by Souders, Tia
“It’s a fair statement.”
“Still, it was uncalled for. Besides, the plan is to get them back into school.”
Silence settled over them for a moment before Blake cleared his throat. “Maybe talk to him about it? Don’t ignore it. Address it head-on, then give it time. I don’t know. What do I know? You don’t need to listen to me.”
Mel shook her head. “No. You’re right. Ignoring it sure hasn’t helped.”
They settled into silence. How long had it been since she sat there with another adult at her kitchen table, sharing a conversation like this one? It felt like forever. And it had definitely been forever since she talked with a man like this.
Her gaze settled on Blake’s mouth for a moment, and her heart gave a little kick.
“I guess I should be going,” he said, dragging her attention away from the fullness of his lips.
“Right. Yeah, you probably have plans. Sometimes I forget not everyone spends their evenings wrangling three kids and praying for the energy to make it to bedtime.” She chuckled and stood.
Blake followed, grabbing his leather jacket from the back of his chair. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I bet when you signed up for this, you didn’t think you’d be playing therapist, too.” She waved him away, lightheartedly. “Of course. Why would I not be okay?”
His eyes lingered on her face, as if trying to discern whether she was telling the truth. So she turned and headed for the door because the way he looked at her made it seem like he cared, and she knew he couldn’t possibly. No point in allowing him to see too much.
Opening the door, she leaned against the doorframe and watched him as he paused, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but the way he hovered almost made it seem like he didn’t want to leave, like maybe he wanted to stay. A stupid thought. Of course he didn’t want to stay. He had a soon-to-be-fiancé waiting for him. One who probably had perky breasts, tight abs, smooth skin, and no stretch marks. One that could carry a conversation that didn’t revolve around three four-year-olds.
“Uh, well, goodnight,” she said.
Mel offered him a genuine smile and pressed herself further into the doorframe until he tore his eyes from her.
“Goodnight,” he murmured, then hurried down the hall.
Once he was out of sight, she exhaled and closed the door.
Get a grip, Mel. He’s your manny.
MEL
EVERY DAY MEL CAME home, the atmosphere was the same as it was on Monday. Her apartment was no longer a disaster zone. She no longer paused outside her door, wondering what catastrophe she’d find. Instead, a new rhythm had developed in her tiny apartment. Together, over the course of a couple days, she and Blake had come up with a reward system that seemed to be working like a charm. Mel wasn’t sure why she’d waited so long to make a change, but with each passing day, her newfound routine with the kids and discipline became a little easier.
Maybe she’d just needed the push, a helping hand. Regardless, it was a breath of fresh air, a huge relief.
Thursday was no different as she came home to Blake and the triplets playing a game of Duck, Duck, Goose in the living room, the coffee table pushed aside for more room to run.
She settled her briefcase just inside the door and crossed her arms, watching as they played, amazed that her presence had gone unnoticed by the kids. Blake, however, offered her a quick wink, which made her stomach swoop, then hopped to his feet and chased Kinsley around their little circle.
Once Kinsley plopped back down without getting tagged, the kids finally noticed her, and she sat down with them and played for a few minutes before Blake had to leave. It wasn’t until she followed him to the door that she realized he seemed to be stalling for time.
Her stomach squeezed with the fear that something was wrong. “Is everything okay?” she asked, trying not to fidget.
Blake loosed a breath and shoved a hand through his hair. “Yeah. But there was something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He squinted as if nervous to ask.
Intrigued, she said, “Sure. What is it?”
“There’s this family event Saturday afternoon that’s supposed be really fun for kids. It’s all free. They’re doing sort of an inside carnival or something. They’ll have face painting, food, balloon animals, and games. I know it’s your weekend, but . . .”
Mel swallowed, and her pulse thumped. Was he asking her on a date?
No. He couldn’t be. That would be crazy. He had a girlfriend, one he was clearly devoted to, considering his presence there.
