Falling For Her Manny

by Souders, Tia

  His gaze latched onto hers. He could smell the faint scent of the soap she used as the honey of her eyes pierced straight through him. Sparks ignited where her hand met his lips, and a ball of fire settled low in his gut, and he was hit with the insatiable—and hugely inappropriate—urge to nip at her palm.

  He dragged a breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as every nerve ending where his lips met her palms came alive.

  What was he doing? Thoughts of Jen flashed through his head. He swallowed, and Mel ripped her hand away as though she knew the trajectory of his thoughts.

  He inhaled a shaky breath, hoping for the oxygen to return to his brain. But he knew he was in trouble. Mel was an attractive woman, no doubt. He’d thought so since the first day he laid eyes on her at The Burnt Bean, but he had grown even more attracted to her these past couple weeks. And now he had a very vivid picture in his head of what she looked like naked. Not helping.

  Who would’ve thought there were two doors into her bathroom? Someone who didn’t have a private master bath, you dimwit.

  Blake shifted his gaze to the ground for fear he’d say something idiotic and make the situation worse. His brain wasn’t exactly firing on all synapses at the moment.

  “So, I should be home by four today,” she said, her voice calm.

  “Got it.” Blake ruffled his hair, trying to keep his cool, then risked a glance at her.

  She bit her thumbnail. Her face was free of makeup except for the gloss on her lips. Her thick, dark lashes framed her amber eyes, and her damp hair had started to dry in soft waves around a face. Her beauty was so effortless, it struck him in the chest like an arrow.

  “You’re staring,” Mel said with a raised brow.

  “I’m not.” Blake raised his hands. “I swear, I’ve erased it from my memory.”

  Mel continued to stare him down until the corners of her mouth curled, giving her away, and since he already had her half-smiling, he decided now was as good a time as any to dial it up a notch. He stepped over to the breakfast counter and picked up the to-go cup he had filled and handed it to her. “For your subway ride,” he said in way of explanation.

  Mel stared down at the cup, awestruck. “Thanks.” She glanced back up at him, gratitude warming her eyes.

  How did any man resist those eyes?

  Then her lips quirked, and she added, “Who knew voyeurs had time to brew coffee before their peeping.”

  Blake laughed and shook his head. She had a sense of humor, he’d give her that. “We can’t have PopNewz’s new Executive Editor working without caffeine, now can we?”

  Her smile spread. “I guess not.” She tipped her cup toward him. “Thanks.” Then she turned and blew kisses to each of the kids, already engrossed in cartoons, as she headed to the door.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MEL

  Mel hustled into the office with only five minutes to spare. Though she had little time, she needed a quick chat with her girls, so as she moved past their cubicles, she motioned for them to follow. “Freebie room. Now,” she hissed.

  “Yes, Boss,” Marti mumbled as she followed, and Caroline joined her.

  Mel flung open the door and plunged herself between the racks of spring wear and flopped down onto the bench in the middle of the room. “I think I have a thing for my manny.”

  “Of course you do,” Caroline chirped.

  Mel blinked at her as her jaw dropped. “What? How. . .”

  “Hello? After you hired him, you should’ve heard how you described him. It was like you were describing your favorite dessert. It was practically sinful. Then once he started doing a great job.” Caroline slashed the air with her hands. “You were done for. Every other time you mentioned him, you may as well have been moaning his name.”

  Marti nodded in agreement.

  Mel exhaled in defeat. Had she really been so transparent? Even she hadn’t realized . . . “But isn’t that kind of a problem? I mean, he’s my manny, and he has a girlfriend.”

  Caroline shrugged. “It sucks. That’s for sure. But you have to question how good their relationship is if she’s making him watch your kids just to prove he has what it takes to be a good husband and father.”

