Hometown Valentine
Lissa Manley
Finding Her FamilyLily Rogers is ready to follow her dreams. Now all she needs is funds. Taking a job as baby Peyton's temporary nanny seems like an easy way to earn cash for her plane ticket to LA. But there's nothing easy about how Lily feels for Peyton's uncle, coffee shop owner Blake Stonely. As Valentine's Day approaches, Lily's head fills with romantic notions of the handsome new daddy. She's falling for a family that isn't hers, and dreaming of a life with the blue-eyed barista and his adorable niece. Will Lily leave Blake and Peyton behind…or make a new future–and family–with them by her side?Moonlight Cove: A beachside town where love and faith blossomLily Rogers is ready to follow her dreams. Now all she needs is funds. Taking a job as baby Peyton's temporary nanny seems like an easy way to earn cash for her plane ticket to LA. But there's nothing easy about how Lily feels for Peyton's uncle, coffee shop owner Blake Stonely. As Valentine's Day approaches, Lily's head fills with romantic notions of the handsome new daddy. She's falling for a family that isn't hers, and dreaming of a life with the blue-eyed barista and his adorable niece. Will Lily leave Blake and Peyton behind…or make a new future–and family–with them by her side?Moonlight Cove: A beachside town where love and faith blossom
Finding Her Family
Lily Rogers is ready to follow her dreams. Now all she needs is funds. Taking a job as baby Peyton’s temporary nanny seems like an easy way to earn cash for her plane ticket to LA. But there’s nothing easy about how Lily feels for Peyton’s uncle, coffee shop owner Blake Stonely. As Valentine’s Day approaches, Lily’s head fills with romantic notions of the handsome new daddy. She’s falling for a family that isn’t hers, and dreaming of a life with the blue-eyed barista and his adorable niece. Will Lily leave Blake and Peyton behind…or make a new future—and family—with them by her side?
Moonlight Cove: A beachside town where love and faith blossom
“I need to focus on my career goals, not falling in love.”
Made perfect sense, though for some reason Lily’s statement had disappointment poking at him. Blake shook the emotion off. “I hear you there,” he replied. “Who has time for romantic relationships?” Or the guts.
“Not me.”
“Not me, either. I have more than I can handle with the store and Peyton.”
“So you aren’t interested in dating either?” she asked in what seemed like a very well-modulated voice.
“No,” he said emphatically. “I don’t have time.” Which was part of his reasoning. The other part was too personal to share.
“Right? Me neither.” She hesitated, her brow creasing. “We’re actually a lot alike, you know.”
“Hmm. You know, you’re right.”
“Maybe that’s why we get along so well.”
“That has to be it,” he said. “We’re on the same page.”
“Right.” She nodded. “Same page is good. Really good.”
“Actually, it’s excellent. We get each other.”
“Yes, we do,” she said, her gaze meeting his. It held. Something passed between them; what, exactly, he couldn’t say, just something odd yet exciting.
LISSA MANLEY decided she wanted to be a published author at twelve. After she read her first romance as a teenager she decided romance was her favorite genre, although she still enjoys a good medical thriller now and then. Lissa lives in Portland, Oregon, with her husband, a grown daughter and college-aged son, and two bossy poodles. When she’s not reading, she enjoys crafting, bargain hunting, cooking and decorating.
Hometown Valentine
Lissa Manley
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving
let your requests be made known to God.
—Philippians 4:6
This book is dedicated to
my bestie and sunset sweats comrade.
Thanks for always being there for me. Tally ho!
Contents
Cover (#u448a1991-f878-568d-8d4d-56aab2a12a51)
Back Cover Text (#u2f7d8064-e2fc-5cd6-a38a-99c16098ae10)
Introduction (#ue2068e19-4163-56b3-b310-88f58165b83a)
About the Author (#u104cfac9-29eb-5afb-8722-9e959958343c)
Title Page (#u44cfb071-b1c0-51d7-96ba-7acf34df557d)
Bible Verse (#uef38aa45-bd52-5cc7-a1ad-2045442b89d7)
Dedication (#ufd1bc44c-59b6-54a5-a942-c07cf0bb199d)
Chapter One (#ulink_6d0468cd-bdcf-5657-ae9b-b8eeb05b302b)
Chapter Two (#ulink_1383af77-84e9-53c9-9d69-f23105a18841)
Chapter Three (#ulink_19a3ca2b-b665-53ca-be0c-c750461115fe)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_759f6465-96e4-558c-8d6b-2ff2edcb24e5)
Snapping her umbrella closed, Lily Rogers hurriedly stepped from the chilly late January downpour into The Coffee Cabana. The entry buzzer sounded above her head.
