by Patty Blount
“Yeah. Okay.” He took the book she forgot she held, put it on the table. “We don’t have much time before Emmy’s nap time.”
She swallowed hard and managed a smile. She’d forgotten about nap time—just further proof, as if she needed any, that she wasn’t mom material. “Oh. Right. Forgot.”
“Oh, trust me. She won’t.” Gabriel slid the book closer, opened the cover. “I read your newsletter,” he said, turning pages. “Good stuff in there. Did that come from this book?”
Lia coughed once, cleared her throat, tried to talk over the lump still inside. “Some did. I have an agreement with the author to use her work. You’re already well organized but sometimes, you find a new technique, a new tool in your toolbox that can make a big difference.”
He glanced over at her, eyebrows raised. “Um. Thanks. That trick about the dishes? It really helps.”
She smiled. “Glad to hear it.” She angled the book, flipped pages and slid it back. “This is what I wanted to show you. Transformative furniture. Your table takes up a lot of real estate. Look at this one.”
He glanced at the bookcase pictured across the two-page spread she’d indicated and his jaw dropped. It rotated from bookshelf into a table. “How have I never heard of this before? I’m an engineer.”
She shrugged. “Probably because it solves problems you didn’t have.”
“Until now.”
“Until now,” she agreed. “This shelf unit could go right where your dining table is now. You can keep dishes on the shelves, assuming they’re safe around Emmy, and then just swing the shelves into the table formation.”
“Very cool. And it locks into position, so E-Rex here won’t swing on it.”
“Exactly.”
“Only downside is that it needs a few feet of clearance to swing from shelf unit to flat table.”
Lia nodded. “Okay. Good point. How about this one.” She flipped a few pages, showed him another table.
He shot her the side-eye. “There’s no way that tiny console table can seat eight for dinner.”
“It does, but the extenders aren’t self-storing, so what you’re saving in real estate, you may be losing in trying to hide those extra pieces.”
“Still cool, though. If I had free wall space, I’d hang the panels up as artwork, and just pull them off the wall whenever I needed them.”
She stared at him. “That’s…pretty brilliant.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay, let’s look at beds,” Lia said and then bit her lip. That sounded so…so suggestive. She took a glance at Gabriel from beneath her lashes, found a distinct pink flush crawling up his neck. She turned the pages and showed him the Murphy bed systems. “So, we’re looking at what’s currently your family’s main living space. You need shelves and storage. You also need a sofa for at least the five of you to sit on, but hopefully more so you can have friends over. Something like this incorporates the sofa into the bed.”
“Let me see that.” Gabriel tugged on his lips as he studied the image and Lia’s own lips tingled in response. “All you do is move the cushions and the bed lowers right over the sofa?”
“Exactly. Some of the beds don’t lower at all. They rotate.”
“Dad-dee, see?” Emmy shoved her drawing into Gabriel’s hands.
“Ooo, pretty, Emmy. Lots of blue. I like blue.”
“Look at mine, Daddy! Mine’s blue, too. I made my bagel. See? There are the raisins.”
“Yes, that’s a lot of raisins.”
“Fridge, Dad-dee.” Emmy snagged her drawing and tried to stick it to Lia’s refrigerator door. When it floated to the floor, she began to cry.
“Ooo, Emmy. Look what I have.” Lia hurried to a drawer near the sink, took out magnets. “Here we go. Let’s put it on the fridge.” She retrieved the toddler’s scribbles, held it out to her, but Emmy slapped it out of her hands. Lia took the sheet of paper again and stuck it on the door herself.
“Emerson. Not nice.” Gabriel stood, scooped her up in his arms and rocked her. He glanced at Lia’s oven clock. “Eleven-thirty. Right on cue. Sorry. I need to—”
“No!” Emmy cried, holding her arms out to Lia.
“Oh, I, um. Sure. Okay.” Lia caught Emmy as the baby all but pitched herself out of Gabriel’s arms. “It’s okay, sweetie. Are you sleepy? Put your little head down. That’s a girl,” Lia murmured softly as the baby burrowed against her shoulder, wiggling her little butt. Emmy snagged a lock of Lia’s hair that had come loose from its bun, held on.
