Chapter 6
Six
Blayne
I should’ve known better than to show up at the Mason house on a Sunday. Should’ve made some excuse about work or told Mel I was busy. But here I am, sitting at their kitchen table like I have every Sunday for the past five years, pretending I’m not hyperaware of every move Reggie makes.
She’s helping her mother set the table, and I keep catching myself watching the way she moves around the kitchen like she never left. Natural and easy, reaching for plates in cabinets she could find blindfolded, stepping around her father like she never left.
She’s wearing a blue dress that hits just above her knees, and every time she reaches up to get something from a high shelf, the fabric pulls tight across her round ass in a way that makes my dick twitch.
Her hair’s pulled back in a loose ponytail, but pieces keep escaping to frame her face, and I have to grip my glass to keep from reaching out to tuck them behind her ear.
When she bends over to check something in the oven, I get a glimpse of the curve of her breast through the V-neck of her dress, and I have to look away before my cock goes from half-mast to raging boner.
“Blayne, you want more iced tea, son?” Mel asks.
“I’m good, thanks,” I reply. Hard to drink when your mouth feels dry and your blood has mostly migrated south.
The kids are scattered around the living room. Jaylen, on the couch with his phone, Nia curled up in the corner chair with a book, and Annalise playing with some toy horses on the coffee table. Normal family chaos, the kind I’ve watched from the outside for years.
But this feels different.
“So how did the school enrollment go?” Sarah asks her daughter as she sets a massive pot roast on the table.
“Better than I expected,” Reggie answers, looking up from the salad she’s making. “I got all three of them registered on Friday. Jaylen starts at Green Fields High, Nia’s in eighth grade at the middle school, and Annalise is all set for first grade at the elementary.”
“Good thinking, getting it done early,” Mel says. “Some parents wait until the last minute and then wonder why there’s no space in the classes they want.”
“I learned that lesson in San Francisco,” Reggie says with a laugh. “You snooze, you lose when it comes to school stuff.”
I watch the way her face lights up when she talks about her kids, the obvious pride in her voice.
“How are they feeling about it?” Sarah asks softly.
“Jaylen’s pretending he doesn’t care, but I caught him looking up the football team roster online,” Reggie responds just as low, sitting down across from me. “Nia’s nervous about the smaller class sizes, but I think she’ll like the individual attention once she gets used to it.”
When she sits down, I catch a whiff of her perfume. It’s something light and floral that makes me think of summer nights and soft skin. She’s close enough that I can drown in her brown eyes, close enough to notice the beauty mark at the base of her throat. Fuck me…
“And Annalise?” I ask, because someone needs to keep this conversation going before I do something stupid like reach across the table and touch her.
“She’s over the moon,” Reggie beams. Her eyes light up, and the dimple in her left cheek pops out.
“She’s been talking about making new friends and learning to read chapter books.
Oh, and she’s very excited about the father-daughter dance in October.
But that’s a bridge we’ll cross when we get there… ”
Her smile falters when she says that, and I catch the way her shoulders tense.
“What are you talking about, Mama?” Annalise asks, appearing at the table like she has supernatural hearing.
“The special dance at your school where the first and second-grade girls get dressed up and dance with their daddies.”
Annalise’s face falls. “Oh. I don’t think I want to go to that anymore.”
Shit.
“Maybe Grandpa could take you, sweetie,” Reggie says carefully.
“I’d be honored,” Mel replies immediately, garnering a few laughs.
But Annalise is looking around the table with that expression kids get when they’re trying to work up the courage to ask for something that’s important to them. Her eyes land on me, and I think I have a feeling where this is going…
“What about Blayne?” she finally asks in a small voice that fucking breaks my heart.
Everyone at the table goes quiet. Sarah’s holding a serving spoon halfway to her plate. Mel’s staring at his drink like it might have answers. Reggie looks like she wants to disappear through the floor.
“What about me?” I ask softly, even though I know exactly what she’s getting at.
