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Morgan smiled. “No way would I miss that. Not when the two of you have been chattering about her costume for weeks now.”
“And Sunday we are taking Ciara and her two friends to a corn maze. You still coming?”
“Hey, I wouldn’t miss it. This Halloween corn maze thing is something I’ve got to see. Where I grew up in the city, kids just went around spray painting shit and throwing eggs.”
Blake laughed and said good night, her soft voice and the floral scent of her hair wafting toward him.
And he knew her enticing presence was the one thing that could take his mind off his worries—but put it somewhere it did not belong.
* * *
Because Morgan’shouse was not in a Halloween-friendly neighborhood, not to mention the awkwardness his wrought iron electric security gate would add to the handling of trick-or-treaters, Blake had suggested they instead plan on taking Ciara to the Halloween parade in Greenport that included trick-or-treating at the local shops as well as children’s activities in Mitchell Park.
In the weeks leading up to the parade, Blake and Ciara had spent a great deal of time discussing what Ciara should be for Halloween. Finally Ciara came up with a drawing she made herself of a cosmic alien witch. Blake loved her ideas for the costume. They found multicolored neon leggings online as well as a tunic with glittery stars on it. The day of the parade, Blake helped Ciara put a rainbow of wild temporary colors in her hair that she then tied into many pigtails all around her head. Then making blue and green circles on her face with makeup sticks Blake found was the finisher. Except Ciara insisted Blake also paint her face and do her hair the same way, even though she would just be wearing jeans and a jacket. Of course, she gave in, and the way Morgan’s smile lingered on Blake all that day made it well worth it.
Although, she was not quite sure if the smile meant what she thought it did. Blake could not always read Morgan’s expressions. He had a silent, mysterious quality and a confident strength and even when he was laughing she sensed a hidden side to him. Most days he took Ciara to school and went off to Riverhead, the location of his company’s East Coast branch. He’d recently had one overnight in Chicago and another in Atlanta, but most of the time he was home for dinner and Blake was starting to feel like the three of them were a family.
Dangerous thoughts. Yep, she knew that.
Especially since Morgan was a wild card. He always behaved as a loving and attentive father to Ciara. But with Blake, he was sometimes fun and teasing, sometimes withdrawn and quiet; other times he was all business, often warm and helpful, but a few times he was downright taciturn. Those were the times she had noticed him staring at her with those penetrating gray eyes of his—staring at her the way a man who desired her would.
Usually she would look away and pretend she did not see it, but she promised herself that, just once, she was going to meet his gaze full-on and see how he reacted. Blake would be lying to herself if she denied how much she was attracted to him. At night in bed he was her most frequent fantasy. But she loved this job and did not want to do anything that might jeopardize it. And she loved Ciara and had to stay disciplined for her sake. The dear girl already had one messy “mother” situation. She did not need another.
Ciara had arranged to meet up at the parade with Shala and Roni, two girls from school who’d become her best friends. At first Blake was a little nervous and wondered if the kids ever talked about Ciara having a nanny instead of a mother, but at the Halloween parade she learned that Shala’s mom was divorced and no longer spoke to her ex and Roni had two gay men as parents. So Ciara’s family was not all that unusual.
The children marched in the parade along with goblins and big floats filled with witches and ghosts. After the parade, Blake and Morgan took the three girls to Mitchell Park for races and games and crafts.
While Ciara was busy painting a pumpkin, Morgan told her, “Blake and I are going to ride the carousel.”
Blake just looked at him, surprised, but he gave her one of those smiles that would melt any woman’s panties right off, and she went along, saying, “I guess she’s got plenty of supervision there right now.”
“You are getting worse than me,” he said. “Ciara is fine and will probably be glad to not have us looking over her shoulder every minute.” Still, he’d made it clear to Ciara that she was not to leave the pumpkin-painting table until they got back.
The antique carousel in the park had carved horses of different colors, and before she knew it, Morgan was lifting her onto one of them as if she weighed nothing.
Did the girly girl in her like him being a big strong man? You bet.
He took the horse next to her and watched her with a slightly amused look. What did that look mean? She tried not to be uncomfortable under his gaze, but her usual method of jumping into conversation to pierce through the awkwardness would not work with the loud music playing.
When the music stopped, he dismounted quickly and used his hands on her waist to get her off the horse. For a moment they stood face to face so close, Blake’s hands on his shoulders, that her breath caught. Was he going to kiss her? It looked as if he wanted to. And, God, she wanted it to happen, to hell with the complications.
But the moment was broken by a little boy’s voice saying, “Are you a zombie?”
Blake realized he was talking to her and remembered her hair was sticking out all over her head in multicolored pigtails, her face covered with blue and green designs.
She turned away and said to the boy, “No, I am a cosmic alien witch.”
The boy made a face at her and ran off and Morgan burst into laughter.
Blake crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Kid acts like cosmic alien witches aren’t cool.”
Morgan’s hand reached out and his fingers gently brushed her cheek, his tone intimate as he said, “Well, you are the most beautiful witch I’ve ever seen.”
As if he’d surprised himself with that gesture and his words, he made a fast pivot and started back toward Ciara, saying, “She’s probably finished with her pumpkin by now.”
Blake hurried alongside him, her brain scrambling over what just went down, making it “okay” by telling herself he only meant her costume was beautiful. But she knew it was more than that, and she was grateful he’d stopped himself because things were going so well and she knew they could get really messy if they crossed that line.
After admiring Ciara’s painted pumpkin, Morgan said, “It’s four thirty. Aren’t you getting hungry? Maybe we should—”