  “Well, technically, her father is the one who demanded Blake do this in order to gain his blessing.” Why was she defending her? She hadn’t exactly been fond of Jen upon meeting her. Quite the opposite. Even though Mel didn’t know her well, she sensed Jen was immature, naive, thoughtless, and privileged in a way that gave her a single view of the world. Right or wrong, Mel’s tolerance for people like that was limited.

  “Meh.” Marti waved this notion away. “She’s a grown woman, and if she really loved him, she should tell him to forget her crusty old dad and run off with him.”

  “Now, that’s romantic.” Caroline piped up. “Except for the crusty part.” She winced.

  Mel didn’t have the nerve to tell them Jen was a Garwood, as in The Garwoods.

  “He also saw me naked,” Mel blurted.

  “Whoa.” Caroline’s eyes widened to saucers as she slowly sunk down beside her, a smile blooming over her face.

  Marti arched a brow. “Was the naked thing intentional? Because this story will be a lot more interesting if so.”

  Mel dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “No. The naked thing was this morning and a complete accident.”

  “Details. We need details,” Caroline said, practically salivating as she scooted closer to her.

  “It was this morning. I was running late, and I walked into my bedroom after a shower to get my clothes, and he was in there, checking on the kids.”

  Marti grinned. “Got an eye-full, huh?”

  “I’m trying to repress the memory.” Mel grimaced.

  “Hmmm. I’m sure he’s not.”

  “Marti!” Mel jabbed her in the ribs with her elbow.

  “Ow!”

  “Do you have to make it weird?” Mel asked.

  “What? It’s true.”

  Mel stood and headed toward the door. She had to get to her office, or she’d be late. Besides, this little unearthing of her feelings did very little to help her feel better about the fact that, when Blake grabbed her wrist before she headed for the shower, she had wanted to sink inside his arms. Or how, when she covered his mouth with her hand, she’d wanted to remove it and replace it with her lips. She had hoped her friends would make her see how crazy that was. Instead, they only validated her when she needed them to make her see reason, to talk her down from the ledge.

  “I’ve carried and birthed triplets. I’m sure Jen,” she said, thinking back on beautiful she was, how young, and vibrant she’d looked, “has zero stretch marks and the skin tone of a supermodel from all those expensive spa treatments.”

  Caroline shot her a dirty look. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a babe.”

  Marti and Caroline followed Mel as she opened the door and stepped back out into the hall. The sound of clacking keyboards, soft chatter, and phones ringing filled the space.

  Marti bumped her shoulder. “You’ll know if he liked what he saw.”

  “What? How?”

  “Trust me, you’ll just know. You’ll catch him staring when you’re not looking, or he’ll blush when he looks at you, his eyes will trail your body or dart to his favorite part.” She wiggled her brows, and Mel’s cheeks heated. “There are all kinds of ways. Watch his body language, and I guarantee you’ll be able to tell.”

  “That’s ridiculous. And what if he didn’t like what he saw? Then what?”

  “He’ll be unable to look you in the eye,” Caroline said with confidence.

  “You two are crazy,” Mel said, pointing at them, but she couldn’t help her grin. “I’ll see you later. Lunch?” she asked, and when they nodded, she turned and headed to her office.

  All throughout the day, she wondered what Blake’s expression was when he glimpsed her in her birthday suit. She had been too embarrassed to meet his eye, except for
that one heart-stopping moment when she’d placed her hand over his mouth, and it was enough to send her into arrhythmia. Still, Marti’s words stuck with her all day.

  And it made her wonder . . . How would he look at her when she got home?

  MEL

  SHE TOLD HERSELF NO matter how Blake acted when she walked through the door, it meant nothing. So he saw her naked? Things were bound to be a little awkward. If he didn’t look her in the eye, it would be a natural reaction and not because he thought she looked like an ogre.

  Still, no matter how many times she repeated this to herself on the subway ride home, her stomach fluttered with nerves. By the time she entered her apartment, her anticipation levels were off the Richter scale. Any second, her insides would quake and she’d split in two.

