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“And make that two-hour drive after a long day? No way,” Morgan said. “Besides, I planned on making a pancake breakfast for the kids tomorrow.”
He set up two sleeping bags for his nephews in his workout room. Aileen and Jaleel were on the pullout sofa in the TV/guest room.
Blake steered clear of him for the rest of the night and disappeared as soon as Ciara was settled. A cowardly move. He deserved an explanation. She owed him that much.
With company downstairs, the only private options for a discussion were his room or hers. No way in hell would he be going to Blake’s room tonight like a hurt little puppy begging her to level with him. Nope. Morgan Raines did not stoop to things like that. He’d been fine for years without a woman, he’d be fine without Blake.
But his resolve did not exactly help him sleep. He sat up waiting a good part of the night, hoping she would knock on his door and ask to talk. As the hours wore on and that did not happen, he started thinking about how they could possibly go on until the summer. Asking her to leave would be best for him, but it would crush Ciara. Yeah, this was the very reason he’d warned himself not to get involved with her from the start.
Too bad he hadn’t listened.
Bright and early the next morning, Morgan made blueberry walnut pancakes while Blake fried up sausage and eggs, both putting on an act as if nothing had changed. Blake’s act was so good Morgan almost wondered if he’d heard things right last night. But his sister gave him looks that let him know she was concerned.
Last night he had let Ciara’s comment about Blake being his fiancée go unanswered, talking ball with Jaleel and Harper in hopes of covering over it. When Blake and Aileen came back to the living room with a mended Kareem and Phil got Ciara and his two nephews playing some kind of card game, Morgan had left the room, using the excuse of getting snacks for the kids. Upon returning, he’d joined the kids’ card game with Phil until the Sheehans went home.
Yesterday his sister had told him she was happy for him, having found Blake and what she could see they had together. Now she had to be puzzling over how they could marry if Blake was going to move to Massachusetts and teach at Harvard. Not exactly commuting distance. Back when he had given Ciara permission to tell people he and Blake were engaged, Morgan had only considered the possibility of her talking with Trent or someone involved with his business, or even Fawn.
Yeah, it kind of backfired on him.
Shortly after noon, Aileen and her family left to head home to Brooklyn. Once they were gone, Morgan was tempted to ask Blake to meet him in his room to talk, but he did not want to be the one to make that move. On principle, Blake was the one who should approach him, but all morning she had avoided direct eye contact with him and now she was conveniently working on a jigsaw puzzle with Ciara that she’d gotten as a gift from her cousins. His daughter had no school this week, and Morgan would be back at work tomorrow, so Blake would not have a difficult time dodging him.
And apparently that was her goal.
But why? Why would she pretend she wanted more of a relationship with him when she had planned on leaving all along?
Were all women so flimsy when it came to honor and courage and loyalty? How could he have let Blake into his heart? After his disaster with Fawn, he had promised himself never to do that again. To stay on guard and never leave himself open.
He closed himself in his office for the rest of the afternoon. Two could play the same game.
As if on cue, a phone call came in to his landline—and the Caller ID read Fawn Reynolds. Could this holiday get any worse?
He picked up quickly because there was an extension in the living room where Blake and Ciara were. “Hello, Fawn.”
“Morgan. Merry Christmas.”
“Same to you.” Morgan went silent. Best to let her make the first move.
Finally she said in a cheery tone, “I’m calling to wish my daughter a merry Christmas and see if she got the gift I sent.”
“No gift came in from you.”
“It didn’t? My assistant must have forgotten. It will be there this week.”
Her assistant probably picked it out too. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
“I would like to talk to Ciara. By the way, does she have her own phone number?”
“If she did, you wouldn’t be getting it.”
Fawn tsked. “You can’t keep her from me, ya know. This will only make you look bad in court.”
“I’m not keeping her from you. I just want any contact to be supervised. I have that right legally.”
“Then put her on the phone. Now.” She barked it out like a command.
He bit back the remark on the tip of his tongue. “I have to go get her. Hold on. She’s in another room working on a jigsaw puzzle with my fiancée.” Yeah, he felt like a fraud saying it, but he needed Fawn to take that message to her attorney.
The sight of Blake and Ciara sitting on the floor, heads together, one of the cats curled up at his daughter’s side, made his heart clench. “Ciara,” he said, and they both looked up. “Come with me to my office.”
