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This little girl sees things so differently from most kids her age. It’s a shame her father has had the type of influence where she is acutely aware that he constantly lets her down and is not there for her. How Kyle can justify his actions toward his little girl is beyond me, but you can’t change someone. Lord knows I tried early in our relationship, and look where it got me.
Blake dips his chin. “I believe so, yes. For us to pass this off, we’ll need to get to know each other outside of work, and we only have two weeks to do that.”
Hailee scrunches up her face. “Two weeks?”
“The wedding is in two weeks, Starshine,” I tell her.
“Holy cow, talk about a shotgun wedding.” Hailee snickers.
Blake picks up another chicken finger and raises it into the air. “So, who’s with me? We are going to make us seem like the happiest little family ever, right?”
Hailee giggles, raising a chicken tender in the air to meet his.
I roll my eyes as I look at Blake. “Really? We’re cheers-ing with chicken?”
He waggles his tender a little, crumbs falling to the counter beneath, making Hailee giggle as I groan. “Ugh, fine!” I pick up my last tender and raise it to meet theirs. “To the best fake family ever,” I say monotone.
Hailee smiles wide. “This is going to be so much fun!” The excitement seeps off her in waves and makes me wonder if this is right for her, but it’s too late to shut it down now.
“We’ll make it work. You’ll see,” Blake states.
Letting out a small laugh, I nod. “Yeah, thishasto work,” I mumble.
Because we’re in too deep now, and if Kyle found out Blake and I were faking it to get under his skin, that would make him so undeniably mad I don’t know what he would do. So yeah, we have no choice but to play this out now, even though my attraction to Blake could be an issue. I’m going to have to keep my libido in check. Because, at the end of the day, he is still my boss.
And I can’t jeopardize my career for this.
We eat dinner, and Hailee takes Blake to the living room to sit and watch television while I feed Mr. Muggles.
Stupid cat.
I stand back, watching how Blake interacts with Hailee, and it’s clear he is good with kids. She sits next to him on the sofa, showing him videos on her iPad, and I can’t help but be impressed at how easily she has taken to him. It only makes me want to take him off to the bedroom even more if that is possible.
Moving to the refrigerator, I grab a bottle of Moscato and pour two glasses, then take one over to Blake. I have no idea if he even drinks wine, but I need to be a good host, right? Also, I pick up the box of cupcakes and take them with me, sliding the pack onto the coffee table in front of us. Hailee instantly picks one up and shoves it in her gorgeous little mouth, frosting smattering over her top lip.
Blake glances up at me from the iPad as I hand him the glass, and he smiles, the dimple on his left cheek dipping in, in that cute way it does when he’s happy.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous.
“You gonna sit?” he asks, his fingers brushing mine as he takes the glass from me.
My skin tingles like I’ve been electrocuted by his touch. I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah, of course.”
Our sofa isn’t huge. It’s just Hailee and me here the majority of the time, and Hailee has decided to sit further down the sofa, leaving only a small amount of room for Blake and me to sit. This means as I slide onto the sofa, my leg is pressed hard against his. I try not to let the feeling of touching him get to me, but how do you tuck away a feeling of undeniable lust?
Blake lifts the glass to his lips. “Thanks.” He takes a small sip, then promptly spits the wine back into the glass like he’s just drunk fish water.
I scrunch my brows as Hailee giggles.
Blake recoils. “What the hell is this?”
I grin. “An eight-dollar bottle of Moscato.”
He slides the glass across the coffee table, pushing it further away from him. “Zoey, this is the kind of shit Brianna drinks. You deserve to be drinking better quality than eight-dollar Moscato.”
Smirking, I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip with a shrug. “I happen to like it.”
Blake recoils. “That’s not wine, Zoey. If you’re going to date me—”
