Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BILLIE
The following day, my previously bad mood has not improved at all.
How difficult can it be for a landlord to fix broken cupboard doors that won’t shut?
Three times I called him last night about ongoing issues, every one of my attempts being sent straight to voicemail.
In reality, I can deal with a couple of broken shelves and hinges.
It’s the hot water that’s giving me the biggest headache.
Blake needs daily baths at the moment, and I need to wash dishes.
With Blake under one arm, I snatch up my cell and try once more to make contact.
“Hi. This is Billie Quinn at number twenty-five.” I work to keep my voice professional when, in fact, I would like to shove my landlord’s head in a blender. “I just moved in, like, a week ago, and the issues with the apartment continue to stack up. As you know, I have a newborn and—”
The sound of knocking cuts me short.
“Hang on,” I continue. “That could be you at my door right now.”
Hitting End on the call, I head straight for the front door, convinced that it can only be my landlord since no one else can enter the building without being buzzed up or possessing a key or the code.
“Hey, Bill. Your neighbor was leaving and let me into the building.”
Crouching to inspect the seal around the doorjamb, Emmett greets me with a smile that only grows wider when he takes in my daughter, dressed in a unicorn onesie. When he turns his attention back to the door, dissatisfaction crosses his face, and then he rises to his full height in front of me.
As I stand to one side and he enters, I’m acutely aware of my lack of greeting. But when a guy looks the way Emmett does this morning, I think I speak on behalf of most women when I say …
Hot freaking damn.
In black dress pants that stop just above stylish gray sneakers, he finishes off a mouthwatering look with a casual dark blue button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing my favorite forearms.
Hands in his pockets, he does a three-sixty in the center of my living room, inspecting the apartment in detail.
“Can I help you?” I finally say, a small chuckle rising up my throat.
Even though I was hoping to find my landlord when I opened the door, I’m way more delighted to see Emmett. After last night’s awkward exchange with Maria and Mom almost catching us, we haven’t breathed another word to each other.
“Has your landlord called you back?” Emmett’s eyes finally find mine, a softness in them that doesn’t reflect our conversation.
I shake my head, confused. “No. But how do you know I tried to make contact?”
He moves a fraction closer, hands still in his pockets, like they frequently are when he’s near me. “I overheard you leaving a voicemail for him last night, right before I left to head home.” Pulling out his cell, he hands it over to me. “Let me take Blake while you key in your landlord’s number.”
I shake my head. “It’s pointless, trying to contact him. I said the same to my dad last night. He isn’t even picking up when I call.”
Emmett beckons his fingers at Blake, asking me to pass her over. “You just concentrate on giving me his details, and let me worry about getting ahold of your landlord.”
I look down at my daughter and then back at Emmett. “Are you sure you can handle her?” I have zero concerns about him holding Blake, especially after the way he was with her before we went to the park that day. Still, a familiar sense of guilt over everything he’s doing for us compels me to ask.
He doesn’t even hesitate. “I held my captain’s baby girl last Christmas, so I know the drill—support their head, but most importantly …
” He trails off and reaches out, taking Blake from my arms before confidently cradling her in his.
A big grin pulls at his full lips, and Blake instantly settles into his broad chest. “Most importantly, it’s all about smiles and giggles.
” His face fills with warmth. “Isn’t that right, baby girl? ”
I should be typing my landlord’s number into Emmett’s phone, which I’ve called so many times that I now have it memorized. Instead, I’m gaping at the man standing before me, almost as hard as my daughter is.
Adjusting the fluffy hood over Blake’s head, Emmett tips his chin at his cell. “All done?”
“Yeah,” is all I manage as I enter the final digit, handing the phone back to Emmett.
I hold my arms out, ready to take Blake back.
He shakes his head and begins pacing the apartment, my daughter’s eyelids drooping closed when he puts the phone to his ear.
It must be ten seconds before Emmett speaks in a voice I’ve never heard before, a clipped edge to a professional tone.
“My name is Emmett Richards, and I’m a close friend of your new tenant, Billie Quinn.
” He wraps his arm tighter around Blake, taking a couple of steps into my kitchen and heading straight for one of the broken cupboards.
“As I’m sure you are aware, Billie has tried, on numerous occasions, to bring a number of issues with her apartment to your attention.
” He clears his throat, warm gaze landing on Blake.
“Tell me, do you make a habit of ignoring all your tenants’ phone calls, or is it just the ones where some effort is required on your part?
For example, if Billie were to pull all rental payments until such time that you address the state of disrepair in her property, I’m willing to bet that we would hear from you in a more than timely fashion. ”
I look on, biting down on my bottom lip.
“I’m not sure if you’re a fan of hockey or even care who I am, but let me make one thing clear: Billie Quinn and her newborn baby are your top priority, as is the hot water issue that’s currently preventing her from bathing Blake and cleaning dishes and baby equipment.
” Emmett’s eyes flick to mine as he confirms, “Now, it just so happens that you’re in luck with the kitchen cabinets since I’m currently visiting and have a toolbox in the trunk of my car.
But the flooring by her couch needs immediate attention—by tomorrow at the very latest.”
Speaking of the floor, I fully melt into it when Emmett switches the call to speaker so Blake can wrap her tiny palm around his pointer finger, something I thought she only loved to do with me.
“To clarify,” he begins, rounding up the message, “I don’t need you to call back on this number to make arrangements.
I need you to simply start paying attention to two very important people in my life.
