Page 21
It’s official—this day is shaping up to be a complete disaster.
6
CASH
EVERLY FOLLOWS MY MOM INTOthe backyard while giving me the cold shoulder.
She has plenty of reasons to be upset with me, starting with putting her in this predicament. I have a tendency to dive into situations without evaluating the potential repercussions of my actions, and I suspect I’ll face the fallout when we’re alone later.
The last thing she wants is to pose for photos with my family and pretend we’re in love, especially when she’s upset about me not bringing up the acquisition sooner. As soon as I suspected she might not be aware of it, I should have addressed it. To hell with the merger’s confidentiality rules. I should have put Everly first. I won’t make that mistake again.
Once we get to the back deck, Mom and Harrison leave us to help Mike and the photographer with arranging a couple of wooden benches in front of an ivy arch on the property’s edge.
Everly and I stand side by side as Marlow comes out of the house dressed in a bright blue summer dress and silver sneakers. Her golden-blonde hair falls in waves to her waist, framing her distinct, mismatched eyes—one blue, the other green.
She moved in next door to Dylan a year and a half ago, and he didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat. Everything changed when his long-term nanny quit, and Marlow stepped in to help care for Lola. It didn’t take Dylan long to fall for Marlow, and after three months where she lived abroad, they moved in together and recently got engaged.
“Look who finally showed up,” Marlow teases me.
“It’s good to see you, Mar.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder in a side hug.
“You must be Everly.” Marlow extends her hand to Everly, who accepts it with a small smile. “I’m Marlow, Dylan’s fiancée, and that’s our daughter, Lola.” She motions out into the yard, where Lola is running, chasing after their dog, Waffles.
“Waffles stole my headband again,” Lola shouts in our direction.
Marlow adopted the Australian Shepherd/Corgi mix with comically large ears from an animal shelter before she moved to Aspen Grove. She felt an instant connection because he also has mismatched eyes—a combination of one brown and one blue.
I laugh when I spot the three tiny furballs with floppy ears trotting closely behind Lola, yipping with excitement.
Dylan slings his arm around Marlow’s shoulders and tugs her close.
“I can’t believe you’re keeping the whole litter,” I say with a hint of amusement.
Marlow recently started volunteering at the local animal shelter, and a couple weeks ago, someone brought in three Aussie-Corgi mix puppies they found on the side of the road. Instantly reminded of Waffles, she knew she had to take them home with her. What started as an offer to foster them quickly led to her adopting all three.
“Yeah,” Dylan grumbles, but his tone changes when he glances down at his fiancée with affection. “Marlow doesn’t want to separate them.”
“They’re part of our family, and I won’t abandon them,” she declares. “Who else would love them like we will?”
“I’m sure Cash and Everly would.” Dylan smiles at us. “What do you say, lovebirds? Do you want an adorable puppy as a wedding present? Consider it therapy to bring you closer when the honeymoon stage is over.” He winks at me.
Everly fixes him with an icy stare. At least we can agree that Dylan’s joke isn’t funny. The last thing we need is to add an untrained puppy to the mix.
“Dylan, tell me you did not just try to pawn off one of our dogs.” Marlow swats him on the chest.
“I’m sorry, sunshine.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “I was just messing around. They’re not going anywhere,” he promises.
Dylan might not be enthusiastic about sharing his home with three more furballs, but he’s smitten with Marlow. He would do anything to make her happy, even if it means being the owner of four energetic dogs.
“Let’s hope you have better luck training them than you did with Waffles,” I taunt, shooting him a playful smirk.
“Hilarious,” Dylan responds dryly.
“I thought so.” I grin triumphantly, squaring my shoulders.
Everly glances between us with a confused look.
“Waffles wasn’t trained when I adopted him,” Marlow explains to Everly. “Dylan made it his mission to whip him into shape, but Waffles gave him a run for his money.”
6
CASH
EVERLY FOLLOWS MY MOM INTOthe backyard while giving me the cold shoulder.
She has plenty of reasons to be upset with me, starting with putting her in this predicament. I have a tendency to dive into situations without evaluating the potential repercussions of my actions, and I suspect I’ll face the fallout when we’re alone later.
The last thing she wants is to pose for photos with my family and pretend we’re in love, especially when she’s upset about me not bringing up the acquisition sooner. As soon as I suspected she might not be aware of it, I should have addressed it. To hell with the merger’s confidentiality rules. I should have put Everly first. I won’t make that mistake again.
Once we get to the back deck, Mom and Harrison leave us to help Mike and the photographer with arranging a couple of wooden benches in front of an ivy arch on the property’s edge.
Everly and I stand side by side as Marlow comes out of the house dressed in a bright blue summer dress and silver sneakers. Her golden-blonde hair falls in waves to her waist, framing her distinct, mismatched eyes—one blue, the other green.
She moved in next door to Dylan a year and a half ago, and he didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat. Everything changed when his long-term nanny quit, and Marlow stepped in to help care for Lola. It didn’t take Dylan long to fall for Marlow, and after three months where she lived abroad, they moved in together and recently got engaged.
“Look who finally showed up,” Marlow teases me.
“It’s good to see you, Mar.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder in a side hug.
“You must be Everly.” Marlow extends her hand to Everly, who accepts it with a small smile. “I’m Marlow, Dylan’s fiancée, and that’s our daughter, Lola.” She motions out into the yard, where Lola is running, chasing after their dog, Waffles.
“Waffles stole my headband again,” Lola shouts in our direction.
Marlow adopted the Australian Shepherd/Corgi mix with comically large ears from an animal shelter before she moved to Aspen Grove. She felt an instant connection because he also has mismatched eyes—a combination of one brown and one blue.
I laugh when I spot the three tiny furballs with floppy ears trotting closely behind Lola, yipping with excitement.
Dylan slings his arm around Marlow’s shoulders and tugs her close.
“I can’t believe you’re keeping the whole litter,” I say with a hint of amusement.
Marlow recently started volunteering at the local animal shelter, and a couple weeks ago, someone brought in three Aussie-Corgi mix puppies they found on the side of the road. Instantly reminded of Waffles, she knew she had to take them home with her. What started as an offer to foster them quickly led to her adopting all three.
“Yeah,” Dylan grumbles, but his tone changes when he glances down at his fiancée with affection. “Marlow doesn’t want to separate them.”
“They’re part of our family, and I won’t abandon them,” she declares. “Who else would love them like we will?”
“I’m sure Cash and Everly would.” Dylan smiles at us. “What do you say, lovebirds? Do you want an adorable puppy as a wedding present? Consider it therapy to bring you closer when the honeymoon stage is over.” He winks at me.
Everly fixes him with an icy stare. At least we can agree that Dylan’s joke isn’t funny. The last thing we need is to add an untrained puppy to the mix.
“Dylan, tell me you did not just try to pawn off one of our dogs.” Marlow swats him on the chest.
“I’m sorry, sunshine.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “I was just messing around. They’re not going anywhere,” he promises.
Dylan might not be enthusiastic about sharing his home with three more furballs, but he’s smitten with Marlow. He would do anything to make her happy, even if it means being the owner of four energetic dogs.
“Let’s hope you have better luck training them than you did with Waffles,” I taunt, shooting him a playful smirk.
“Hilarious,” Dylan responds dryly.
“I thought so.” I grin triumphantly, squaring my shoulders.
Everly glances between us with a confused look.
“Waffles wasn’t trained when I adopted him,” Marlow explains to Everly. “Dylan made it his mission to whip him into shape, but Waffles gave him a run for his money.”
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