I'd been aware of what was going on, but not close enough to him to comment on it. But now, he was inviting me into his personal space. It would be impossible not to see what Oakley was doing and ignore it.
But I was there to watch Lilliana. Dalton wasn't one of my clients. He wouldn't want me to psychoanalyze him, and it wasn't my place.
I didn't have much to move, just clothing and books, and the room was already furnished. When I pulled up to Dalton's house, he was standing with Shep on the porch as if they'd been waiting for me.
Shep moved past the driver's side door. "Pop the hatch. We'll get the boxes."
I clicked the button for him, then grabbed my purse and duffle bag from the front passenger-side seat.
The guys brought in the boxes, stacking them in the guest room.
Shep dropped three on the floor with a huff. "These boxes are heavy. What are you moving, bricks?"
"Books," I said.
Dalton frowned. "There're no shelves in here though."
"That's okay. I can leave them in the boxes." I opened the closet door. "You can put them in here for now."
Shep stacked the boxes on the floor.
"I can build shelves for you," Dalton said.
"That's not necessary," I said, but Dalton had already left the room, probably to get another load of my stuff.
Shep stepped back, his gaze on the stacks of boxes. "You should let Dalton build shelves. He needs something to do when Lilliana isn't here."
That coincided with what Dalton told me himself. He enjoyed working with wood, and it helped to keep his mind off Lilliana when she wasn't with him.
Shep nodded. "If Oakley gives him trouble, let us know."
I wasn't sure how I felt about that. "Will do."
When Shep left the room, I began hanging my clothes in the closet, thinking about what he'd said. Was it my place to keep his family informed about Oakley? Was I getting into something that would be more than I could handle?
I didn't like the dynamic between Oakley and Dalton. I suspected that Oakley was used to pushing him around to get what she wanted. I was disgusted by that because he enjoyed spending time with his daughter.
I unpacked my clothes, wanting the space to be neat before I went to bed. I didn't know when Oakley would drop off Lilliana again, and I needed to be settled in before that happened.
Dalton popped his head into the doorway. "I'm going to grill out for dinner. Is there anything you don't like?"
"Anything sounds good. Lilliana went back to her mother?" I asked carefully.
"Oakley's mom was over, and she wanted Lilliana there."
Did Oakley like to pretend that she was a good mom, having her daughter around when family was near but otherwise using Dalton as a babysitter? I shouldn't judge the situation because I didn't know nearly enough to draw any conclusions. But so far, I wasn't a fan of Oakley. She seemed manipulative.
Dalton was caught between her and wanting to be a good dad. I felt for him, and I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to keep quiet about how this arrangement was affecting him and his daughter. But I was here in my capacity as a nanny, not as a psychologist.
"Come down when you're done," Dalton said.
He was a good man. He wanted to be a good dad and provide a home for his daughter, which only made him more attractive. The more I learned about him and his situation, the more sympathetic I felt.
I finished unpacking my clothes and toiletries, leaving my art supplies in the boxes by my nightstand. I was already itching to get them out, but this wasn't my house. I wasn't sure that Dalton would appreciate it if I got out my supplies and started painting.
I was just a guest here. I wasn't paying rent for the room. Instead, it was part of my compensation package. I commanded a higher income as a nanny because of my degrees, and I needed the work to pay for my student loans.
Any time I thought about quitting my doctorate program to do something else, I was reminded that I should have something to show for all those student loans.
