Chapter 0084
Dylan’s eyes narrowed, and he scoffed. “It’d be wise to give up on something that will lead nowhere.”
“And how would you know it’ll lead nowhere?” Suzy shot back. “Maybe Mr. Claude actually appreciates my type. At least he doesn’t assume I’m up to something.”
Dylan’s expression flickered, but he said nothing more.
Instead, he opened the car door and firmly pushed her into the passenger seat.
Suzy didn’t resist, curious to see what he was planning.
To Suzy’s surprise, Dylan didn’t confront her or make any accusations. Instead, he drove her back to Bayview Heights. And as soon as they walked through the door, he turned to her and said, “Go make dinner.”
“Dylan, you need to get your head checked.”
He gave her a blank look. “Grace wants a home–cooked meal.”
Suzy was speechless.
Well, if Grace wanted it, she’d make a few of her favorite dishes.
As she stepped into the kitchen, memories flooded back from those three years she’d spent like a fool, cooking for Dylan with so much hope. She thought she was over it, but the ache that surfaced now surprised her.
Pushing aside the unwelcome feelings, Suzy got to work.
While she was slicing vegetables, she suddenly felt Dylan’s presence behind her. Startled, she accidentally nicked her left index finger, and before she could react, he reached out, taking her bleeding finger into his mouth.
Frozen in place, Suzy’s gaze locked on his face, now impossibly close. Her mind went
blank.
Dylan held her gaze, his eyes softening, an unspoken emotion flickering to the surface. But just as something seemed ready to break free, Suzy snapped back to reality.
She yanked her hand away and shoved him back. “Dylan, do you even realize what you’re doing?”
His actions were beyond irrational–downright unhinged.
Dylan’s gaze darkened. “Stopping the bleeding. Disinfecting.”
1/2
“You really are out of your mind! Saliva’s full of bacteria–you trying to give me an infection? Or maybe hoping I die of tetanus, just so you can take revenge for Anne?”
Her unsaid accusation hung heavy in the air, clear in her expression. Dylan shot her a sideways glance, then reached into the cabinet above and pulled down a white bottle of antiseptic. “I’m not nearly as twisted as you think.”
“But your intention is never good,” Suzy muttered, rolling her eyes.
She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of medication he was on. Not that it mattered whatever he was taking was his business, not hers. She had her own problems to worry about.
Clutching her no–longer–bleeding finger, Suzy headed to the living room and pulled the first–aid kit from under the TV cabinet with practiced ease.
As she prepared to disinfect the cut with iodine, Dylan’s hand reached over. “Let me.
Suzy turned her back to him. “I don’t need your help.”
Without a word, he grasped her shoulder, turning her back around and taking her hand firmly. “I wouldn’t bother if it weren’t for the fact that Grace is waiting on dinner.”
“Fine…” Suzy let out a sarcastic chuckle but didn’t resist. If he wanted to play nurse, so be it–bandaging with one hand was a hassle anyway. Though, his technique….
“Dylan, it’s just a small cut. Wrapping my entire hand like this is ridiculous.” She held up her left hand, now bundled up like a mummy. “Tell me, exactly how am I supposed to cook
like this?”
“I’ll cook.”
She blinked, thinking she must’ve misheard. “You know how?”
In three years of marriage, she’d never once seen him set foot in a kitchen. Well, she supposed never seeing it didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t–more likely, she just hadn’t been “worthy” of it.
Dylan pulled her up from the sofa without further explanation. “You say it, I’ll cook it.”
“Not interested.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Then what are you interested in? Claude?”
“Yes, I’m very interested in Claude-
She didn’t even finish the sentence before Dylan closed the space between them, silencing her with a hard, unexpected kiss.
