“Okay. Well, it’s just something to think about. I haven’t decided anything. Maybe once I start getting my increase in pay regularly, I’ll see where I’m at.”
Somewhere in the background, an alarm sounded. Her mother was forever setting alarms to remind her of things. Sometimes, she set them, then forgot what they were supposed to remind her of. But this time, she blinked down at the phone and said, “Oh, that’s our alarm to remind us about Bingo at the church.”
Great. So her parents had a better social life than she did.
“Okay, I’ll let you go,” Mel said.
“Love you. Give the kids hugs and kisses,” her mother said and then dropped her phone, right there on the table, forgetting to hit End first.
Mel clicked off the call and tossed her phone onto the couch beside her. Strange that they seemed so weird about the prospect of her looking for a job near them. She thought they had wanted her to move close by. Now she didn’t know what to think.
Regardless, she’d file the idea away. It was there and viable. A real possibility. But, for now, she’d take things one day at a time and see where things took her. Maybe they’d decide she was so amazing as managing editor, they’d give her an even larger raise than promised.
Ha! One can dream.
BLAKE
BLAKE’S STOMACH TWISTED in knots as he knocked on Mel’s door Monday morning. He’d tried calling Sunday to apologize and smooth the waters, but no matter how many times he dialed her, she never answered. He had no idea what her silence meant. Maybe she was busy or just wanted the rest of the weekend to decompress. Or maybe she was so angry with him that she’d call the deal off and he’d be out of a gig.
Before he was ready, she answered in a flurry of movement, waving him inside. He took in her flustered expression and asked, “Running late?” At least he hoped she was running late. It was either that or she was still angry.
“Yeah. Majorly late. Kinsley was up half the night with a bad cough, so I got zero sleep, and I must’ve slept through my alarm.” Mel ran her hands through her tangled dark hair, mussing her bedhead further.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” With any luck, she was in such a hurry, Saturday was far from her mind.
“Coffee. I need coffee.” She bit her lip, stress creasing her forehead. “But I have no time.”
The leggings and t-shirt she must’ve worn to sleep clung to her every curve, and Blake tried his best not to stare. “I need to shower, then bolt,” she added, then started to turn away from him, and he realized that if he wanted to say something about the weekend, now was his chance.
He caught her arm as she turned. “Wait. Mel . . .”
She glanced back at him, eyes wide, as if startled.
“About Saturday, I’m really sorry. I meant it when I said I had no idea. I would never—”
“I believe you,” she said.
He exhaled in relief but kept hold of her wrist a moment, reading her eyes. The warmth of her skin soaked through his bones. No trace of anger remained in her expression, so he had no choice but to take her word for it and hope he hadn’t truly hurt her feelings.
“Are you sure? Because—”
“I’m positive.” She tried for a smile, which fell a little flat. But then she offered him a little shrug. “It was . . .” She chewed her lip for a moment, her eyes darting to the left as she chose her words. “. . . embarrassing, I guess? And I might’ve let my pride get the best of me, so I’m sorry if it caused any tension for you and Jen. I probably overreacted. It’s kind of a sensitive subject for me, but you’ve never treated me like anything but a mother and a woman, the same as anyone else. And I don’t see you as being the type to judge the haves and have nots, so I believe you.” She nodded in affirmation. “No harm done.”
Blake exhaled with relief. “Good. Good,” he repeated, though he still felt kind of crappy about it. Maybe it was because he had expected more of an effort in smoothing the waters.
“Um . . . My arm?” Mel lifted it slightly, and Blake realized he still had a hold of her. “I might need it to shower.”
“Oh!” Blake dropped her arm and offered a nervous laugh. “Sorry.”
Mel glanced at the clock. “Looks like I have five minutes. I better hurry,” she said, hustling toward the bathroom.
“No worries. I’ll get the kids as they get up,” he said to her back. “You just get ready. I’ll make coffee, and . . .”
Why did it seem like he was rambling? And why was he staring after her like some kind of creep.
She waved him on as she closed the bathroom door behind her.
He shook his head at himself, then headed into the kitchen to make coffee, wondering what his problem was. He was being weird, and he needed to snap out of it.