  She stepped inside to see Blake sprawled out on the ground, playing what seemed to be an epic game of Candyland. When she approached, he glanced up and sprung to his feet.

  “How was work?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  Mel’s stomach sunk. No look of longing in his eyes. No blush. Nothing. Then she reminded herself she was being stupid. Snap out of it!

  “It was great. If all goes well, I sign my contract at the end of next week and get my first paycheck as Executive Editor soon after, so that’s something. The week can’t go fast enough,” she said, glancing away.

  “Right.” Blake scratched his head and angled himself toward the kids.

  When Mel risked another glance at him, she caught him trailing his eyes down her body from her peripheral. Chest, legs, feet, legs, booty, face. She caught his gaze, and he immediately turned his head and cleared his throat, his cheeks a bright crimson.

  A little thrill ran through her. He was totally checking me out. And his cheeks are turning red. . .

  Her body flushed, a pleasurable warmth coursing through her veins. Maybe it was pathetic to feel that much joy at the notion a man had seen her in her birthday suit and liked what he saw, but, hey, she was human. After having three babies all in one go, his finding her attractive meant something to her, even if it was a little awkward and egotistical.

  Blake cleared his throat, glancing at her from under his lashes. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

  Mel bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her smile and failing. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

  She walked behind him to the door. He swung it open, his jacket slung over his arm, but before he could step out into the hall, something inside of her—a bold part of her she didn’t even know existed—placed a hand on his arm. It was hard and warm under his shirtsleeve and roped with muscle. And it occurred to her these kinds of thoughts and what she was about to say weren’t helping her desire to stifle her attraction to him.

  Regardless, when he turned to her, his dark eyes focused on her face, she said, “It’s okay if you liked what you saw.” Her grin stretched into a full smile as his mouth dropped open.

  Who was she and what has she done with Mel? But Mel had always been bold, and it felt good to tease. This version of herself hadn’t been dusted off in over four years.

  His blush deepened, and when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing come out.

  “Have a nice night,” she said, her smile wide. Then she closed the door with a surge of satisfaction, the kind she hadn’t felt in a very long time. After all, when was the last time she left a man speechless?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MEL

  She’d like to say the first thing on her mind when she woke Saturday morning was her children—or her new job, her weekend off, anything other than a man she had no business thinking about. One who had walked on eggshells around her all week as though she might bite. Regardless, Blake’s rumpled dark hair, hazelnut eyes, and the way he looked in that leather jacket he always wore greeted her the moment she broke consciousness.

  The rest of the week had gone without a hitch. Each day, Mel came home to order instead of the old chaos she was once used to. Together, they had devised a reward chart for the Triple Threat, as well as developing ground rules. It was amazing how much easier her evenings were when the kids weren’t swinging from the rafters. Sure, they still had their moments—they were kids, after all—but all in all, it was like somebody had crashed into their tiny apartment and breathed new life into it. That somebody had been Blake. In three short weeks, he had helped her create a routine for the kids and provided them with some much-needed structure and stability. Sure, he hadn’t done it alone. She had more than stepped up to the plate, but she wondered if he knew just how much he had affected their lives in such a short amount of time. How irreplaceable he was making himself. The thought alone twisted her stomach to knots.

  Mel groaned and pressed her pillow into her face. She didn’t want to think about that—him leaving. And she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about the black t-shirt he wore Friday, which clung to every inch of his finely honed chest. She could easily list a handful of reasons why she should shove all thoughts of Blake from her mind.

  For a start, he was her manny. She was literally paying him to watch her children.

  She hardly knew him.

  He had a girlfriend. And not just any girlfriend, but a Garwood—heir to the hugely successful luxury hotel chain.

  Mel wasn’t interested in a relationship—far from it. Or, at least she didn’t think she was, though her lingering gaze and growing attraction to him said otherwise. And never mind the way her heart swelled when she watched him interact with the kids.

  She closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep because it was better than counting off the reasons why she shouldn’t be daydreaming about her manny.