Gabriel looked gut-punched. He hovered for a minute. Then he went back to the table and pored over the book, glancing up a few times with a frown. Lia shifted the baby, then swayed gently to the song that Maddie was humming from her pillow on the floor, rubbing soft circles on her tiny back. She couldn’t deny that she was honored the baby had wanted her instead of her daddy.
But Gabriel, on the other hand, looked crushed. When Emmy had at last fallen asleep, he stood and held out his arms.
“Here. Let me take her. I’ll put her on your couch with Olivia.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Carefully, she shifted so Gabriel could take the now-sleeping baby from her arms, brushing against her in the process. They both froze. She lifted her eyes to his, found them wide. God, he smelled nice. Not drenched in whatever expensive cologne or body wash Jared used to buy online, but clean. Sweet. Fabric softener. Who knew that could turn her on this much?
He cuddled Emmy against his chest and took her to the living room, asked Olivia to keep an eye on her as he put her on the other end of the sofa. Lia joined him, scooping another pillow off the back and putting it on the floor, in case she rolled off. She covered Emmy with a light throw she kept folded on the back of the couch.
“Thanks, Lia. She’ll be out for a while.”
“No problem. She can stay here while you take Olivia to soccer.”
“Right. Soccer. Almost forgot. Liv, is your show over yet?”
“Twenty more minutes.”
Gabriel smiled tightly so Lia turned and headed back to the kitchen table. Those twenty minutes went by way too fast in her estimation. They went through the book twice and Gabe took notes and even sketched out an idea in his pad.
“It’s over, Daddy. It was so good.”
“What do you say to Lia?”
“Thanks, Lia.”
“Okay. Go home, get your uniform on. We have to go in five minutes.”
“Where, Daddy?”
“Olivia has soccer, Maddie.”
“Can I stay here with Emmy, too? Please? Please, Lia, can I?”
“Sure. You can help me look things up on my computer.”
*
It was well past three o’clock when Emmy stirred, blinking owlishly at Lia. “Hi, Emmy. Did you sleep well?”
Emmy kept blinking.
“Come on. Let’s try the potty, okay?”
Lia grabbed the little plastic ring Gabriel kept in his backpack and took the toddler upstairs but wasn’t fast enough. She wet her pants and Lia’s.
“Uh-oh,” she said and Lia laughed.
“Uh-oh is right. Okay, let’s find new clothes.”
In Gabriel’s backpack, she found another pair of pants for Emmy. In her room, she found a pair of dark blue jeans and a white shirt. She changed Emmy on her bed, making funny faces, and tickling her. While Emmy crawled around on the bed, she’d stepped out of her wet jeans, kicked them to the side, and let out a little scream when the baby shrieked, “Dad-dee!”
“Hi, my Emmy. Hi.”
Lia whipped around. “Gabriel! How did—”
“Maddie let me in. Everything okay here?”
“Dad-dee! I wet.”
“Uh-oh. On the couch?”
“No. On me. But it’s okay. She’s changed. And I’m—”
His eyes skimmed her from head to toe and back up again. “You’re—Oh! Sorry. Right. Thanks for watching them. Bye.” He spun around so fast, Emmy shouted “Weee!”
Lia tugged on her clean pants and a new white T-shirt, and hurried after them. He’d already gotten Maddie up and to the door.
“Gabriel, it was no problem. We had fun, right, Maddie?”
“We did! I played the princess game, Daddy. And I told Lia we’re gonna be princesses for Halloween. And look, Daddy!” She flipped her hair. “Lia got all the knots out of my hair and it didn’t even hurt.”
Gabriel blinked and ran his hand down Maddie’s head. “Oh, wow. That’s great, but it’s time to go home now.”
Maddie stepped outside. Gabriel was right behind her, holding Emmy and the backpack.
“Gabriel?”
“What?”
Lia jerked at the sharpness in his tone. “Nothing. Sorry.”
Lia shut the door after them, wondering what the hell just happened.
Chapter Ten
Today was trash day.
