Page 11 of Holiday Promise

Blake crouched down beside his son with a laugh. “I don’t think I’d be very good at that sort of thing. But I’ve seen the sort of stuff Melody can make.” He glanced at her, finding her staring at him.

Max turned his focus on her as well. “Really?”

In that moment, Melody seemed to break out of her trance. She moved to Max’s other side and offered him a grin. “I don’t think I’mthatgood, bud. But I’m sure we could come up with something fun. We’ll just need to make a plan. Do you think you could draw up a few ideas?”

Max nodded emphatically. He threw his arms around Melody, then peered up at her. “You’re so cool.”

“Yes, she is,” Blake murmured as he stood. His eyes locked with hers when Max pulled away and reached for her hand. Melody was a great deal more than he could have ever expected, and he was lucky she’d walked into their lives.

SEVEN

Snow came down hard by the time they’d returned home. Despite how cold it was, Melody was overheated. In the course of the last couple of hours, she’d started questioning herself completely.

Her crush had exploded into something more. The worst part was that she realized that she wanted nothing more than to investigate what a future could look like with Blake.

But he was her boss!

As many times as she’d said this exact thing in her head, she’d brushed it off just as many. She wasn’t blind. Blake was sending all sorts of signals in her direction. The way he looked at her. Their quiet conversations.

After she’d nearly fallen flat on her face, they continued and they grew more blatant by the minute.

“I’m going to tuck Max into bed,” Blake murmured, too closely to her ear. The house was quiet when they’d returned. Ms. Anthony had already gone home. They’d stayed out a little later than they normally would’ve—something she couldn’t complain about.

Max was asleep on his shoulder, having slipped into slumber on the way back. He’d been so excited when the snow had startedfalling, he’d most assuredly be thrilled with the amount that would cover the ground in the morning.

Melody nodded, briefly brushing the hair from Max’s face. She didn’t trust her voice, not now. She told herself it was because she didn’t want to wake the boy, but in truth, she didn’t think she’d sound like herself.

It was late and she probably should head off to bed herself. Doing so would save her from any awkward encounters with Blake. It was strange that she’d been essentially living under the same roof as the man for a year and while she felt like she knew him better than most, there were parts of him that she didn’t know at all—yet she found herself wishing she did.

The heat returned to her face, betraying her thoughts. Yes, it would be best to scurry off to bed so that she didn’t have to interact with Blake at all.

She peeled off her coat and hung it on a hook in the foyer. But when she turned around, she nearly collided with the man she knew she should be avoiding. Melody forced a soft laugh. “Sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was?—”

“Would you like some tea?”

“Tea?” she stammered.

He gestured toward the kitchen. “I know we have some around here somewhere. Ms. Anthony keeps it on hand.”

She blinked several times. If she accepted his request, she would definitely end up saying something stupid. But if she turned him down, she got the feeling she’d miss out on a great deal more than she bargained for. Her heart fluttered and deep down, she knew that she’d already made her decision a long time ago. “Sure, I’d like some tea.”

His brooding stare softened somewhat. If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought he might actually be fighting a smile. Blake led the way to the kitchen. They turned on the pendantlights over the island, but nothing else which made the space feel more intimate.

Blake filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stove. He opened a couple of cabinets but didn’t have any luck tracking down the tea.

She moved around the island to help, but when they reached for the same cabinet, his hand brushed hers and all focus left her body. Sparks of warning—or perhaps they were excitement—jolted between them. Melody yanked her hand away and dropped her eyes to the floor, mumbling, “Sorry.”

He didn’t open the cabinet right away like she expected. Instead, he hooked a finger beneath her chin, lifting it.

Melody exhaled softly. She should pull away—put distance between them. But the fire in her belly argued against it. The only sound she could hear was that of her beating heart. She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to say what had been on her mind all evening—that they needed to remain professional.

But he didn’t.

Blake dropped his hand. His hard stare wasn’t one of judgement or disappointment like she’d thought it might be. Rather, it was searching for something. Consent, perhaps?

She swallowed hard, then turned quickly and reached for the cabinet. “Here it is,” she murmured softly. “You have peppermint or lavender.” Without waiting for his request, she grabbed two packages of the peppermint and held them out to him.

His fingers brushed against hers and chills raced down her spine. He didn’t move. His eyes remained locked on her, pinning her to her place. “I need to say something before I lose my nerve,” he said huskily. “And I hope you’ll forgive my candor, but it must be said.”