“That’s amazing. Thank you.” She turned and led him to the bathroom, her mouth moving a mile a minute, filling him in on her disastrous day starting with the mouse and the coffee pot. She felt awkward about the fact that, despite what he said, she clearly interrupted what was obviously a much more glamorous night, all for him to shove his hands down her toilet.
Once inside the bathroom, she shifted on her feet. The space was already small, but with the two of them encased inside, it may as well have been a closet. Suddenly, the air felt thick and hot.
She loosened the collar of her shirt, and the gesture caught Blake’s eye. With a grin, he said, “Why don’t you go ahead and take care of the kids, get them settled, and I’ll be out when I’m done. Sound good?” he asked as he snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.
“Um, okay. Yeah.” Mel turned and bumped into the doorframe.
“Ow.” Rubbing her head, she left to the sound of his soft chuckle, her cheeks burning.
MEL NESTLED IN BETWEEN her three children. Kinsley lay on her lap, with Brady and Peter pressed into her sides. She could feel the soft rise and fall of their breath and knew they were growing tired, yet fighting sleep so they could see Blake.
There was a soft rap at her bedroom door, followed by Blake peeking his head inside. “All clear,” he said. “Spider-Man is currently sanitizing in some bleach I found under the sink, and the toilet is as good as new.”
Mel sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
“Are you going to read to us now?” Kinsley asked, her voice soft as she rubbed her sleepy eyes.
Blake smiled. “I promised, didn’t I?”
Mel gently moved Kinsley off her lap and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“You can stay,” Blake said.
“Yeah, Mom, stay.” Peter yawned.
“Um.” Mel hesitated, then hooked a thumb toward the door. “That’s okay. I need to finish the dishes anyway, but I’ll be right outside,” she said, then hurried from the room.
Once outside, she pressed herself against the wall separating her bedroom from the living room, listening to the soft murmur of voices from within. And every time she heard Blake’s voice, her stomach gave a little jolt.
She lied. There were no dishes in her sink waiting to be washed, but she couldn’t bear staying in the room. It would feel too much like a family, a solid unit, when they were anything but. Blake had only been with them a few weeks, and she already found herself wishing for a life she didn’t have. One where she had a teammate. Someone to lean on. Support. Love. Stability. A father. A husband. Someone like him.
He was dangerous. Being around him was hazardous for her mental state.
The last thing she needed in her life was a man storming into their lives and complicating things. Especially not her manny. Not only did he work for her, but he was doing so to prove to his soon-to-be fiancé’s family that he’d make a good husband. He’d be leaving them soon, and he was proving himself almost a little too much.
When she heard the bedroom door creak open a minute later, she sprung off the wall. How long had she been standing there, lost in her thoughts?
She smoothed a hand down her jeans and her rumpled t-shirt, wondering what Blake thought of her. She must look like crap in comparison to the girlfriend he just left.
“Oh, hey,” he said, when he noticed her standing there.
She ran a hand self-consciously through her hair, then hugged her arms. “Hey.” She took a step forward. “Thank you again. Running the kids to the convenience store a few blocks down all day tomorrow would’ve been a chore, especially when none of their bladders seem to be on the same schedule.”
He gave a little shrug. “It’s no big deal. I was glad to help. Besides,” he ran a hand over the back of his neck, his expression sheepish, “it was good to feel needed.”
“Oh, I’m sure your girlfriend needs you for plenty of things.” She meant to tease, but it came out flat.
Blake shook his head and laughed. “Actually, you’d be surprised how little she does.”
“Of course.” Mel rolled her eyes at herself. “She has people to do that kind of stuff for her.” She grimaced as the words left her mouth, realizing they sounded crass. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“No. It’s okay. You’re not wrong.”
Mel nodded in understanding. “I don’t have a coffee pot anymore, so I can’t offer you a cup of coffee, but would you like a glass of wine?” she asked, heading into the kitchen. She paused at the sight of the empty bottle on the counter. Oh, right. “Er, scratch that. It seems I’m out.”
Blake followed behind, the sound of his feet soft over the floor as he opened her refrigerator and pulled out two juice boxes, then waved them enticingly out in front of her.
She laughed and grabbed one. “I guess this will have to do. Couch or table?”