As the earthy smell of coffee hit her, she came to an abrupt stop just inside the door and darted her gaze around. The place was dead empty.
Odd. Washingtonians were famous for their voracious coffee appetites. She’d expected to find the place packed, especially since this store was the only thing that remotely resembled a coffee shop in Moonlight Cove.
Maybe business was bad. Lily hoped not. She desperately needed the barista job advertised in the help-wanted sign in the window. Though being a coffee jockey wasn’t her dream occupation, it was a paying proposition, and those were few and far between in a town the size of her hometown. She needed money; her future as a fashion designer was at stake.
Putting her still-dripping umbrella in the metal holder by the door Lily headed toward the unmanned front counter. As she neared it, she heard a shrill sound that seemed to be coming from behind a door to the left of the counter. She cocked her head, her eyebrows drawn together. Was that a...baby crying?
She listened intently. Yes, yes, it was. The sound was a baby wailing, actually. Her well-developed baby-soothing instincts had her immediately cringing. Her youngest sister, Laura, had shrieked like that from dawn to dusk when she’d been a newborn.
Lily stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Was the place even open? The door had been unlocked, and it was the middle of normal business hours on a Monday, so she assumed so. Should she go look for the manager? Just leave a résumé on the counter? Hunt for the shrieking infant? What? She hadn’t planned on finding the place deserted, and she certainly hadn’t expected to encounter an unseen child in distress.
Just as she was about to go find the baby and take care of the poor thing, the door behind the counter opened and a man holding said screaming infant over his broad shoulder stepped out.
Ah. One mystery solved.
The man, who appeared to be around Lily’s age of thirty, give or take, moved toward her. As the grayish light from the windows hit his face, she realized that everything about him screamed exhaustion. Mussed hair. Dark shadows under his eyes. Sagging shoulders. Clearly this baby had been on a crying jag of epic proportions. Lily knew how grueling that could be.
As he drew closer, she took a moment to surreptitiously study him, noting that the mussed hair was dark, thick and wavy. Touchable. The obvious shadows under his eyes did nothing to detract from the beauty of their clear, sky-blue color. And though his whole upper body hung heavy with obvious fatigue, he had the physique of an athlete. Or gym rat. Whatever. He was definitely the best-looking haggard guy she’d ever seen.
“May I help you?” he asked loudly. Tiredly. Judging by the way the baby was kicking its legs, it was one unhappy camper.
“Um...well, yes.” She adjusted the strap of the pleather briefcase she’d bought at a thrift store in Pacific Beach on her shoulder and tried to tune out the baby’s piercing cries. Or at the very least ignore them as best she could, despite her nurturing instincts hovering on high alert. “I’m looking for the manager.”
“That would be me. I’m Blake Stonely.” He yawned, putting his free hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”
“Oh, okay,” she said at full volume. “I’m Lily Rogers, and I wanted to apply for the job.”
“The job?” He jiggled the baby, then started awkwardly rocking from foot to foot. “Oh, man, did I leave the sign out?”
Disappointment dug in. No job? “Yes, it’s there.” She’d seen it as she’d dashed through the rain from her mom’s car to the front door.
“I’m so sorry, the job’s been filled, just an hour ago, actually.”
Lily clenched her jaw. She was a mere hour too late? Great. Just great.
Blake jostled the baby. “What with Peyton here crying up a storm, I forgot to remove the sign.”
As if in reaction to her—or his—name, Peyton’s staccato cries grew louder. Harsher. More frantic.
Lily’s heart just about shattered, which helped take her mind off, at least temporarily, the fact that her one and only job lead had dried up, just like that.
“This has been going on since 5:00 a.m.,” he muttered, his voice coated in bone-tired exhaustion. “And she only slept three hours last night.”
Ah. A little girl. “Oh, that’s rough.” Lily wanted to ask where Peyton’s mom was, but she held back. Clearly he was on his own with the baby, at least for the moment.
Without thinking much, she lifted up her arms. “Mind if I try?” Many years spent helping her mom with her four younger siblings—Laura in particular—might help Peyton to settle down. Besides, the crying was pitiful and really tugged on Lily’s heartstrings.
He raised his brows. “You want to try getting her to stop crying?”
“Yes, I would.” She waggled her hands. “Hand her over. Besides, you look like you need a break.” As in, he looked like death warmed over. Twice. Not that she’d say that. He clearly had his hands full.