Still, her insides turned to molten rock as she tucked her hair behind her ears and murmured, “Yeah, okay. we’ll come.” She gave a little shrug, then stared at the ground, hoping for clarity on the context of their outing.
“Really?” He flashed her a wide smile that turned her insides to mush. “That would be awesome. Jen, my girlfriend, and her parents are hosting it. It’s kind of an annual thing they do, and they told me I should invite you.”
Mel’s hopes sunk, and she tried her best to keep the heat of embarrassment from her cheeks. Of course, it wasn’t a date or even a request as a friend. It was business, a way to verify with his girlfriend’s family that he actually followed through with their ultimatum and was doing a great job.
“Just tell me when and where,” Mel said, mustering a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, even while scolding herself for being an idiot.
“Great. It’s at her family’s hotel. They own the Garwood Inn and Suites, so it should be pretty nice.”
Blake continued on, talking about the event, but all Mel’s thoughts centered on only one thing. His girlfriend was a Garwood. As in The Garwoods of the Garwood hotel chain that owned properties all over the country, as well as right there in New York. They were loaded, beyond rich.
Mel glanced around her meager living room, suddenly self-conscious. Her apartment must seem like a hovel compared to the Garwoods way of life.
When she glanced back at Blake, she felt even more like a fool for thinking, for even a moment, he might have had the slightest bit of interest in her. He was dating a Garwood heir. She was probably lithe, beautiful, and polished with the glow only good money could buy. And childless.
Why on earth would a single man as handsome as Blake, with so much going for him, ever want someone like her? Someone with kids and baggage and an empty bank account.
Feeling foolish, she saw him out, then closed the door and sunk to the floor.
CHAPTER TEN
BLAKE
Blake tried not to think of Mel riding the subway with her kids. People did it all the time, of course. He never batted an eye at children on the subway before. Why should it be any different now?
But over the years, Blake had ridden the subway more times than he could count, especially before his B’s Bikes days, and he had seen enough in that amount of time to know that the subway was one way to get wide-eyed education on the melting pot that was New York City. Still, he swallowed the nagging worry down, knowing it was crazy. Mel was a grown woman who could take care of her own kids. After all, she’d survived four years on her own, hadn’t she? They’d be fine. It was a short subway ride, not a tour of some seedy neighborhood in the Bronx.
He arrived at Garwood Hotel and Suites in mid-town, dressed in one of his expensive suits, his typical attire when it came to social events with Jen and her parents. Still, he tugged on the bottom of his suit jacket as he entered the building, wondering why it felt tight on his skin, like it suddenly didn’t fit. He was well aware of the juxtaposition between how he looked now and when he showed up every morning at Mel’s place, casual in jeans and wondered if she’d notice.
He made his way into the giant ballroom and event center used for a variety of social engagements when he spotted Jen by the back. The event was to start in a few minutes, and it appeared everything was ready to go as he drew near.
Booths with lighted signs lined the
far end of the room, toting their goods. The sweet, cloying scent of fried food and sugary treats filled the air. Cotton candy, candy apples, kettle corn, corn dogs, and funnel cakes—everything you could want from an indoor carnival. In the center of the room stood a small carousel. It slowly turned, the colorful horses rose, dipping and diving into the air. Beside it was a fishing game, complete with a little river, with plastic fish and toy rods.
Blake grinned when Jen caught his eye. The kids would love this.
He came up on Jen, who was deep in conversation with a member of the setup crew. “Hey,” he said as he leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek, startling her.
After she finished her instructions, she turned to Blake and smiled. The red sheath dress she wore fit her slim form to perfection. Giant square-cut diamonds Blake knew were real, glittered at her ears, making her blue eyes sparkle. Her red-painted lips parted into a wide smile as she hooked her arm in his and led him toward some makeshift booths on the other side of the room. Her long legs stretched as they walked, the click of her Louboutins echoing on the gleaming marble floor.
