by Avery, Joy
“I stopped by the café. Thought you might need this.”
He held up a large cup, no doubt it contained her favorite pumpkin spiced latte. “You are too good to me.”
Trevor took a seat on the edge of her desk, pushing the beverage to her. “What’s up?”
She took a swig of the steaming liquid and moaned. “Mmm. That’s so good. I don’t know how they get this so perfect.”
“Uh-oh. You’re evading.”
He knew her too damn well. Eunice bit at the corner of her lip. “What would you say if I told you I’d just agreed to go with Blake to his parent’s house in Norfolk as his new love interest?”
Trevor casually folded his arms across his chest. “I’d first say take a breath, then I’d probably say what the hell.”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
Trevor chuckled. “I highly doubt it.” He shook his head. “You are truly the only woman I know who sprints toward awkward situations, instead of dashing away from them.”
“I don’t sprint—”
“Caleb Martin.”
Enough said.
Okay, maybe he had a point. If given enough time, she could rattle off a list of ridiculous situation she’d found her way into. But this, by far, had to be the most preposterous. But even though she wouldn’t admit it—especially out loud—the idea of spending time with Blake and his family was growing on her. Maybe it was the thought of celebrating the holidays with a large family. Something she’d longed for, but knew she’d probably never experienced.
“If you want, I can help you out of it.”
Out of curiosity, she asked, “How?”
He shrugged. “Simple. I can fake a stroke. You can tell Blake you have to tend to me.”
Eunice laughed. “You’re the only person I know who would fake a stroke for me. I love you, you know that?”
Trevor glided a bent finger across her cheek. “Yes, I do, kiddo. And I love you just as much.”
Eunice thought about Trevor’s offer for a moment. And in that moment, she imagined sitting at her table set for one enjoying her turkey and dressing all alone. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.” She jabbed him in the side playfully.
Trevor’s face contorted into a ball of confusion. “Here’s a question. Where is Sasha Ferocious while you and Blake are playing house?”
Eunice laughed at the name most everyone in the office called Sasha behind her back. “They’re taking a break, is how Blake put it.”
Trevor chortled. “That’s cause for celebration. That is one crazy woman. I don’t know what Blake saw in her in the first place.”
Eunice tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips.
Trevor laughed. “Right. Some men go insane over big breasts and a plump rear-end.”
“Anyway. We leave Friday. I need your help.”
“Anything.”
“If the fact Blake and I are out of the office at the same time comes up, do you mind laying a cover story? All I need is a bunch of rumors floating around about me sleeping with the boss.”
“But you do want to sleep with the boss.”
They both laughed.
“I sleep with him every night in my dreams.”
The room filled with more laughter.
Trevor popped her on the tip of the nose. “I got you covered. You know that. No one’s going to toss any shade on you around me.” He pushed away from the desk. “Give me a hug. I have to get back to work.”
Eunice came to her feet and wrapped her arms around him. “I could just tell Blake that you and I are madly in love, and that you are extremely jealous and have forbidden me to go with him.”
Trevor held her at arm’s length. “Let’s not tell him that. I actually like being gainfully employed. In fact, let me hurry out of here before the boss wonders why I’m spending so much time with his woman.”
“Ha, ha,” Eunice said, straightening his tie. “Get back to work. You can’t get that promotion to HR manager by goofing off all morning.”
Trevor kissed her forehead, then moved toward the door. “We’ll talk later.”
When her office door clicked shut, Eunice dropped into her chair. The sight of the notepad she’d carried into the meeting caught her eye. Lifting it, she stared down at the multiple hearts littering the page. Hearts she’d drawn when she’d unwittingly been daydreaming about Blake.
Growling, she ripped the yellow sheet away and crumbled it into a tight ball. Tossing it into the trash, she convinced herself that it meant absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.
Chapter 5
Eunice flashed a half-smile when Blake squeezed her hand. If the fact that he’d intertwined his fingers with hers on the jet hadn’t been enough to rattle every bone in her body, the fact that he’d done the same when they settled inside the limo that would take them to his parents’ was.
She understood the move inside the jet. The man had to be the only person in America who owned an aircraft, but was petrified of flying. But they were no longer thirty thousand feet in the air with the threat of “plummeting to their deaths,” as Blake had put it. So why had he grabbed her hand a second time?
For show, she told herself, eyeing Tucker and his wife Vivian. They’d been in town on business and had flown down with them from New York. Blake confessed he’d shared everything with Tucker, but Vivian was oblivious. This show of affection had to be for her. That was the only logical explanation, right? At least, the only one that made sense.
The limo pulled up a circle drive and came to a stop in front of a sprawling palace of a house. The waterfront property had to be close to ten thousand square feet. Hard to believe Blake’s parents and his great aunt were the only ones who resided in the massive space.
Passed the large structure a mini yacht bobbed in the water. She recalled Blake mentioning he’d purchased his father a boat for his birthday last year. He hadn’t described the vessel as being so grand. Hopefully they could take it out at some point.