” His eyes find mine again, and I swallow thickly.
“The kind of people who would make me take serious action really fast if anyone screwed them over.” He leaves his sentence there, satisfied that its meaning cannot be misinterpreted.
“Billie looks forward to hearing from you in the very near future.”
“My landlord’s stopping by tomorrow night when he gets back into town,” I confirm to Emmett, setting my phone down on the counter while I watch him tighten the final hinge on a kitchen cupboard.
Blake went down for a nap a half hour ago, and all I’ve done in that time is drink coffee and observe the show playing out in front of me.
He finishes up and checks the alignment.
I felt sure Emmett would look more pleased at the outcome. It took less than ten minutes for me to receive a call I’d been waiting on for several days.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, noticing the pinch between his brows as he rests his forearms on the opposite end of the small island where I’m sitting.
“It just pisses me off,” he replies, deeper lines creasing into his forehead. “How long was he going to leave you and Blake in this mess?”
I drop my eyes to the butcher’s block countertop. “It’s pointless, thinking about that; the important thing is that he’s going to make the repairs.”
When I cast my eyes up, Emmett’s no longer standing in front of me, but right by my side, his familiar cologne causing my thighs to pinch.
A growl emanates from his chest, and he reaches up, tugging at a few strands of his hair. “He knew what he was doing and was testing the limits of how much he could get away with. Assholes like that piss me off. I hate even more that he did it to a woman and her newborn.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Emmett gets there first.
“What about tonight? How will you bathe Blake?”
My eyes settle on the empty pan sitting on top of my stove.
“No. Absolutely fucking not,” he practically spits. “You can’t stay here tonight if that’s what you’re using to heat water.”
I shrug, having done that exact thing for several nights on repeat. “It’s fine. It doesn’t take me all that long to heat the water to the correct temperature for Blake.”
Like he forgets himself completely, Emmett’s hand lands on the arm of my barstool, turning me to face him straight on. “No, Billie. I can’t leave you tonight, knowing that’s how you plan to spend your evening.”
I gaze around at the apartment. “Well, if you have any other bright ideas, then let’s hear them. I’m all ears.”
There’s a hint of challenge in Emmett’s eyes. “You could stay over at my place. I have a huge tub and several spare bedrooms.”
My eyes grow wider. “Are you being serious?”
He returns my earlier shrug. “Deadly. You can’t stay here until your landlord fixes the fundamentals.”
“Emmett,” I blow out, hands twisting nervously in my lap.
“Don’t you think that’s a little dangerous?
What if someone sees me entering your apartment?
” I pause, taking a second to choose my next words carefully.
“I mean, we both know that there’s nothing going on between us, but it could look a little weird to other people. ”
Silence descends, Emmett’s hand gripping the arm on my stool even tighter.
“No one will see us, Billie.”
“How can you be so sure?” I counter.
He pushes a quick hand through his hair, eyes drifting away from mine before landing back on me.
Whenever we make eye contact, I feel like I’m learning to breathe for the very first time.
“I have a private elevator directly into my penthouse.”
I fight the urge to tease him about being a fancy bastard, choosing to keep the conversation on point.
“The safer option would be to drop me at my parents’ place.”
Emmett nods a couple of times, acknowledging that I’m right, although I can see he’s not paying much thought to the suggestion. We both want to spend time together, even if we aren’t admitting it out loud.
“If that’s where you’d prefer to stay, then we can gather Blake’s bassinet and diaper bag, and I’ll give you a ride. No worries.”
More silence. More tension. Burning apprehension over how this is going to play out.
Emmett speaks first, his words soft and hushed, reflecting the underlying risk I know he’s taking by simply showing up here.
“Scott and Freya have no idea that I’m with you right now.
I came here straight from morning skate.
” A grimace pulls at his chiseled features.
“If I drive you to their place, then they may ask questions as to why you didn’t just call Freya to pick you up. ”
I chew on my bottom lip. “If they did, I would tell them the truth about us.”
Emmett’s knuckles turn white. “And what exactly is the truth, Billie?”
I could answer his question silently with my lips. But it’s my words that eventually win out, common sense prevailing. “That we’re friends and you are stepping up to help out in the wake of Dad’s accident.”
When Emmett edges closer, a simple swipe of his tongue could reach my bottom lip. His eyes drop to my mouth, revealing that he’s having the exact same thought.
“The last time we were alone in this apartment, I made it clear that I would always be honest, especially when it came to you and Blake.”
He watches the column of my throat work as I swallow down his words.
“I’m not here today, or any other day, just because Scott is out of action and your mom needs to work. I’m here because I want to be and because I like spending time with you and Blake.”
The hand not gripping my stool reaches up to my face, but at the final second, Emmett slides it into his pocket, the slightest show of unease entering his body language.
“I want to spend more time with you both.”
I clear my throat, ready to reveal that I feel the same way.
“Is that what you want?” he rushes out, anxiety laced in his voice.
My gaze tracks to the bedroom, Blake’s bassinet just visible, her soft snores echoing through the monitor next to me. Truthfully, I have zero idea what will happen if I say yes and we head back to his place. All I know is, other than my baby girl, he’s the person that I want to be around the most.
And despite our precarious situation and complicated lives, somehow, everything feels simpler, easier, when I’m in his company.
I wrap a palm around the tense fist he’s formed on my stool, fingers relaxing in response to mine. “Yes. Spending more time with you is what I want. Take us to your place.”