Blake’s stomach squeezed as he glanced down at her, wondering what Mel would think of her when it was so clear Jen came from privilege just by looking at her. Then he shook away the thought. Did it matter?
“I want to show you what we’ve been so hard at work on,” Jen said, beaming. “Of course you have the carnival stuff over there, but here we’ve set up so many wonderful things for the people in attendance.” She pointed to the first tent, flanked with balloons. “We’ve got a representative here from Section 8 housing. He’s going to help anyone who needs it fill out applications and search for available places. Then we have someone here from Medicaid. We’ve got people from Wiseman Employment Agency that helps find temporary and permanent job placings. We have someone from WIC—”
“Wait,” Blake interrupted. Stepping in front of her, brow furrowed, he eyed his surroundings with fresh eyes. “I’m confused. I thought this was just a family event geared toward kids, not . . .” he trailed off as the sign on the booth across from him caught his eye—FREE vision, hearing, and blood pressure screenings.
“It’s a charity event for underprivileged families.” Jen frowned and shook her head as if confused. “I thought you knew.”
Blake dragged a hand over his face. “No. I didn’t realize.”
Underprivileged families? Crap. Mel had no idea, and if she kept her word, she was about to walk in any moment.
He imagined her face when she walked in, bombarded with information from people running the booths. What would she think? Would she take it personally, think Blake was trying to tell her something? Would she be offended?
People started to trickle inside the double doors. The event had officially started, and Blake wished he could crawl in a hole somewhere and hide.
He exhaled, unsure of what he should do, then plucked his cell from his pocket. “Hold on a second,” he murmured, then turned away from Jen.
He listened as the phone rang, urging Mel to pick up. He’d tell her it was canceled, anything for her not to come and feel . . . he had no idea how she’d feel. For how hard her situation must’ve been, she had managed to build a life for herself and her kids. Her apartment, though small, was filled with love and joy. She worked hard at a job she seemed to genuinely like and had finally been rewarded for it. Money may be tight, but she had made it work. Over half of New York was in her position. But she wasn’t underprivileged. He had a feeling Mel may have little, but what she had in abundance was pride—as well she should for all that she’d accomplished on her own—which meant he had to stop her from coming.
When her voicemail picked up, he muttered an oath under his breath, just as someone cleared their throat behind him. He braced himself, hoping for Jen, but when he turned, it was Mel’s amber eyes he saw.
He lowered his phone to his side, tucking it back into his pocket, and swallowed. “Uh, hi.” He weighed his options. He could tell her the truth, that he had no idea and hoped she’d understand, he could make an excuse and whisk her away, or steer clear of the tents and pray she didn’t notice.
Mel’s gaze raked over him before it shifted to Jen beside him. “Am I underdressed?” Then, in a smaller voice, she added, “I thought it was just an indoor carnival.”
“Oh, of course. You’re fine.” Jen stepped forward and waved her concern away. “I have to dress up since I’m helping to run the show, and Blake, here,” she glanced adoringly up at Blake with a little smile, “he doesn’t know how to do casual. I think the only time I’ve seen him in jeans and a t-shirt has been when he’s working on a bike.”
Blake frowned for a moment as he glanced down at Jen. What was she saying? Of course she’d seen him in jeans. Hadn’t she? He mentally calculated the last year in his head, all their encounters. While it was true he always wore a suit any time he was to be in her father’s presence, and a shirt and tie most other times, he had to have dressed casually when they were alone. Hadn’t he?
A silent slideshow flickered in his head. Images of the clothes he kept in a locker at work being among the most prominent. Had he always showered and changed after working in the shop? Or just when he started seeing her? There had to have been times, hanging at her apartment, where he lounged in sweats and a hoodie. But he couldn’t recall one, and Jen’s place wasn’t really made for lounging, at least he never thought of it that way. Even at her place—somewhere he should feel comfortable and at home—he felt on alert, like he needed to be the best version of himself he could be to impress her and raise himself up to her level.
