“You don’t want her to meet him?”
“I don’t know.” I study his fingers, which are about twice as big as mine. “He told me he didn’t have a very good relationship with either of his parents, and the way he described them and his childhood didn’t make it seem like his parents would be people you’d want to know or have around your child.”
“Has your ex been involved at all?” he asks, and I shake my head, unwilling to tell him exactly how uninvolved he’s been. When Sampson was born, he didn’t sign his birth certificate, and when we came home from the hospital, he pretty much left us to do our own thing. He was either working or out with friends, and when he was around, he pretended like Sampson didn’t exist and that I was a roommate just staying in his house. “You should tell him to fuck off.”
“I know.” And I do know I should tell him to take his wants and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine. But there is a part of me that understands how important family is, and even though Lex isn’t involved in Sampson’s life, his parents could fill a little of that void—maybe not right now, but in the future—for him.
“I can see you’re not going to do that, so I think you need to figure out for yourself how much you’re willing to give and what you’re willing to do. It’s one thing to want your ex to have a relationship with your son, but it’s another thing to tie yourself up in knots for his parents.”
“You’re right,” I agree, because he is right. “It’s just . . . I mean, how do I even know my ex wasn’t lying about his parents? For all I know, they could be the nicest people.”
“They could be.” His fingers squeeze mine. “You won’t know unless you meet with them.” My spine stiffens at the idea. “If you want, I could go with you when that happens. You can feel them out and see if you’d be willing to let them meet Sampson.” He turns his hand so his fingers lace with mine. “No matter what happens, you just need to remember you are in control; nothing can happen without your consent.”
“Thank you.” I lock my eyes with his, wanting him to see how much the last few minutes have meant to me. It’s one thing to share these kinds of things with my mom, who is beyond partial, and another to have them with an outside person who is not at all involved and has nothing to gain.
“Anytime.” His eyes drop to our hands that are still interlocked, and I wonder what he’s thinking. He’s not someone who can be easily read. His emotions are not visible through his expressions or mannerisms. He’s a mystery, and even though I shouldn’t want to solve the puzzle that is Blake, I still have the desire to find all the flat-edged pieces that belong to him so I can fit him together.
“We should get to work,” I say after a moment, and he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine.
With a jerk of his chin, he stands, pulling me up with him, then untangles our fingers, letting me go. I shouldn’t feel alone, but I do. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Sure.” I hold my breath and watch as he turns and walks away. It’s not the first time I’ve felt confused when he’s left my presence, but it is the first time I’ve felt as if I should have said something or done something to make him stay.
When he disappears out of sight, I look around the empty space surrounding me for a clue, from the gorgeous view of the tree-lined vista out the twenty-foot windows, to the interior of the lodge, and neither is able to tell me whether it’s me or him who is running now.
Chapter 6
EVERLY
“Good, you’re here,” Blake says, stepping into the office, and it takes a lot of willpower to keep focused on the computer and to not pick up the stapler sitting a couple of inches away and toss it at his big head.
You would think that, after the moment we shared a couple of days ago, things between us would be different, but since then, he’s gone back to avoiding me, which is beyond annoying at this point. And I know he’s avoiding me. He’s left the kitchen the moment I walked in, turned around and gone the opposite direction when he’s seen me coming, and sent my calls to voice mail more than once.
“Are you ignoring me?” he asks. I hear the chair across from me creak under his weight as he takes a seat.
“I’m working. What do you need?” I keep my focus on the computer, wanting to make sure I don’t mess up the food order that Janet emailed to me this morning.