Blatantly Blythe

by Sarah Hegger

  Blake pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, an old cell of hers that she paid for some airtime for him on. “You gave me this,” he said. “Call me and remind me. Then I’ll call you when I get to the school, and I’ll call you when she’s with me.”

  “And he’ll call you from the ice cream place,” Kim said.

  Blake raised his eyebrows at Kim. “Or not.”

  “Can I speak to you?” Blythe motioned Blake to follow her.

  They stopped out of earshot in the passage.

  “I won’t mess this up,” Blake said, his expression sincere.

  Blythe wanted so much to believe him. “I don’t want her growing up like we did. I won’t let her grow up that way.”

  “And you’re not.” Blake put his hand on her shoulder. “You may have been too busy doing to see, but she’s nothing like us. That kid in there is as normal as any other kid. You did that, Blythe.”

  His words took her by surprise and made her want to cry. “I want to trust you, but…”

  “I know, Blythe. I won’t let you down.” He tipped her chin up and made her look at him. “I double down swear on a stack of bibles, that I won’t let you down.” He gave her a gentle smile and finished their childhood vow. “Or you can rub fifty sticks of gum in my hair.”

  * * * *

  Chase arrived on time for his appointment. Dressed, as always, in top of the line workout gear. It wasn’t showy or flashy, but it certainly beamed expensive to anyone around it.

  Blythe put him on the treadmill to warm up. “So, what brings you to Ghost Falls, Chase?”

  “Business.” He increased his pace as she increased the pace on the machine. “I’m looking into a merger here.”

  “Really?” She used to find the client chit chat tough to do, feeling like people could tell when she opened her mouth that she was from the wrong side of the tracks. “What business are you in?”

  “Construction.” Chase smiled at her.

  This has to be a coincidence. The world wasn’t really that small. “What business are you merging with?”

  “Well, it’s far from final,” Chase said. “And things are at a delicate phase in the negations, but Evans Construction.”

  There you had it. Blythe tried to hide feeling sucker punched

  Chase frowned down at her. “Do you know them?”

  “Matt and Eric?” She played it cool. “Small town. We all went to school together.”

  “Ah.” Chase relaxed into a longer stride. “So you’re the one I need to come to for all the dirt on them?”

  So much more than he knew, or anyone knew for that matter. “I’d have to charge you for that.”

  She checked the clock. About now Blake should be going to get Kim.

  Her phone buzzed with a message. Please don’t let that be the kindergarten. “Excuse me, I have to check this,” she said to Chase. “I’m checking my sister gets home safely from school.”

  “How old?” Chase motioned her to check her phone.

  “Four.” Apparently she didn’t need to remind Blake at all. He’d texted to say he was on his way to fetch Kim.

  Relief made her smile. “Let’s get you started,” she said to Chase.

  “This wasn’t started?” He mopped his brow with his sweat towel.

  Blythe played along. “I think you’ll survive.”

  “Everything okay with your sister?” Chase settled on a weight bench.

  She loaded plates on the bar, assessed Chase and gave him a tiny bit more. “Yes. My brother is on his way to fetch her now.”

  “If you’re worried, keep your phone out.” Chase breathed in and pressed the bar up. “I really don’t mind.”

  “It’s not professional.” Blythe tucked her phone into the hidden pocket in her yoga pants. She smiled at Chase. “Besides which, this may be your ploy to get me to allow you to take business calls while you work out. And that’s not going to happen.”

  “Dang it!” Chase racked the bar. “And here I thought I was being so clever.”

  “Eight more.” Blythe tapped the bar.

  Chase went for the lift. “I have kids of my own, you know? I know how it feels.”

  “Yes? How many?” Chase had marked himself as single on his application. Perhaps there wasn’t a Mrs. Gunning.

  Breathing heavily, Chase finished his set before replying. “Seven.”

  “Wow.” Blythe didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Three wives.” Chase grimaced. “Took me three tries before I realized I wasn’t the marrying kind.”

  Maybe his three wives would have been better off knowing that before he married them, but Blythe kept her thoughts behind a polite smile and asked him to do another set.

  * * * *

  Blythe checked her phone after saying goodbye to Chase. Blake had sent a picture of him and Kim at the park, and another of them at home with him and Kim waving crayons and settled in front of a coloring book.

  Even knowing how silly she was being, Blythe couldn’t be easy until she opened the door to her apartment that evening.

  The smell of garlic, tomatoes, and onions made a welcome greeting.

  “Hello.” She dropped her bag into the tiny entrance hall and moved into the living room.

  Without looking away from the TV, Kim waved at her.

  Blythe crouched down and kissed the top of her head. “How was your day?”

  “Fine.” Kim kept her eyes glued on her program. “Blake said we couldn’t have ice cream.”

  “Good for Blake.” She stood up and faced Blake in the kitchen. She felt really stupid for her misgivings. Kim was fine and safe, and from the smell and the towel over his shoulder, it looked like Blake had dinner on the go.

  Blake smiled at her. “How was your day?”

  “Good.” She perched herself on a stool at the kitchen island. “Is that dinner I smell?”