The thought churned in his stomach, and he realized he’d been silent for too long. Both Jen and Mel stared at him. Jen’s smile growing tight, and Mel’s expression unreadable as she quirked a brow.
“Oh, sorry.” Blake rubbed his eyes. “Bad night of sleep,” he mumbled. Then, after making brief introductions, muttered to Jen, “Excuse me a moment,” and pulled Mel aside.
“Hey, I was thinking,” he said, pulling a face, “this whole thing is actually kind of lame, not as great as I thought it’d be. Maybe we should just bail.”
“What?” Mel’s eyes widened, and she glanced down at the kids, who, for all their energy, were actually quite contained, which led Blake to wonder what she threatened them with on the ride. “But Peter wanted a corn dog, and Kinsley and Brady are dying for a funnel cake. I promised them.”
“I want a corn dog too,” Brady protested.
“I know,” Mel said, squeezing his hand.
“And I want to ride the carousel,” Kinsley murmured, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked as she stared at the whirling horses.
“Okay, but why have stale corn dogs when I can treat us all to something even better? We’ll go anywhere you want in the city. Then maybe we can go somewhere fun after,” Blake said, trying to entice them.
Mel laughed. “You’re being weird. I think this looks great. The kids will have a nice time. Besides, don’t you want me to meet the Garwoods? You know, to verify you’re working for us?” she asked, nodding toward Jen. “I assumed that was part of why you wanted me to come.”
Blake avoided glancing back at Jen in case she was watching the exchange. No doubt, she’d be annoyed if he left so soon. “Nah, that can wait. I haven’t even seen her father. In fact, don’t think Mr. Garwood is here.”
“Daddy,” she heard Jen croon behind him.
Crap. Somebody save him.
Mel arched a brow and moved around Blake toward Jen.
With a sigh, Blake followed, still trying to think of a way to get around this. Maybe he could avoid Mel finding out this was actually a charity event. The moment he made introductions, he’d sweep Mel off to the other side of the hall, claiming the kids were hungry and steer clear of any and all booths, other than the food and carousel.
“I was wondering when you were gonna show up.” Jen smiled up at her father.
“Well, I knew everything was in good hands.” He turned his
shrewd gaze as Blake approached and took him in with an air of superiority.
He wore a sharp, black suit with a blue silk tie, and cuff links that probably cost more than one of Mel’s paychecks. His blond hair was combed perfectly into place. His skin was sun-kissed from long days spent on the golf course year-round. He reeked of money, and as Blake readied himself to introduce him to Mel, he instantly regretted this encounter. Why had he thought this was a good idea? When he had spoken to Jen, it felt right, fun even. Now, with all of them together in the same room, his palms began to sweat.
“Mr. Garwood,” Blake said, in greeting.
“Blake.” He offered a hand, which Blake shook before turning slightly toward Mel and her children. “This is Mel Clark and her wonderful children, Brady, Kinsley, and Peter. Mel, this is Jen’s father, Mr. Garwood.”
Mr. Garwood offered Mel a hand and smiled. “Please, call me Kent.” Then he leaned back and smiled at the kids. “So, I hear Blake has been watching you during the day.”
The three little heads bobbed. Brady and Peter looked slightly intimidated, their small lips pressed into tight lines. But Kinsley stepped forward and mustered a smile that could melt a cold man’s heart, even Garwood’s and said, “Mr. Blake is awesome. He’s so fun.”
Mr. Garwood smiled wider at that. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” Then he glanced up at Mel. “I’m glad my little bargain I struck with Blake could help you out, at least.”
“He’s been really great,” Mel said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, either uncomfortable with Garwood or unimpressed. Blake hoped it was the latter.
“Six weeks of free childcare is a pretty good deal. Make sure you get your money’s worth,” he said with a wink.
The smile froze on her lips, and Blake turned to him with a murderous glare.
“Free?” Mel mumbled, her smile faint. “I don’t understand.”