Page 4 of Because of Blake
I shake my head to break the spell. “Yeah, I’m sure it was only beginner’s luck.”
“You say you just moved in? Welcome to the neighborhood. My name is Blake Averson. I live in the corner house in the cul-de-sac.” He hikes his thumb over his shoulder, then pats his dog on the head. “This here is Oscar.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Margaret, er, Maggie Hansen.”
He replaces the ball cap, casting a shadow over his eyes again, but not before I catch him eyeballing me from my head to my wiggling toes. I notice his gaze lingers a moment on my left hand, sans wedding ring. “Good to have you here, Maggie. You and your, uh, kids? Husband?”
A lump forms in my throat at the word husband. “Kids,” I say, all too quickly.
One corner of his mouth quirks up. Not fully up-turned, but enough to hint he’s pleased with my answer.
I clear my throat. “And what about you? Wife and kids?” My heart picks up speed a bit as I anticipate his answer. Why do I care?
“Nope. Oscar and I are living the bachelor life.”
I chuckle, brushing a piece of stray hair behind my ear and watching Blake’s eyes follow my movement.
“Well, if you need anything, feel free to knock on my door. I’m no contractor, but I’ve been known to do a household repair every now and then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Avers–”
“Blake, please.”
“Blake. You’re very kind.” We stare at each other for a moment, my mouth curving awkwardly before I pull myself out of my stupor. “Well, I need to get home before my kids report me as a missing person.” My nervous laugh sounds so stupid.
“I’m sure I’ll see you around, Maggie.” There’s a gruffness in his tone as he says my name, almost like gravel, and it sends an exhilarating chill up my spine. He tips his hat, and I give a polite smile as I turn to walk away, fighting the urge to look over my shoulder to see if he’s watching me.
Thank God Michelle wasn’t here. She would’ve certainly cracked some lewd innuendo and I’d be spending this entire walk explaining to her why she’s insane.
Mr. Averson… I mean, Blake is much too young for me. By five years, at least. And even if there was the slightest chance he was interested in me, I’m not interested in him. Am I?
I shake my head. No, of course not. I’m holding strong to my “not on the market” comment from earlier. I don’t have the time, energy, or desire to dive back into the dating pool.
But that’s not really true, either.
I’m only working part-time, so I actually have the time, and from what I’ve seen of the apps, it doesn’t take much work to find a date. The only question is if I have the desire, and I wouldn’t know what that felt like if it bit me on the ass.
While Blake is certainly nice to look at, that’sallhe’ll be. A hot neighbor I can ogle.
Chapter two
MyhandcrampsandI drop my pen onto my desk. I’m writing too fast. As much as this paperwork needs to get done, there’s no rush. I glance at the clock.
Shit, it’s almost noon? Okay, maybe a little bit of a rush.
The affidavits were piled high when I arrived at my desk this morning. Apparently, the person appointed to cover for me, didn’t. I’ve been working my butt off playing catch up, and although I’ve made a good dent, I still have a full day’s worth of paperwork sitting in front of me. Being a part-time paralegal might be harder than I thought.
This one’s almost done. I’ll finish it and then take lunch.
As I put the final touches on my hurried, yet precise notes, my stomach rumbles. Finished in the nick of time. Clicking the button on my mouse, the icon for “OUT” turns gray. I sling my purse over my shoulder, shut down my computer, and exit my cubicle just as Abbey turns the corner from the mailroom.
Her ruby red lips purse and her penciled-in eyebrows furrow as she eyes my bag at my hip. “Where are you rushing off to?”
“Hi, Abbey,” I say as pleasantly as I can. “It’s lunchtime. My stomach’s begging me to eat something. I’ve been working so hard today, I haven’t even taken a break, so I’m ready for one.”
“I didn’t ask for your life story.” She raises her perfectly manicured hand.
“Okay,” I draw the word out.