Page 30 of Because of Blake
“What’s the other part?” I ask shyly.
He takes a sip of his Dr. Pepper, swallowing it with a delicious smirk on his lips. “So I could get to know you better.” The sincerity in his deep tone makes me wish I’d taken a dip in the pool earlier.
“Well, from the looks of things, Dylan and Sydney won’t be ready to leave any time soon, so we’ve got plenty of time. But haven’t we pretty much covered what we need to know about each other? In terms of being neighbors, anyway.”
Blake shifts in his chair, leaning on his side and propping his head up with his arm. “Well, maybe we should expand past the terms of being neighbors then. Take our relationship to the next level.”
My heart leaps into my throat. Relationship? What a strong word to use after I told him I don’t date. Maybe he’s going to try again? I should show him I’m open to it. Excitement bubbles in me and I take a big drink of my soda. As I swallow, I shift my body so I’m lying on my side, facing Blake, matching his position. I flutter my eyelashes and say in a sultry voice, “And how do we do that?”
A crease forms between his brows. “Well, you said you moved here from Aurora. How long were you there?”
“Oh.” The excitement dissolves, and I sigh. Not the question I was expecting. “Almost twelve years. After college, Charlie–” The mentioning of his name chokes me up, and emptiness fills my chest as I lower my eyes to the ground.
“Maggie? Are you okay?” I turn to see Blake sitting up in a crunch and looking at me intently. His eyes tell me he’s concerned.
I offer him a smile, but it’s forced. I don’t want his pity. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry, just a little carbonated bubble.”Oh, smooth, Maggie. Talk about belching. Okay, change the subject.“And you? You said you were born in Chicago. Do you ever think about going back?”
“No. I’m in Colorado for good.”
“Well, I’m glad you are.” I wink, my heart racing, but slowing when all Blake does is smile and turn onto his back again. Ugh, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m obviously no good at flirting.
“Even though I’m not doing what I wanted to with my life, I still love it here. And I have a good job, so that helps. Speaking of,” Blake says, turning to his side to face me. “Are you back at work?”
I sigh in sad acceptance of the fact Blake isn’t going to ask me out. “I go back on Monday after the kids leave for camp.”
“So they are going?”
“Yes. They’ll be gone for eight weeks.” A small bubble of panic rises, but I wash it down with more Dr. Pepper.
“Are you worried about them?”
I look at Blake in wonderment, appreciating how well he reads me. “I am, but only because I always worry about them. I know they’ll be fine. Plus, it’ll be good for me to have some time to myself, although it’ll be a little lonely.”
“You know, Maggie, if you need some company, I’m right down the street.” I’m starting to like the gravel in Blake’s voice when he says my name.
Did he just…This is it, Maggie. This is your shot.Accept his offer to keep you company so he knows you’re open to other things. “Blake, that sounds–”
“MOM! Sydney dunked me under and wouldn’t let me go!” Dylan comes trotting around the deck, crying.
“Sydney!” I yell. She’s hanging onto the edge of the pool a few feet beyond the end of our chairs. “What did I tell you about playing so rough?”
“Sorry, Mom. I thought Dylan could handle it now. He’s ten years old, you know.”
I wrap Dylan’s towel around him and settle him onto my lap. I mouth the word “sorry” to Blake, who waves me off like it’s no big deal. After Dylan calms down, he asks to leave. I glance at Blake, and I swear there’s disappointment on his face, but he hides it with a warm smile.
“Thank you for the soda” I say, hiking our pool bag onto my shoulder. “Sorry to rush off in the middle of our conversation.”
“It was my pleasure,” Blake replies, sliding his aviators down his nose so his brown eyes are visible. They glint as the sun hits them just right. “We can continue our conversation another time.”
My stomach does a somersault. Maybe I haven’t missed my chance after all.
Chapter eleven
June3rdfinally arrives, and I bawl like a baby watching the camp bus fade into the horizon. I know my kids will be fine. I know they’re safe, but it’s that damn motherhood thing forcing me to cry every time I think about them growing up. They’ve gone to camp for years, with the exception of the year Charlie died, but they’ve never done the eight-week program. I’m afraid they’ll look like different kids when they get home.
I scoot into work after having to fix my makeup twice. Someone should bottle tears to use as makeup remover, I swear.
As I pass Abbey’s cubicle, I glimpse her from the corner of my eye. I hesitate a split second and consider finally apologizing for slapping her. I know she was upset that day, and it was overtly unprofessional of me, not to mention just plain mean, but what she said was beyond rude. I’m giving myself a pass.