  “You know it?” Blake went to the stove and stirred a pot. “Don’t get too excited, it’s only pasta, but I do make a good tomato sauce.”

  “This is something I thought I’d never see.”

  Blake grinned at her. “I acquired some domestic skills.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” The apartment looked like he might have done some cleaning as well. “Did you clean?”

  “I did. But I don’t do windows.” He went back to his pots and pans. “I did a job search this morning, but not much turned up.” He leaned against the counter beside the stove. “There’s not much of a market for someone with my impressive track record.”

  “You’ll get there.” The world was not that forgiving of people like Blake. No matter how hard they tried to turn their lives around. “And in the meantime, you have somewhere to stay.”

  He grimaced. “I appreciate that, Blythe, really I do, so don’t get me wrong. But I feel like a leach. I can’t even contribute to groceries.”

  “You contribute.” The tiny bit he could spare from his few days a week.

  Blake made a rude noise and rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.” His face grew serious. “I think we might have an even bigger problem.”

  There were very few things that could bring that combination of concern and fear to Blake’s face. Blythe hoped that this wasn’t a case like Voldemort, whereby saying his name drew his attention. “Brett?”

  “Yeah, Brett.” Blake looked over to where Kim sat in front of the TV and lowered his voice. “When I went to fetch her, he was at the daycare.”

  “What?” All the air left her lungs in a rush. She should have thought about Brett going to Kim’s daycare. Stupid, stupid her. Dixie was a treat, and Blythe really liked her, but she wouldn’t be able to keep information from Brett if he asked. None of them would dare keep stuff from Brett. People didn’t do so well who didn’t give Brett what he wanted. “You saw him?�
��

  Blake nodded. “He didn’t go in, but he was standing outside at the time when the kids are let out.”

  “Did you speak to him?” Blythe pushed down the rush of panic. She didn’t want Brett anywhere near Kim. He could be charming enough when he wanted to be. He could play harmless and trustworthy. It’s part of what made him so dangerous. You didn’t know what he was up to until his evil side put in an appearance.

  “He approached me.” Blake blew out a long breath. “Scared the crap out of me. I didn’t see him until he stepped right in front of me.” He shook his head. “As stupid as it sounds, I’d forgotten what a big bastard he was.

  Brett would have loved that. He thrived on keeping people off balance. She hadn’t forgotten anything about Brett. She could still remember exactly how big he was and how strong. “Did he get to Kim?”

  “No.” Blake shook his head. “He spoke to me before I went in. When I came out with Kim, he’d gone already.”

  There was that at least. “Do you think he’s been hanging around the daycare?” Her mind went a mile a minute. “I should tell the teachers to watch out for him. That I don’t want him near Kim.”

  “I asked them if they’d seen him hanging around.” Blake shook his head. “Nobody has seen him before. I think we can safely assume this is the first time. He’s not the sort of guy anyone would forget.”

  Once was one time too many for Blythe. “Did he tell you what he wanted?”

  “He said he wanted to see Kim. That she was his little sister, and he’d never even seen her.”

  God, she’d been afraid of something like this. Brett liked to stamp his huge presence all over the family. It had nothing to do with Kim or even her. It was all about Brett making sure they knew he was around and in charge. “I don’t want him near her.”

  “I know that.” Blake squeezed her hand. “And I agree with you, but I don’t think he’s going to do anything that puts his parole at risk. Also he said he wouldn’t try to see her without your approval.”

  “He said that?” That didn’t sound like Brett at all. But then, Brett lied along with the best of them to get what he wanted.

  Blake nodded. “He did, and I think he might even have meant it.”

  “Like hell.” Brett did nothing that didn’t suit Brett.

  “Apparently, he has a job.” Blake went back to stirring his sauce.

  “A legal one?” She’d never known Brett to work anything that didn’t have a get rich fast angle to it.

  Blake chuckled. “Yeah, hard to believe as it is, he has a real job with a legitimate company.”

  “Then I feel sorry for them.” Whoever Brett had conned into employing him would soon find out they’d been taken. “Which idiot had the stupidity to hire him?”

  “The Evans brothers,” Blake said, his back to her. “Brett says that Eric hired him to work security at one of his construction sites.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Blythe parked on Main Street and made her way into the lobby of Evans Construction. A set of glass doors led into an elegant, understated lobby, all leather and wood with black and white construction photos on the walls.

  She approached the reception desk and braced herself to deal with Mrs. Cameron. The woman still had the same tightly curled, chestnut hairstyle she’d had when she had worked as school secretary.

  Eric had once confessed to her in bed that Mrs. Cameron still scared the crap out of him, but her husband had lost his job a couple of years back and the school board had let her go. Matt had hired her to help her out, and when she wasn’t breathing fire, she was a good receptionist.

  Mrs. Cameron’s thin mouth disappeared into a purple painted purse of disapproval. “Blythe Barrows, what are you doing here?”

  A question Blythe hadn’t stopped asking herself since she’d decided to come. Nothing short of Brett would have brought her anywhere near Eric. Not when he still ached like a missing limb.

  Despite her absolute obligation to tell them what Brett was really like, to warn them, she’d still driven past the building and made sure Eric’s car wasn’t there before she’d come inside.

