meet your parents.”
A strange silence settled between them. It felt like Michelle had gone rigid in his arms. He loosened his grip on her, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at her. When she rolled onto her back, she didn’t meet his gaze immediately.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, running her fingers back and forth over the tuft of dark hair on his chest. “I know you’ve got so much going on.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“No, no, don’t worry about it for this visit. Next time.” She offered a small smile, but it didn’t look genuine. “Promise.”
He nodded, something uncomfortable and unknown swirling inside him as a small, internal voice whispered to him that he’d been rejected. Turned down. Cast aside. He’d always avoided relationships just so he’d never have to feel this way.
But he didn’t want to think about that right now. Even though he’d much rather spend the next few hours here at Michelle’s side, it was clear that she was ready for the night to end.
Blake came to his feet, hunting down his discarded clothes. He stepped into his underwear, and then snatched up his pants from their crumpled spot on the ground.
Michelle watched him with her hands tucked under her cheek. “Are you leaving already?”
He drew his brows together. “I thought you just told me to get out.”
“No. I said you shouldn’t spend the night, not that you had to leave now.”
Confusion swirled inside him. He tossed his arms out to his sides. “Well, shit. I don’t know how to read between the lines then. I thought I was doing what you wanted.”
Michelle pushed to sitting, an unknown emotion creasing her face. He couldn’t read her, probably due to his amazing lack of relationship knowledge.
And maybe he should have just stuck to that path. It was easier to just run away when things got tough. He could handle challenges in any arena except emotions. And hell, who could blame him? He’d never seen a good example of what sticking around could achieve. His own parents had broken up when he was four. They’d both re-married multiple times. Nothing lasted for long, that much was certain.
Maybe he’d already run his course with Michelle.
“Blake.” Her voice was soft now, and sad. “It’s not that I don’t want you here. We just have to play it carefully. I have a daughter.”
“I don’t know why you act like I don’t know that.”
Her lips thinned. “It’s part of how I consider the choices I make. I don’t want to thrust you into her life, or into my parent’s life. We should ease in slowly. That’s all.”
Some of the tension dissipated inside him as he grabbed for his shirt. He was quiet as he buttoned it, her words echoing through him.
“Will you snuggle just a little bit longer?” she asked.
He smirked, turning toward her. Mischief had replaced her shrouded expression from before. And damn…it was hard to say no when she was naked and asking him to stay.
“Of course,” he said, heading back for the bed.
Because the truth was, he wanted to be here.
He just hoped she craved it as much as he did.
14
“Mollie! Over here!”
Michelle squinted against the sun as she watched her daughter skip away down the sidewalk to investigate some spring flowers growing in a large barrel. She grinned as Mollie held up a finger and then dipped down to get a big whiff of the blossoms. Her daughter let out an exaggerated, “Ahhh.”
“Come on, peanut,” Michelle’s father called out. “We don’t want to be late for lunch.”
Mollie’s face lit up, and she raced back down the sidewalk toward Michelle and her parents. The four of them had enjoyed a fun touristy day in San Francisco, which was as much for her parents as it was for Michelle and Mollie. Yet as they prepared to head into the restaurant for lunch, she couldn’t help but think of Blake’s disappointment the night before.
Maybe she should have invited him to lunch after all. She’d been second-guessing herself ever since. Half of her wanted to sing it from the rooftops that she and Blake were an item.
The other half of her? Scared shitless that she was about to choose wrong yet again.
Except you’ve already chosen.
It was true, no matter how much indecision plagued her. She’d chosen Blake. She’d opened up to him. She’d welcomed him into her home, into her bed, into the heart of her daughter.
Now, God help her, she didn’t want to be wrong, except it seemed