.”
“They’re remarkable, aren’t they? Now that they’re not screaming.”
“Oh, they were remarkable when they were. We just didn’t know what to do for them. Those poor babies, being saddled with us as caregivers.” A soft, quiet laugh escaped, and she angled her body toward his, her eyes sparkly and her hair loose around her face, somewhat of a mess, and again, he couldn’t say if it was instinct or if he’d just been waiting for th
e proper moment, but he couldn’t resist. Didn’t want to, either.
“Come here,” he said, his voice gruff and full of need. “Please?”
Whether it was the please or the tone in which he’d spoken, he had zero idea, but she did as he asked and inched herself closer. That delicious, intoxicating scent of hers wove around him, and without wasting another second, he grasped her arms and pulled her to him. He had to kiss her. The thought of not doing so was impossible. “If you don’t want to be kissed, say so now, because I’m warning you, I’m less than a second from—”
“Do it, then,” she said in a sultry-sweet sort of hum that stole whatever common sense of his remained. “Before one of those babies wakes up or Henry waltzes in or your brother and—”
He groaned and brought his mouth down to hers, silencing her instantly. Her lips were soft but demanding, sweet but searching, and the taste of her was enough to bring a man to his knees. And then some. Hell, if he could kiss this woman every day, he’d give her anything she asked. The sun. The stars. That friggin’ car with a trunkful of diamonds and gold nuggets.
Anything she wished, he would make it hers. Just for her kisses.
She moaned—a light, airy, barely there type of sound—and his blood grew hotter. His desire became more profound. His need more desperate. Spreading his palms on the small of her back, he pressed her slender body tighter to his and deepened the kiss. All the while wishing they were somewhere else. Somewhere more private. Somewhere they couldn’t be interrupted and he could pull her sweater off over her head and feel the heat of her bare skin against his.
“Dylan,” she mumbled, breaking their contact. Her hand went to her hip. “I’m vibrating.”
Odd way to describe the sensations the kiss had brought forth, and that she’d done so without batting an eyelash made him chuckle. “Vibrating, huh? I’d say that’s a good thing.”
A fiery blush trickled into her cheeks. She pulled her cell from the pocket of her jeans. “I meant...um...yes, that, too, but I have a phone call.” Glancing at the display, her brows rose in confusion. “I should... I need to take this. Can you go see what Henry’s up to?”
Dylan's Daddy Dilemma (The Colorado Fosters Book 04) Page 13