The second she stepped out of the limo, the biting cold took a plug out of her. The crisp air burned her nostrils as she drew in a deep breath. A wave of something she refused to call fear rushed over her. Now was not the time to panic. That should have happen before boarding the flight to Virginia. She could do this. Heck, she dealt with spoiled athletes and ruthless media on a daily basis. But this was Blake’s parents. And she was “dating” their baby boy. She swallowed hard.
“You two coming?” Tucker asked brushing past them.
“We’ll be in shortly,” Blake said, clearly getting a hint that something was wrong.
Tucker gave them a reassuring nod and continued along the paved path.
Blake’s questioning eyes settled on her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded absently, her eyes pinned straight ahead. “Yeah, fine.”
Was she really seconds away from meeting Blake’s parents? And not as his employee, but as his lover. His lover. She couldn’t snatch her eyes away from the massive front door. It haunted her as if it would open up and swallow her whole.
When Tucker and Vivian disappeared through the door, Eunice had a notion to sprint back to the limo, dive inside, and yell “Floor it, driver.” Unfortunately, she’d have to be a track star to catch the departing vehicle.
“What was I thinking,” she mumbled to herself. Facing Blake, she shook her head. “I can’t do this, Blake. I can’t. Your mom will see right through this.”
Blake laughed and cradled her face between his hands. “You can do this.” He paused briefly. “But if you really want to leave, we can go right now.”
Eunice stared into his eyes. The warmth she witnessed in them settled her frazzled nerves. How could he sooth her with such a generic look? Before she could respond to his offer, the front door swung open.
A petite woman with platinum hair hurried toward them. Judging by Blake’s admiration, this had to be his mother. She was beautiful with a flawless pecan complexion and a smile that could melt an ice
berg.
“Prat,” his mother called out.
“Prat?” Eunice whispered out the side of her mouth.
“Long story,” Blake said in a similar tone. “Hey, gorgeous.” He extended his arms and his mother rushed into them. He bent and kissed her on the cheek as he rocked her in his arms. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” His mother pushed away after a moment and scrutinized her son from head to toe. “You’re too thin, Prat. Are you eating enough?” She rested a delicate hand on his cheek.
Eunice laughed to herself. It is exactly what he said his mother would say.
“I am.” He turned toward Eunice. “Thanks to this lovely lady.”
Eunice flashed a shaky smile when their eyes settled on her.
“You must be Eunice,” his mother said.
Eunice extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Farrington. You have a beautiful home.”
The woman ignored Eunice’s outstretched hand. “Come here, honey. Shaking hands is too formal. You’re family.” She took Eunice into her arms and embraced her as if they’d known each other for decades. “I’m so glad you could join us. I certainly wish you could stay through Thanksgiving, but I understand you wanting to be with your own family.”
“Ah, good news, Mom. Eunice will be with us through Thanksgiving.”
Mrs. Farrington’s eyes widened. “That is wonderful news. She grabbed Eunice into another tight hug. “Just wonderful.”
Mrs. Farrington had made her feel like family instantaneously. God, she’d missed the warmth of a mother’s embrace.
Mrs. Farrington draped her arm through Eunice’s. “My son’s told me so much about you that I feel I already know you, so I won’t interrogate you with a million questions.”
In her head, Eunice dragged the back of her hand across her forehead. Whew. But what was the so much Blake had told his mother about her?
Mrs. Farrington led Eunice toward the house. “Let’s get inside. It’s cold out here.” She held her hand out for her son to take. “Are you sure you’re eating enough?”
Eunice and Blake laughed in unison.
Inside, Eunice was just as impressed with the interior of the home as she was with the exterior. An elegant crystal chandelier hung in the foyer. Lavish furnishings in cream and gold decorated a massive living room. A mammoth-sized fireplace crackled and gave the space comforting warmth.
Eunice spent the next twenty minutes meeting various family members and friends, all of whom welcomed her warmly. Blake’s father Solemn—a handsome man with salt and pepper hair, dark brown skin, and extremely entertaining—told her she was as pretty as a Georgia peach.
Some of the introductions were eventful. Like meeting Blake’s senile aunt, Belle, who’d mistaken Eunice for her college professor and complained about the failing grade she’d received on her essay. Blake’s oldest brother, Ian, and daughter, Casey, arrived a short time later. His wife Gabby was to join them in a couple of days.
After all of the introductions, Eunice and Blake followed his mother to a third level of the home. From the outside, you wouldn’t have guessed there were three stories. Oil paintings lined the staircase wall and lengthy hallway. She recognized a few of the artists.
Mrs. Farrington glanced over her shoulder. “I know how you like your quiet time, son. That’s why I’m putting you two up here. It should be a lot calmer.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Under normal circumstances, you two would have separate rooms. But we’re a little cramped for space since your cousins made an unexpected appearance.”
Wait. Eunice perked. Had she just heard Mrs. Farrington correctly? She and Blake would be sharing a room? She shot him a questioning scowl. He appeared just as stunned as she.
Thinking fast, Eunice said, “Mrs. Farrington, Blake and I are more than happy to check into a hotel. It would free up another room.”
“A hotel? Nonsense. I haven’t had all my boys under the same roof since last year. But thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
Eunice shot Blake another tight look. He shrugged and excused himself to the restroom.