  Her mind drifted, the lull of sleep tugging on her. In her half-dream state, an image of Blake, straddling the back of one of his bikes, floated into her thoughts. She bet he drove something simple and sleek—kind of like him. He wasn’t the type to own something flashy. Instead, she could see him behind the handlebars of something dark and dangerous, if not understated. Her cheeks heated as she pictured him settling over the seat. What would it be like to ride behind him? To cling to that muscled stomach and chest. To smell the scent of him through his clothes as she pressed her cheek against the warm, smooth skin of his back.

  Mel jolted awake, her breathing ragged. Staring at the ceiling, she blinked her eyes a dozen times to clear the fog of sleep.

  She glanced over at Kinsley beside her. Her little cheeks were flushed pink, her body rising and falling with each breath, so peaceful and serene. Her angel. Next to them on the other bed, Brady and Peter curled up on the twin.

  If she was quiet enough, she could tiptoe out to the kitchen and perk some coffee before they woke. Mornings, where she got the first cup down in solitude, were usually the best. It helped her prepare for the day ahead, gain her bearings and find her Zen before the chaos, and her endless “to-do” list.

  She carefully peeled back the comforter and slipped out of bed, light on her feet as she skirted around the boy’s bed and headed for the kitchen, closing her bedroom door all but a crack. After she scooped grinds into the pot and poured in the water, she leaned back against the counter and waited. Alone. Why did it feel more quiet than usual?

  An image of Craig flashed in her head. She remembered how he used to drink his coffee, impossibly sweet, and with tons of cream. What would it be like if Craig had never left her?

  The question—and the direction of her thoughts—popped in her head so suddenly she had to grip the edge of the counter for support. She rarely allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to have a husband, a father for her children. It was dangerous and led to a wide range of emotions—guilt, sorrow, grief, and anger topping the list. Though she’d done well enough on her own, she hated having to do it alone. She resented him for leaving while wishing he’d come back. It was a terrible way to feel.

  Yet what she never told anyone, what she didn’t dare admit, was that as much as she resented Craig for abandoning her, deep down, she understo
od it. The doctors thought she was pregnant with twins. When they discovered a third after giving birth to her boys, it had been a surprise to them all. Yes, Craig had wanted a baby. They had decided to start a family together, but neither of them was prepared for two, let alone three. It was a lot to swallow, and the reality of it even harder to cope with. Three screaming, hungry infants were no joke. It had been too much for both of them. The only difference was he bailed, while she stayed.

  But if he hadn’t . . . if he really had left for diapers that day and came back, things would be so different. If he were there now, they’d still be in their Queens apartment—only two bedrooms—but still better. Or maybe by now they would’ve made a move to outside the city and she’d be a commuter. If he were there now, weekends would likely be different. Would he wrap his arms around her? Tell her he loved her? Would they have made love (in their own private bedroom) before the kids woke, then made breakfast together? Maybe they’d have a dog. Maybe Friday nights would be Family Night, and they’d order pizza and take turns picking the movie? Maybe then there wouldn’t be stains all over the rugs and a broken doorknob on her closet.

  It was a nice fantasy. If only it were true.

  Then again, she was surviving just fine on her own. She didn’t need a man to be happy, and normally, she didn’t dwell on the fact she was alone and single, but something about Blake’s appearance in their lives made her want what she didn’t have.

  Looking back now, though, there were other red flags with Craig. Things that may have caused problems long-term, things you didn’t notice when you were young, madly in love, and believed love conquered all. Now, she wondered, even if they hadn’t had kids if they would’ve lasted. She wasn’t so sure. Craig was always a little selfish, putting himself first and her second. If they had a weekend free, it was always his to choose how they’d spend it. There was very little give and take. Not to mention they had a difference of opinion on spending. He liked to splurge and run up the credit card while she was more conservative, always wanting to save. Just little things. But little things had a tendency to add up.