Lia had spent forty minutes with her face pressed to her window, watching Gabriel haul cans, bags, and bins to the curb. He wore well-worn jeans, work boots, and another one of his T-shirts. This one said Daddy Rex.
She knew Emmy’s shirt would say E-Rex. It made her smile.
The man was such fun to watch. She wished she could go out there, flirt with him, maybe even take a nice big bite out of him.
But watching was all she’d permit herself to do.
The way he’d practically run from her had convinced her that keeping some distance was the best decision she could make. So she hadn’t seen him since Saturday, except for Halloween, when all of the Ivers had knocked on her door wearing various princess costumes. Kimberly was dressed as Belle, Olivia wore a Merida costume, Maddie was Cinderella, and baby Emmy was Ariel complete with little coconut bra tied over her jacket. But winner of the best costume went to Gabriel, who wore a Jasmine costume complete with long black wig and exposed belly button. When she opened the door to their knock, he tossed a scrap of carpet at her feet and smiled. “Flying carpet. Get it?”
She did not smile back.
She gave it a lot of thought. Gabriel was a great guy, but she needed to stay away.
Fifteen minutes went by without a Gabriel sighting, and when Lia saw Mrs. Morgan walk back to her own door, Lia figured it was safe to go out to the curb with her own trash.
“Hey, Lia.”
Lia turned, found her next-door neighbor outside. “Hi, Jessica. How’s the little guy?”
“Oh, just about fine now. And he really liked the car. Thanks again for picking up his medicine.”
“No problem.”
“Hey, love the newsletter. Those tips for preparing for flu season are just what I needed after Mason’s ear infection.”
“I’m so glad you liked it! I’ll see you later.” Lia turned, headed for her front door, and froze mid-step.
Gabriel stood on the courtyard steps, staring down at her.
She nodded but he said nothing. Taking that as her cue, Lia turned up the path to her front door.
He hurried down the courtyard steps. “Lia, wait. Please.”
She waited. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. “Um. I…I need to talk to you.”
“I’m busy,” she lied.
He glanced at his door and sighed. “Please? I owe you an apology. An explanation. Could you…could we go inside? I left Emmy alone so I could talk to you and—”
Her heart gave a leap of panic at that. “Fine. Give me a second.”
He flashed her a lightning-fast smile, there and gone before she could react. She locked her front door and followed him up the stairs to the courtyard and to his front door, waited while he unlocked it.
“Okay, Emmy. I’m back.”
“Dad-dee, down. Ee-uh! Hi!”
“Hi, Emmy.” Lia moved for the high chair while Gabriel washed his hands in the sink—which, she happily noted, was full of sudsy water and soaking breakfast dishes. “Can I free her?”
“Um, sure. How about some coffee?”
Why not? “Please.” She put Emmy down while he got her a cup, inserted a pod, pressed the button, handed her the steaming cup when it finished filling. He moved around the small space, got out milk, sugar, a spoon, and watched in silence while she doctored the coffee to her taste.
He made himself a cup, still not saying a word, so she made herself comfortable at the long oak table that split the two rooms, sat back, crossed her legs, sipped her coffee and waited.
He grabbed a plastic party favor bag. “I can offer you candy with your coffee, but that’s about it. Some of it’s left over from Halloween and some of it’s from a birthday party Maddie went to.”
She managed a smile, but shook her head. With a sigh, he tossed the favor bag aside and slumped into the chair next to hers.
“So, hey, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Maddie’s been talking about a princess game? What is that?”
“It’s a website I found. Games for kids.”
“Oh.”
Lia watched the flush crawl slowly up his neck and bit back a smile.
He was nervous.
The thought charmed her down to her toes.
He cleared his throat. “Lia, I really enjoyed hanging out with you the other day. Breakfast, then looking at the furniture book. You’re smart. You’re awesome. You’re…you’re beautiful.” He said it quickly, like he was afraid he’d chicken out if he waited.
Speechless, Lia could only stare at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a helpless shrug. “I’m seriously out of practice at this. The truth is, I like you, Lia. I really like you but when Emmy wanted you instead of me, I—well—I—”
“Oh,” Lia said, understanding completely. “Gabriel. You have to know that didn’t mean anything. I’m novel to her, that’s all.”
