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After the coffee started brewing, he headed toward the bedroom to see if the kids were awake. The last thing Mel needed was them getting in her way in her haste to leave since she had zero time to spare. He poked his head in her bedroom to find the kids mostly asleep, although Kinsley was stirring, so it was hard to tell.
He crept further inside to get a closer look when a few moments later, the door opposite him burst open. His head whipped in the direction of the sound, and his jaw dropped.
He froze. His heart stopped beating. The world stopped spinning as a naked Mel stood in front of him. Water glistened off her milky-white skin and dripped from the dark ropes of her hair onto the floor. When her eyes met his, her hands flew to her ample chest and to the spot between her legs as she screamed. “What are you doing? Get out!”
Oh, crap. Blake squeezed his eyes closed until he saw red spots.
He totally just stood there, staring like a perv. But it wasn’t his fault. S
he caught him off-guard. He was unprepared.
“I didn’t see anything,” he answered quickly—the understatement of a lifetime. He saw everything. It was as if time slowed down for those blissful seconds to allow him to get an eye-full. And he wasn’t gonna lie, he hadn’t minded. Not one bit.
“Out!” Mel screamed again as Blake—hand over his eyes—fumbled for the door opening.
By this time, he heard a rustling sound, followed by the soft voices of Brady and Peter asking what was happening.
Blake turned, eyes squeezed tight, arms out, trying to feel his way for the doorknob. His head smacked something hard—the doorframe he thought—and he groaned.
Once he cleared the bedroom and was back in the living room, the door slammed behind him.
Removing his hand from his eyes, he bent forward, forearms on his thighs as he tried to wipe the image of a nude Mel from his brain. The last thing these kids needed was their manny fantasizing about his boss. And the last thing he needed was to fantasize about anyone, let alone the woman who entrusted the care of her children with him every day.
His boss. With a body like that. Holy crap, just the thought was sexy.
“Erase, erase, erase,” he growled, rubbing his temples.
The coffee pot sputtered, signaling the end of its cycle and interrupting his thoughts, so he did the only thing he could do in this situation—distract himself.
He headed into the kitchen and poured himself a cup first, then found a travel mug for Mel and filled it as well. The least he could do after totally invading her privacy and seeing her naked was offer her some coffee to-go.
When he heard the door open, he headed into the living room and sheepishly held the travel mug out to her—a peace offering. He didn’t dare meet her eye when she snatched it from his hand, a trio of rug rats trailing her groggily.
Blake greeted the kids who announced they wanted to watch cartoons before breakfast, then waited as Mel grabbed her briefcase and jacket. When he stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the door, he said, “I’m sorr—”
A hand over his mouth silenced him. “Just. Forget it,” she said, her voice tight.
His gaze latched onto hers. He could smell the faint scent of the soap she used as the honey of her eyes pierced straight through him. Sparks ignited where her hand met his lips, and a ball of fire settled low in his gut, and he was hit with the insatiable—and hugely inappropriate—urge to nip at her palm.
He dragged a breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as every nerve ending where his lips met her palms came alive.
What was he doing? Thoughts of Jen flashed through his head. He swallowed, and Mel ripped her hand away as though she knew the trajectory of his thoughts.
He inhaled a shaky breath, hoping for the oxygen to return to his brain. But he knew he was in trouble. Mel was an attractive woman, no doubt. He’d thought so since the first day he laid eyes on her at The Burnt Bean, but he had grown even more attracted to her these past couple weeks. And now he had a very vivid picture in his head of what she looked like naked. Not helping.
Who would’ve thought there were two doors into her bathroom? Someone who didn’t have a private master bath, you dimwit.
Blake shifted his gaze to the ground for fear he’d say something idiotic and make the situation worse. His brain wasn’t exactly firing on all synapses at the moment.
“So, I should be home by four today,” she said, her voice calm.
“Got it.” Blake ruffled his hair, trying to keep his cool, then risked a glance at her.
She bit her thumbnail. Her face was free of makeup except for the gloss on her lips. Her thick, dark lashes framed her amber eyes, and her damp hair had started to dry in soft waves around a face. Her beauty was so effortless, it struck him in the chest like an arrow.
“You’re staring,” Mel said with a raised brow.
“I’m not.” Blake raised his hands. “I swear, I’ve erased it from my memory.”