“If you hear pitter-patter of tiny feet in the middle of the night, it’s Casey. That little girl is just like her father at that age. She loves to sneak out of bed and up here to her playroom next door. Just pop her behind and send her back to bed. I’m not sure who’s more rambunctious, Casey or Belle.”
Eunice hugged one arm around her waist and gnawed at her thumbnail, tuning Mrs. Farrington out as she rambled on about food or something. Why was she so nervous? There was nothing to be alarmed about. Blake would take the floor. She scrutinized the space under her feet. With the thick carpet, it looked comfy enough. Scanning the room, Eunice paused at the painting of a country setting in winter. A dilapidated shack, a battered three-wheeled wagon, an iced-over pond, and trees covered in snow. “Onslow?”
“Why, yes. You’re familiar with his work?”
“Absolutely. Onslow Behsure,” she said. “He was my mother’s favorite artist.” Eunice moved closer to the painting and outlined the frame with her index finger. “This was her favorite. Lonesome Road.”
“That’s correct.”
Eunice believed in signs, and this had to be a good one. Had to be her mother saying, “I’m right here with you.”
“Is your mother an artist?” Mrs. Farrington asked, moving next to her.
Eunice smiled. “No. But she could have been. She was a curator at an art museum. I used to love when she’d take me to work with her. She would—” Emotions swelled inside her, and she attempted to fight them down. Too late. A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said, swiping at the wetness.
Mrs. Farrington took her hand and patted it gently. “Don’t apologize. Memories can elicit intense emotions.”
More tears escaped. “I miss her so much.”
“My mother’s been gone near forty years and I still find myself missing her every single day. There’s no love like a mother’s love.”
Eunice finally gathered herself. “Look at me. Crying all over the place. You probably think I’m insane.”
“That’s hardly what I’m thinking. I’m thinking you’ve experienced a great loss.”
Yeah, she had. Changing the subject, Eunice said, “Are you a collector, Mrs. Farrington?”
“Please. Call me Thelma. And no, not exactly. Onslow Behsure was my great-great-grandfather.”
What were the odds? Eunice refocused on the painting. “His work is amazing. He was extremely talented.”
“Mom?” Blake said, finally exiting the bathroom.
“Yes, son.”
“I love family and all, but will they be here the entire weekend?”
Mrs. Farrington laughed. “They’re leaving on Sunday.”
Blake wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. “Whew.”
“Son, did you tell Eunice about the gift exchange?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Blake had explained to her about the family tradition, and she was looking forward to being a part of it. Each couple had to purchase a gift for their significant other. But not just any gift. The gift needed to be something meaningful. Staying in character, she’d gotten Blake the perfect gift. It seemed odd to exchange gifts at Thanksgiving, but the concept was interesting.
Mrs. Farrington gave them both a kiss and a hug before departing. When the door clicked shut, Eunice darted across the room and stood toe-to-toe with Blake. His scent nearly rendered her useless. Quickly rebounding, she folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes. “You said we would be in separate rooms.”
He lifted his hands defensively. “You heard mom. Unexpected guests.”
“Yeah, I heard her. But for some reason, I think you were already privy to that information.”
Blake released a sexy sound of humor. A sound much too tantalizing to be called a simple laugh. “I swear I didn’t know.”
If he wasn’t so cute, with those sparkling
dark eyes, luscious lips, and hypnotic smile, she could almost be angry at him. Almost. Eunice bounced her foot against the carpeted floor. “Well, Prat, at least it’s soft.”
Blake brushed her words off with a chuckled, but sobered quickly. “Wait. You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
He tossed his head back and roared in laughter, but didn’t protest. “Okay. But this is cold, cruel, and unusual punishment. When I’m unable to walk in the morning, I’ll let you explain to my mother why.”
Eunice weighed her options silently. Sleeping next to Blake’s warm, hard body all night long and not being able to touch him or crafting an explanation for his mother? Well, this was a no-brainer. Floor for one hundred.
Cruel, yes. But what would have been crueler...her in the bed next to him, scorched by his heat, spellbound by his scent, aroused by every inch of his brawny body, and being unable to do anything about it.
Now that was the true cruel and unusual punishment.
Chapter 6
Blake tossed a subtle glance in Eunice’s direction that quickly morphed into an ogle. She was damn good at this playing his lover thing. Almost like she’d been practicing for months. But he knew that wasn’t the case. He’d only sprung the idea on her days ago. It was still hard to believe she’d agreed without him getting down on bended knee. As if he would have gone to that extent. Her lips curved into a tempting smile as she responded to something his cousin said. Then again, maybe he would have.
Their interaction in the bedroom a few hours earlier played in his head. Did she really expect him to sleep on the floor? The bed was large enough for both of them to occupy without ever even touching one another. A flash of him trailing a finger along the curve of her naked body consumed him. On second thought, sleeping on the floor might not be such a bad idea after all.
Shake it off, man. Clearing his naughty thoughts, Blake eyed his cousin Shelly as she mulled over what card to toss down next. By the number of times the woman had reneged, it was obvious she had no clue how to play spades. Luckily, he hadn’t been saddled with her as a partner.