  “I’d like to see Matt, please,” she said to Mrs. Cameron. She had to fight the urge to give the woman a teenage sneer of rebellion. The arc of disapproval always brought that juvenile knee jerk out in her.

  Mrs. Cameron peered over her glasses. “Mr. Evans is an extremely busy man, and unless you have an appointment, you can’t see him.”

  Blythe got the impression that it would be a cold day in hell before Mrs. Cameron gave her that appointment. She took a deep breath. “I’ll wait until he has a moment. It’s extremely important that I see him.”

  “What about?” Mrs. Cameron glared at her.

  Blythe met her look of disdain without flinching. She didn’t need to let people make her feel not good enough. She had as much right to be here as anyone, and this was Mrs. Cameron’s job. Although she had the feeling even a Pippa makeover wouldn’t make Mrs. Cameron treat her any differently. “I’m afraid that’s between Matt and me.” She indicated a large leather sofa. “I’ll sit here and wait for him.”

  Lips tightly compressed, Mrs. Cameron glowered at her as Blythe took a seat. “He’s busy.”

  “I understand, and I’ll wait. I’ll only take two minutes of his time. This is important.” She could back off and call Matt, but she’d be damned if she let Mrs. Cameron chase her away now. Similar incidents littered her childhood and teens, times they had chased her away and judged her. She didn’t need to take that anymore.

  Positioning herself with a view out the front door of Eric’s empty parking spot, Blythe sat down to a long and stressful ten minutes.

  Mrs. Cameron growled and glared at her. “Tell me what this is about and maybe, and I mean maybe, I can find out if Mr. Evans has the time for you.”

  Time was ticking by, and she had a client in forty minutes. The longer she sat here, the greater the chance of an encounter of the Eric kind. “I need to see him about Brett.”

  “Your brother?” Mrs. Cameron frowned. Then she ruffled up like an angry goose and scowled. “Don’t even think of coming here and asking the Evans boys to give that no-good thug a job. We don’t want that kind in this company.”

  Wow! Did every person who walked in that lobby get treated like crap, or did Mrs. Cameron save something special for the Barrowses? It gave Blythe childish satisfaction to say, “They already did give him a job, and I need to change their minds.”

  Mrs. Cameron gaped. “Why didn’t you say that in the beginning?”

  Because generally receptionists didn’t involve themselves in the content of the company’s meetings, but what the hell. Blythe shrugged and went back to her parking watch.

  With another growl, Mrs. Cameron snatched up her phone. “Good morning. Yes, hi Eric, I have that Blythe Barrows sitting here. She wanted to see Matt, but she needs to talk to one of you.”

  Everything in Blythe stilled, and Mrs. Cameron’s words crept over her in slow motion. Oh, no, no, no. She didn’t want to see Eric. She leaped to her feet and held her hands out. “No!”

  Mrs. Cameron looked genuinely shocked. “What are you doing?”

  “Eric’s not here.” She jabbed a finger at the parking lot. “Matt. I need to see Matt.”

  Standing, Mrs. Cameron glared over her glasses. “Blythe Barrows! Where do you think you’re going?”

  Blythe snatched up her bag. “I’ll call Matt.” She should have done that in the first place, instead of coming down and then getting into a standoff with Mrs. Cameron. She dashed for the door.

  “Blythe?” Eric said from behind her. Had he run to reception from his office?

  Hand on the door, Blythe wrestled with the childish desire to keep going and make a run for it. Except he might chase her. In front of that horrible, judgmental woman. Her nape prickled and she sensed h
im right behind her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see Matt.” Her car sat in the place she’d parked it, beckoning. She could be through those doors and in it before he could move.

  No, she couldn’t, and she was behaving like a complete idiot. This ranked way up there with hiding from him outside St. Peter’s. Ghost Falls was a small town, and as much as she wanted to avoid contact, she could only ever be somewhat successful. Mentally hauling on her big girl panties, she turned and faced him. “But if he’s not here, I can speak to you.”

  “How good of you?” His lips twitched.

  God that expression hit her like a punch to the chest. Memories of their time together washed over her. Eric leaning over his kitchen counter as they made dinner together. Eric, firelight flickering across the aquiline lines of his face, as he handed her a glass of wine. Eric cradling her head between his palms as his big body pinned her to his bed. She loved that freaking expression. It rated as one of her top five. The way he laughed with his eyes and dared her not to smile.

  She cleared the tightening in her throat and took a deep breath. “It won’t take long.”

  Eric’s twinkle blossomed into his heart-stopping grin. “Take as long as you need.”

  Blythe slammed the door on the memory vault because that grin also belonged in her top five favorite Eric looks. Top five? She nearly snorted aloud. Make that top fifty.

  Dear God, she should never have come here. One look at that face, the sound of his deep bass voice, the smell of his citrusy aftershave, and she wanted to crawl right back between the sheets with him.

  Like most of her family, she was an addict, and Eric Evans was her drug of choice.

  * * * *

  Blythe followed his undeniably still fine ass through an open-plan office. There was no reason why his ass shouldn’t still be fine. Although, she had been hoping her appreciation of it had diminished.