CHAPTER THREE

      IT WAS ANOTHER hour before Emmy heard the front door open, and by that point she was ready to climb the walls with frustration.

      Be conciliatory, she reminded herself. Do this for Pete and Ally. And Tyler. Even though you want to smack the man over the head with a wok, you have to be nice. At least for now. Make things work. It’s only for three months, and then he’ll realise that it’d be best if you looked after Tyler on your own. Come on, Emmy. You can do this. Smile.

      ‘Good evening. Is pasta OK with you for dinner?’ she asked when he walked into the kitchen.

      He looked surprised. ‘You cooked dinner for me?’

      ‘As I was here, yes. By the way, that means it’s your turn to cook for us tomorrow.’

      ‘Uh-huh.’ He looked wary.

      ‘One thing you need to know. If I get hungry, I get grumpy.’ She gave him a level stare. ‘Don’t make me wait in future. You really won’t like me then.’ Which was a bit ironic. He didn’t like her now, and he hadn’t even seen her on a really bad day.

      ‘You could’ve eaten without me,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have minded just reheating something in the microwave.’

      ‘I had no idea how long you were going to be, and I would’ve felt bad if you’d turned up while I was halfway through eating my dinner.’ She paused. ‘Do you really work an hour’s commute away from here?’

      ‘No. I work in Docklands. About half an hour away.’ At least he had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I had to finish something, first.’

      She blew out a breath. ‘OK. Take the lecture as read. We’re sharing Tyler’s care so, in future, you’re either going to have to learn to delegate, or you’ll have to work from home when the baby’s napping.’

      Hearing his godson’s name seemed to galvanise Dylan. ‘Where is he?’

      ‘Asleep in his cot.’ She gestured to the kitchen table. ‘Sit down. I’ve made a start on the rota, given what we discussed yesterday morning. Perhaps you can review it while I finish cooking dinner, and move any of the sticky notes if you need to.’

      ‘Sticky notes?’ He looked puzzled.

      ‘Because it’s a provisional rota. Sticky notes mean it’s easy to move things around without the rota getting messy. Once we’ve agreed our slots, I’ll write it in properly. I’ll get it laminated. And then we can use sticky notes day by day to make any changes to the rota—that way it’ll be an obvious change so we’ll both remember it.’

      ‘OK.’ He looked at her. ‘Sorry.’

      Dylan Harper had apologised to her? That was a first. Actually, no, it was the second time he’d said sorry to her in as many days. And, even though Emmy thought that he more than owed her that apology just now, she decided to be gracious about it. Be the bigger person. ‘It’s a bit of a radical lifestyle change for both of us. I think it’ll take us a while to get used to it.’

      He nodded. ‘True.’

      She concentrated on cooking the pasta and heating the sauce, then served up their meal at the kitchen table.

      He put the card to one side. ‘The rota looks fine to me. I notice it’s a two-week one.’

      ‘I thought that would be fair, giving each other alternate weekends off.’

      ‘Yes, that’s fair,’ he agreed. He ate a mouthful of the pasta. ‘And this is good. Thank you. I wasn’t expecting dinner. I was going to make myself a sandwich or something.’

      She knew exactly where he was coming from. ‘I do that too often. It doesn’t feel worth cooking for one, does it?’

      ‘Especially if cooking isn’t your thing.’ He blew out a breath. ‘I never expected to be living with—well, you.’

      He’d made that perfectly clear. He really didn’t have to harp on about it. ‘We’ll just have to make the best of it, for Tyler’s sake,’ she said dryly.

      ‘Agreed. How did you get on with the mortgage and the letting agency?’ he asked.

      ‘It’s all sorted. I’m letting my flat in Camden from Monday. You?’

      ‘It’s a short-term lease. Nadine has the house.’

      His wife. ‘Have you told her about this?’

      His expression said very clearly, that’s none of your business, and she shut up. No, it wasn’t her business. And he’d already said that nobody would be upset by him sharing a house and Tyler’s care with her.

      ‘I’ll go back to my place tonight to pick up the basics, and move the rest in over the next few days.’ He looked at her. ‘I assume you’ve done the same?’

      ‘Yes to the basics today, but I haven’t chosen a room yet. I was waiting for you.’ She grimaced. ‘I’m really glad Ally and Pete have two spare bedrooms as well as the nursery. I don’t think I could face using their room.’

      ‘Me, neither.’ He shrugged. ‘Which of the spare rooms I have doesn’t bother me. Pick whichever one you like.’

      ‘Thanks.’ Though it wasn’t the bedroom that concerned her most. ‘Can I use Pete’s study? I work from home,’ she explained, ‘and I need somewhere to set up my equipment. And that means a room with decent lighting.’

      She was glad she’d been conciliatory when he said, ‘That’s fine by me. I can work anywhere with a laptop and a briefcase. So you have, what, some kind of workbench?’

      It was the first time he’d ever shown any interest in her work, and it unnerved her slightly. She wasn’t used to Dylan being anything other than abrupt to her. ‘Yes, and I have a desk where I sketch the pieces before I make them. And before Tyler gets mobile I’ll need to get a baby gate fixed on the doorway. I don’t want him anywhere near my tools because they’re sharp and dangerous.’ She looked at him. ‘Are you any good at DIY?’

      ‘No. I’d rather pay someone to do it,’ he said.

      That was refreshing. The men she’d dated in the past had all taken the attitude that having a Y chromosome meant that they’d automatically be good at DIY, and they weren’t prepared to admit when they were hopeless and couldn’t even put a shelf on straight. Then again, she wasn’t actually dating Dylan. He might be easy on the eye—she had to admit that he was good-looking—but he was the last man she’d ever want to date. He was