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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 sh

e didn’t dare admit, was that as much as she resented Craig for abandoning her, deep down, she understood 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.

Mel sighed and closed her eyes as the coffee finished brewing. She had ten minutes of solitude, and this was how she chose to spend it?

“Mommy?”


Tags: Tia Souders Single In the City Romance