Dylan knew he sounded harsh. When Eve winced, the pain in her eyes palpable, he almost apologized. But if her thoughts and concerns were truly about Daisy, she had to understand the cold, hard facts.
“Fight me. Go ahead,” Dylan urged. “Maybe you’ll find a lawyer who will take your case. Most will tell you it’s a lost cause.”
“I won’t throw Daisy away,” Eve said, her words fierce and passionate.
“Who asked you to?” Dylan asked. “If you can’t be reasonable, be realistic. In the short run, a court battle, no matter how short and futile, would drain you dry, monetarily, and emotionally. Trials bring out the worst in people, Eve. Things are said on both sides that can’t be taken back.”
“You sound like an expert.” Eve didn’t look happy, but her emotions weren’t as heated. “How many custody battles have you fought.”
“None,” Dylan admitted. “I’m addicted to legal thrillers. When the Knights are on the road, I pass the long flights by reading. John Grisham is my favorite.”
“Is your point to confuse me?” Eve demanded. “What does Grisham have to do with Daisy?”
Dylan pulled the SUV to a stop near a sign that read in big, red lettering, COMING SOON. LUXURY CONDOMINIUMS. Milford Construction. Keeping his hands on the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead and picked his words carefully.
“What I learned from reading—what transfers to real life—is this. Actions matter. Right now, you want to fight to keep Daisy. Understandable. You made a promise to her mother.”
“Wanting to keep Daisy with me goes way beyond a promise,” Eve insisted.
“Your feelings are involved.” Dylan nodded. “But, Eve. If you love, Daisy, try thinking ahead. Instead of rushing into what can only become messy and unwinnable, play the long game.”
“Long game?” Clearly reaching the end of her patience, Eve frowned. “Are you talking about football? Because if you are, save your analogies. I don’t follow the game.”
“Football has a lot of upsides,” Dylan argued, always willing to play cheerleader for the sport he loved. Seeing Eve’s narrowed gaze, he realized now was not the time. “The long game refers to what is best for Daisy. Not today, but tomorrow and far down the road.”
“Okay.” Eve sighed. “Explain.”
“Who wins if we go to court? The lawyers who only care about taking our money. Me, because I hold all the cards. All of them,” Dylan said when Eve would have protested.
“Daisy needs to know I’m on her side,” Eve insisted. “If I give up—”
“Give up?” Dylan didn’t understand why Eve was stuck on the term. “You stuck with her when most people would have handed her over to the authorities and walked away without a twinge of guilt.”
“Taking care of Daisy wasn’t a hardship,” Eve said.
“If you care. If you love her. Do the hard thing, Eve,” Dylan said. “Don’t fight me. If you do, when Daisy is old enough to understand what happened, the anger we spew at each other will one day land on her.”
Eve closed her eyes. She took a moment, absorbing what Dylan said. When he glanced her way, he noted she was sad. But he saw something else. Something that made the pressure on his chest ease. He saw acceptance.
“You’re right,” she said.
“Music to my ears” Lightly teasing, hoping to remove some of the tension between them, Dylan smiled. Eve didn’t.
“The DNA results haven’t come back.” She said. “What if Daisy isn’t your niece?”
Thinking of the phone call he received from Erin Ashmore just a short time ago, Dylan considered sharing the information that the results were done and could come in at any minute, he decided to wait until he could tell her one way or the other.
“If Daisy isn’t related to me, what do you think should happen?” Dylan shifted, leaning closer to Eve—close enough to hear the catch in her breathing as he whispered, “Should I forget? Pretend we never met?”
“If you like,” she said as she swallowed.
Eve was nervous, Dylan realized. And not as immune to me as she pretended. Happy if not satisfied, he unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Forgetting you won’t be easy.”
“No?” Eve licked her lips, drawing Dylan’s gaze. “Why not?”
“Ask me another time.” Dylan smiled. Looking at her over his shoulder, he exited the car. “If you have the nerve.”
“Arrogant, twit.” Eve scrambled to open the door. Once outside, she rushed toward Dylan. “My nerves are steady as a rock. But I won’t ask. Never.”
Dylan unloaded the insulated bags from the back of the car. Handing the small pile to Eve, he lifted the rest. A group of hungry construction workers waited, beckoning them over.
“Okay,” Dylan said as he followed Eve. “But remember one thing.”
“What’s that,” she taunted.
“Never is a hell of a long time.”
▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲
CHAPTER FIVE
▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲
DYLAN WAS EARLY for his date with Eve. Or rather, their non-date. He considered the meal they were about to share to be a socially acceptable rite of passage in the early stages of any couple’s relationship.
Wisely, Dylan kept his opinion to himself. As far as Eve was concerned tonight was nothing more than two people with a similar interest—Daisy, to be exact—passing time together. If he mentioned words like date or relationship, she wouldn’t have agreed.
If Dylan even hinted that they were a couple what would Eve do? His vivid imagination conjured up a few scenarios. First, and the less extreme option, she would cancel their plans. Second, she would be so offended, so appalled at the idea of linking herself to him in a romantic way, she would joyfully peel a layer of skin from the most sensitive part of his body she could reach.
Because neither option appealed to Dylan, he didn’t make a big deal out of the evening. He told Eve that he picked the nicest, most expensive restaurant in the area for his dining enjoyment, not hers.
Dylan explained that donning a suit and tie was second nature when he went out to eat. Eve hesitated but didn’t question his reasoning.
Smiling, he