He shook his head. “No, she really likes you, Lia. That should make me relieved. Happy, even. And it does. It’s dumb but it…well, it hurt. I’ve been doing this single parent stuff for a while now—since she was four months old,” he admitted, turning to watch Emmy play with her little kitchen set in the corner of the living room. “Most of the time, I think I have it all under control, I got it all handled, and then, there are days when I swear I don’t know a damn thing.”
“I completely understand.” Lia saw the tension in Gabriel’s body, the flush on his skin and figured he’d rather be outside hauling more trash than reveal this part of himself. She reached her hand across the table, gave his a squeeze.
He went completely still.
“Gabriel, you’ve been daddy and mommy to these girls for a long time,” she murmured. “It makes me wonder who takes care of you?”
He stared at the hand gripping his with a frown, so Lia drew back. She’d moved no more than an inch when he shook his head, snagged that hand again. When he lifted his eyes to hers, Lia leaned in, touched her lips to his.
*
Gabe wasn’t entirely sure how it happened. One minute, they were talking and the next, they were kissing and he really hoped he wasn’t dreaming this.
Her lips were exactly as he’d imagined.
Soft.
Hot.
Just like the rest of her. He took the kiss deeper and tasted chocolate—had she snuck a piece from that party bag? He smiled against her lips and melted into her like metal under a welder’s torch. Lia, he thought. This was Lia, who was everything that was soft and warm and smelled like lilacs. Lia, who took such pleasure in helping everyone she met. He wanted her, breathed her, dreamed of her and he knew this was wrong, wrong to do this with anybody but Janey, but God help him, how could it be wrong to feel what he was feeling?
He’d wanted solace, comfort, and maybe, to feel reassured that his last child still loved him. But now, kissing Lia, he thought maybe, just maybe, he’d needed reassurance that he was still alive. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, all he could think about was more. More of her heat, more of her hands in his hair, more of her mouth over every inch of his body, more of his heart galloping and
his stomach flipping. More lips, more tongue, God, more tongue. More gasps, more moans, more sighs.
All.
She tugged on his hair, pulling him closer and he went, helpless to resist her, kissing her like she was the only thing that could possibly keep him steady in a world that pitched and spun. When they finally broke apart, ending right where they’d started…staring into each other’s eyes, clutching each other’s hands, pulses pounding like drum beats, he couldn’t remember a single reason why he’d ever believed kissing Amelia Blake was wrong.
“Kiss me, Ee-ah.” Emmy pounced on Lia, who scooped her up and planted a loud “Mwah” on her cheek.
He couldn’t find the words. He’d kissed Lia. He’d kissed her. He hadn’t kissed anybody but Janey since college. He waited for the one-two punch from guilt and grief, braced for the knock-out from the bitter fury that always, always, followed.
It didn’t come.
He studied Lia. Her face was flushed and her hands shook a little and her lips were just a little bit swollen. The emotion that flooded him then wasn’t guilt, grief, or anger.
It was…pride. Pure testosterone-driven pride.
Her eyes met his and he grinned.
He’d just opened his mouth when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen and spelled out a curse.
“Hello?”
Lia detected a note of worry in his voice but when his entire body went tense, she knew something was wrong.
“Kimberly? What’s wrong? Is she okay? Yeah. Um. Sure. I’ll pick her up. She was fine this morning. What? She has what?” he repeated, his voice a whole octave higher. “She has cramps. Oh, God.” Gabe’s face went gray as he ended the call.
“I have to go. I have to get Kimberly. She has…”
“I’ll stay with Emmy. Go.”
Startled, he looked at his youngest daughter and then back at her as if he forgot where he was and what he was doing. Finally, he nodded, suddenly unable to talk. “You—um—God.”
And he took off at a dead run, not even bothering to shut the door behind him.
*
He reached the school in less than fifteen minutes, his heart beating like a trapped animal behind his ribcage, and found Kimberly curled into a ball in the nurse’s office. Her face was pale and she kept clutching her stomach.
