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When she said nothing, just continued to stare at him like he was dumb, he added, “Come on, Mel. Please. Just give it some thought. I’ve got no family, nothing tying me down. It’s not a big deal.” He shrugged.
“Except a girlfriend who you may propose to.”
Blake didn’t even blink as he said, “It’s not an issue.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her and waved her toward the house. “Why don’t you take the kids and go back in. Tell Gina you’re going to work up an offer and will let her know in the morning. I have a phone call to make, and then I’ll meet you back at the car.”
Mel nodded, if reluctantly, and turned to wrangle the kids, while Blake plucked his phone from his pocket. He exhaled a long breath, staring out at the large maple as he clutched the device. Then he dialed Jen’s number and listened to it ring.
It went straight to voicemail, so he waited for the beep, then left a message. “Jen, it’s Blake. Listen, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this last week, and I think we should talk. Let me know when you get this.” He clicked off, noting how it was probably the first time he had ever ended a message without saying ‘I love you.’ But he knew what he needed to do.
MEL
ON THE RIDE HOME, BLAKE was quiet. Mel assumed he was lost in his thoughts. Hopefully, not because he regretted his offer to her. It wasn’t like she actually entertained taking him up on his offer to co-sign. She didn’t. But if he retracted his offer after the fact, that would be embarrassing and a little awkward for them both.
Mel peered over at him out of the corner of her eye. One hand gripped the steering wheel, while the other rubbed over the scruff on his jaw. A tiny crease formed between his brow that let Mel know that he was deep in thought about something.
Mel cleared her throat, readying herself to break the silence, when Brady asked, “Are we gonna live there, Mommy?”
Mel twisted in her seat to look at him and smiled. “I don’t know. I’d like to,” she said, careful not to get his hopes up, least not hers.
“What about Mr. Blake? Is he gonna live there with us?” Peter asked.
Mel nearly choked and glanced at Blake as her face flushed. The hand that had been rubbing his jaw paused and a small smile curved the corner of his mouth.
“Uh . . . honey, we talked about this. Remember? Mr. Blake is only with us a little while longer, and then he has to return to his real job.”
“But I thought he might want to be our dad,” Peter said.
Mel’s stomach sunk. It was amazing how one innocent question could bulldoze her heart.
She swallowed through the pain, her face burning. She didn’t dare look over at Blake as she forced a smile and focused on sounding cheerful, when she said, “No, silly. Why would you think that?”
Peter’s shoulder slumped in defeat, and he turned his eyes toward the window. “He seems like a dad,” he mumbled.
“Yeah,” Kinsley chimed in. “He plays with us and makes good mac and cheese and does funny voices in books. He’s at our house a lot, and he seems to like us.”
Mel’s smile faded as her heart lurched. Oh, to live in the world of a four-year-old where silly voices and pasta with processed cheese were the prerequisites for the making of a father.
Mel shifted in her seat, uncomfortable and at a loss for words. If a giant fault line in the earth opened up and swallowed her whole, she’d say a prayer of thanks. When she tried to speak, all she managed was a dry squeak.
Beside her, Blake chuckled. “Guys, give your mom a break. And I might not be your nanny anymore, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll visit all the time, I’ll still do funny voices, and make you mac and cheese. Got it?” He glanced in the rearview mirror and watched as they all bobbed their heads, seeming appeased.
“Thanks,” Mel murmured, and she wondered if what he said was true. Because how could he make such promises when he had his own life back in the city?
CHAPTER TWENTY
BLAKE
When Jen finally called him back that afternoon, it was with relief Blake set up a time to meet at her apartment. He wasn’t the kind of coward to end a relationship over the phone, nor would he put her through a breakup in a public place. But this was the right thing. He was sure of it. Mel or no Mel, his relationship with Jen would never work long-term. Not when the things they wanted out of life were too different.
He rang her doorbell as nerves jumped in his chest. A moment later, she ushered him inside. She wore a silk blouse, pencil skirt, heels, and a cautious expression. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. Their last outing with her friends hadn’t exactly been intimate, and they hadn’t fully reconciled since the botched dinner party. Usually, regardless of the spat, Blake made amends in order to appease her and put them back on solid ground. It was easier that way. Besides, he liked making her happy, even if it meant bending to her will. But not this time. This time, there was no smoothing the choppy waters.
He followed her into the cavernous living room, her heels clicking on the floor as they went. The air held a hint of orange and clove, a sign her cleaning crew had been there that morning. The marble counters in the kitchen gleamed as she paused in front of the giant island—at least three times the size of the one in the home Mel had looked at—and asked if he wanted wine.
“No, I’m good.” Blake shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward and unsure of how to start the conversation they needed to have.
“Did you just come from the shop?” she asked, frowning at his casual attire.
