“My turn, Daddy.”
“NO. THIS ISN’T RIGHT.” DYLAN tugged on his hair, then waved his hand over the set of plans he was studying.
The architect sighed. “I’ve done everything you asked, Dylan. Can you explain what’s wrong?”
Dylan huffed a sigh. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
I shifted in my chair, my lower back feeling achy. I studied my husband and looked around the large office.
This was the Dylan I knew the least. The place I disliked the most. In the city, he became the Dylan I first met. Cool, removed—in control and exact with what he wanted, and how he wanted it.
No one but those closest to him saw the real Dylan. Warm, tender, loving, and patient to a fault. Nothing fazed him when it came to our family or our life. He was an amazing father, a good friend, and the sexiest, most loving husband a woman could hope for in her life. That man disappeared when he donned his expensive, well-tailored suit and stepped foot in his company’s office. Businessman Dylan appeared, and he reminded me too much of the man Dylan had been when I had met him, the man hiding behind his pain. I knew it was his cover and the man I married was the real Dylan, but still, I didn’t like coming to Toronto.
The day he exploded into my life was one I would never forget. He made me feel things I didn’t think I would ever experience. Seth thought he was the coolest person ever, and Noelle . . . well, she adored him. She still did. He brou
ght forth a passion I didn’t even know existed within me, and I fell for him so hard and so fast, I didn’t know which way was up. The day he left, it was as if the world had lost its light. He couldn’t see his value—how special he was, or the non-material gifts he had to offer. He didn’t see how he completed us or made us a family—all he saw, all he thought, was he had nothing to give.
When he showed up, bearing too many presents, a beautiful ring, and the perfect gift of his heart, was the best day of my life. I didn’t care about his money, his company, or anything else. Only him. When he told me he loved me, my world was complete. That was the Dylan I knew—and loved.
I was looking forward to our flight home in the evening. I hadn’t really wanted to come this time, but since finding out I was pregnant, Dylan was loath to leave me, no matter how short the trip. He also wanted me to see the plans for the new house. The same architect had done the design for the new Edgewater Resort. I had jokingly suggested Dylan keep the name Sleepy Moose Inn, but I had been outvoted quickly. Edgewater Resort did suit the property. Dylan had asked John to draw up plans for our house on the bluff. But nothing seemed to work.
I sat up and sighed quietly, rubbing my back. But it wasn’t quiet enough. Dylan’s head snapped up, and he saw what I was doing, immediately hurrying over. In the matter of several steps, he changed into my Dylan. His cool manner melted, his eyes warm and concerned as he dropped to his knees in front of me.
“Hey, darling girl.” He reached around to rub my sore muscles. “Are you okay?”
“Just a little tired.”
He leaned closer, laying his hand on my stomach and rubbing it in tender circles. “Are you being kicked everywhere?”
I chuckled. “They’re both pretty active.”
“We’ll be home soon, and you’ll rest better. I know you don’t sleep well here.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come look at these plans. Maybe you can tell me what’s wrong.”
He pulled me to my feet and dropped a heavy kiss on my head, leading me to the table. I looked over the plans, which confirmed what I already expected. I smiled at John, who was looking at me for any clue.
“Do you think you could leave us with these for a bit?”
“Of course. Take your time. Why don’t you call me in a few days, Dylan?”
Dylan huffed out a sigh. “Fine.”
John shook our hands and left.
Dylan stood beside me, frowning.
I traced the design. “I’m surprised you don’t see it.”
His voice wasn’t impatient or upset but weary. “Don’t see what, Alex?”
“Look again, Dylan. What are you trying to make here?”
He looked over the drawings. “Your dream house, Alex. A home for us.”
I smiled up at him. “We already have that at the Gables. You’re trying to recreate your favorite parts into another house.”
He stared at me, then at the plans. “Oh my God, I am.”
I leaned against the table. “Dylan, we all love it at the Gables. Why are you insisting we move?”