“And he split,” Blake said, filling in the blanks.
“He didn’t last long.” Mel remembered the look on his face when they found out they were having triplets—the sheer panic. His eyes had gone glazed, his jaw slack, and he had been quiet the whole way home from the doctor’s. “We weren’t even home from the hospital twenty-four hours before he bailed. He went out to get diapers and never came back.”
The muscle in Blake’s jaw flickered. “I’m sorry. He didn’t deserve them. Or any of you.” His eyes locked with hers. “My brother and I were left as babies. I’ve had my whole life to wrap my head around how you could abandon your own child, but I still don’t understand it.”
He was left . . . Mel had already known he had spent his childhood in foster care, but hearing him say it now made her feel for him that much more.
She reached out and squeezed his shoulder, feeling the heat of him through his shirtsleeve, and pulled back.
Clearing her throat, she prayed he was oblivious to the thumping of her pulse. “I hate that my kids don’t have a father,” she confessed. It was true, and maybe it was obvious to feel this way, but it was something she never said out loud before. “It bothers me. Every day. I constantly wonder how it’ll affect them in the long run—if they’ll feel unloved, abandoned, or if they’ll search in all the wrong places for a father figure to replace him. Especially Kinsley.”
“They won’t.” Blake said, his dark eyes fierce, jaw set.
“How do you know?”
“You’re a good mom. You don’t give yourself enough credit. The fact that you care enough to worry means you won’t allow it to happen.”
She smiled. He was maybe the first person, other than her own parents, to tell her that. “Thanks.”
Blake relaxed back into the couch, glancing around him in the silence, and Mel wondered how she looked, how her apartment looked, through his eyes. Did he see every imperfection—the small tear in the couch, the scuffed paint, and the small hole in the rug? Or did those details fade away and blend in as he got to know her and the children? Like a person who became more attractive once you knew them. Did it even matter?
“Please tell me he’s at least helping you guys out,” Blake said.
“For a while, he sent the occasional check. But I haven’t heard from him in a while.”
Blake raised a brow. “You’re smart, so I’m sure you know that if you took him to court, he’d be legally mandated to give you quite a bit every month for three kids.”
“I know.” This was the same battle she had with her parents, but in the end, they let it go. “But, at first, I thought he’d come back. Then I didn’t want a court battle, and I’ll be honest, once I got over the sting of it all, my pride kicked in. I didn’t want his help. I was angry and hurt and confused, but I wanted to do it on my own. Stand on my own two feet and succeed. To prove, maybe more to myself than anybody, that I could do this on my own. I didn’t need him.” She sighed and shook her head, dropping her gaze to her hands. “I know that probably sounds so stupid.”
“No. It sounds brave.”
When she glanced up at him, the look on his face was so sincere, so honest, she continued because it felt good to put a voice to all these things she never spoke of. “There are so many days where I look at this tiny apartment and wonder if I chose right.” She toyed with the hem of her sleeve as she spoke. “But I know Craig. He’s not one to part with money. It’s how he is. Or was. And I didn’t want him asking for shared custody just to punish me or so that he wouldn’t have to pay as much. Because he didn’t want them, that much was clear. I could totally see him dropping the kids off at his parent’s place or just leaving them with some crap-sitter, all because he would consider it bought time, even if he didn’t have to deal with them. At the time, taking nothing seemed so much easier.”
And now, if everything went right, she had the chance to turn things around with this promotion. More money meant she could finally get out of the city and buy a house. As soon as she signed her contract and got her first check, she’d crunch the numbers and see what she could do, at least come up with a game plan.
Blake pressed his hand over the one toying with her sleeve, and her stomach squeezed. Slowly, she glanced up at him to find his gaze steady on her face. A lock of hair fell over her eye, obscuring her view, while the warmth of his fingers zipped through her veins.
She swallowed as he moved his hand and slowly brushed the rogue hair out of her face. But instead of pulling back, he hesitated. The palm of his hand hovered just above her cheek before he trailed his thumb down the side of her face, to the curve of her jaw, the side of her neck, and she shivered.
“You’re pretty incredible, you know that?”
Her breath snagged in her chest, the rumble of his voice sending her heart thumping into her ribs. She closed her eyes a moment, trying to ground herself. Instead, she was greeted with the scent of cedar and something spicy.
When she finally opened them a moment later, Blake dropped his hand, and she had half a mind to snatch it back.
She licked her lips, and his eyes shifted to the movement. As if tethered to her, he leaned closer, and she thought about kissing him. How it would feel—amazing.
What a kiss from Blake would mean—she had no idea.
And then she remembered all the reasons she couldn’t.
Her kids.
His girlfriend.
The fact that he was her manny, and she needed him.
She needed to focus on work, changing her life, helping the kids adjust.