“Could you take me to the dance? Please…”
Fuck. This is not happening.
“Annalise,” Reggie says quickly, “Blayne’s not… we can’t just ask him to…”
“Why not?” Annalise interrupts. “He’s our friend. And he’s tall, so I could wear really high heels and still be shorter than him.”
“That’s not all it takes, baby.”
“What does it take?”
Reggie looks around the table, and I can see her trying to figure out how to explain things without hurting her daughter’s feelings. There’s something vulnerable in her expression, something that makes my chest tight.
“The father-daughter dance is for daddies and their daughters,” Reggie explains gently. “Baby, Blayne isn’t your daddy.”
“But I don’t have a daddy,” Annalise says matter-of-factly. “Not anymore. And Grandpa’s really old.”
“I’m not that old,” Mel protests.
“You are. You have gray hair and everything.”
“So does Blayne.”
I reach up and touch my hair automatically. “I don’t have gray hair.”
“You have some,” Annalise says, studying me seriously. “But not as much as Grandpa. And you’re not as old, right?”
This conversation is going to hell fast.
“Annalise,” Reggie says, her voice getting that warning tone again, “we are not asking Blayne to take you to a dance.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because…,” she stutters.
“Do you want to?” Annalise asks me directly.
I look at this little girl with her hopeful expression and her pigtails coming loose, then I look at Reggie. Really look at her.
She’s chewing on her plump bottom lip, the one I’ve been trying not to think about, and her hands are clenched in her lap.
She’s worried about breaking her little girl’s heart, about putting me in an uncomfortable position, about how to handle a situation she’s probably been dreading since she first heard about it.
But there’s something else in her expression. Hope. Something that makes me want to be the kind of man who’ll show up for anything her and her kids need. Anything they want. Fuck. I’m fucking screwed.
“If it’s okay with your mom,” I hear myself saying before even thinking it through, “then yeah, I’d love to take you.”
Annalise squeals and claps her hands. “Really?”
Her happiness is contagious. “Really.”
The relief that floods Reggie’s face is worth whatever awkwardness this is going to cause. Her body relaxes, her shoulders dropping, and she gives me a soft, grateful smile that makes me feel like I could move mountains.
“Blayne, you don’t have to…” she starts.
“I know I don’t have to.”
“It’s… it’s a lot to ask.”
“You didn’t ask. She did.”
“Still…”
“It’s just a dance, Reggie. Not a big deal.”
Except it is a big deal. Huge. Because it means stepping into a role, I’ve never played before.
“When is it?” I ask.
“October fifteenth,” she says. “It’s formal, so you’ll need a suit.”
A suit. Christ. When’s the last time I wore a suit?
“I’ll need to get measured for one,” I say.
“Reggie can do that,” Sarah says with a smile that’s a little too innocent. “She’s got all the equipment in her sewing room.”
I look at Reggie, and she has a deer-caught-in-headlights expression. Her gorgeous brown eyes wide, and her tongue darting out to wet her full lips.
“I mean, if you want,” she says, and her voice sounds a little breathless. “I do alterations. It would be easier than going to the city.”
I let my eyes travel over her beautiful face, taking in all I can, and fighting to keep my gaze above her chin. “That’d be great.” My words come out rough. Then, I see Reggie’s eyes go down to my mouth before she looks away quickly.
What am I doing? Getting measured for a suit by the woman who’s making my dick hard with just a smile? The woman whose sad eyes makes me want to do insane things?
I’m afraid none of this will end well. But Annalise is already planning our dance moves, and Reggie’s looking at me like I’m some kind of hero, and she’s so unconsciously sexy, she makes my hands itch to pull her into my arms. And I know I’m too far gone to back out.
“This is going to be the best dance ever,” Annalise announces.
“Yes, sweetheart,” I reply, trying to ignore my doubts.
A father-daughter dance. With Reggie’s daughter. And before that, I have to let her mom, my forever dream girl, put her hands all over me to take my measures. What could possibly go wrong?..