“O-okay,” he said, holding the baby out, then turning her to face Lily. “But nothing works.” In seeming response, Peyton kicked her little legs and screamed louder.
Lily took Peyton from him, noting her red, scrunched-up, tear-stained face. “Hey, little girl.” Lily recalled what had worked with her middle sister, Lydia, and gently laid Peyton back in the crook of her elbow while her other arm slid under Peyton’s bottom. “What seems to be the problem?”
Peyton paused for a moment, staring up at Lily with clear blue eyes that looked a lot like her daddy’s. Blessed silence engulfed the room.
Lily was certain the quiet was just temporary.
Sure enough, after a few beats of silence, Peyton started up again, going stiff and screwing up her face and letting loose with a wail that pierced Lily’s ears.
Blake held out his hands, a look of pure defeat on his face. “See? I told you.”
“Give me a moment.” With well-practiced precision she began to smoothly swing Peyton from side to side, maintaining eye contact. Automatically, Lily began to sing a lullaby in a hushed voice as she walked away from the counter—swing, swing, swing—back and forth from side to side in wide arcs, smooth as silk.
Peyton still cried, squirming, her little body tense. But after Lily’s third circuit around the small space, weaving in and out of the tables, the baby’s cries grew less frantic. Lily kept moving—swing, swing, swing—and by the time she made her way back to Blake, who’d slumped exhaustedly into a chair by the counter, Peyton had quieted and was drifting off to sleep.
Blake gave Lily an incredulous look, then opened his mouth to talk.
Lily shook her head and kept singing.
Rising, he pointed to the door from which he’d emerged earlier. She nodded and followed him into a small room that was obviously his office-slash-makeshift nursery. The space had a large, neat desk and task chair facing out from one corner, one other beat-up plastic chair opposite the desk and a rickety-looking bookcase with a well-organized collection of books and folders in the other corner. The rest of the area was taken up by a playpen and numerous other items of baby paraphernalia, all neatly arranged in one corner. A literal stockpile of kid equipment.
He turned and indicated the playpen, which was lined in all kinds of fleecy blankets, showing Lily she should put Peyton down there. But Lily was no baby care rookie; it was always wise to hold on to a baby for a few minutes to be sure she was actually sound asleep. She held up a finger—Wait...
Blake gestured in acknowledgment and then went over and plopped into the desk chair, his shoulders sagging. He ran a hand over his head, and suddenly it was obvious why his hair was so messy. She was surprised he had any left. Clearly he’d had a rough go lately.
She kept swinging Peyton, back and forth in a comforting motion. Pretty soon every muscle in her little body went limp and Lily knew the baby slept soundly enough to be put down. Ever so carefully she bent over, holding her breath, and laid Peyton on her back amid the blankets, pulling one up to cover her, snug and warm. Lily waited, hoping Peyton had worn herself out and would sleep, as much for her own sake as Blake’s.
Peyton slept on, even as Lily rose and pointed to the door. She went out into the store and Blake followed her, closing the door quietly behind him.
“You’re amazing,” he said when they were away from the door. “She hasn’t gone down for a decent nap in days.”
His praise warmed her up inside. “I just have lots of experience with babies.”
His eyebrows rose. “You have kids?”
“Goodness, no.” Kids tied a person down, limited their options. “I’m the oldest of four younger siblings and I helped raise them.” As the oldest girl it had fallen upon Lily to supply child care so Mom could work cleaning houses and at the local grocery store to keep the household afloat.
“Ah, I see,” Blake said. “Well, I appreciate your help. I’ve been at my wit’s end trying to get her to sleep.”
Curiosity rose in Lily, and she wanted to ask about Peyton’s mom. She opened her mouth to voice her question, but she clamped it shut just as quickly. She didn’t want to pry or bring up a possibly sensitive subject. She barely knew this man.
“You’re probably wondering about Peyton and me.” He put a green apron on.
Lily canted her head slightly. “Kind of.” Dying to know, actually.
“Peyton is my niece.” He filled a sink behind the counter with water, his jaw visibly tight. “My sister was her mother.”
Was? Lily’s heart sank. This didn’t sound good. She said nothing and simply waited for him to go on.
“She...um...” He turned the water off and stood with his head down and his eyes closed, clearly composing himself.
Lily’s eyes burned.
Finally he went on. “She was killed by a drunk driver a month ago, and I have temporary custody of Peyton.”
“Oh, no.” She swiped at tears that had sprung up. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“What about Peyton’s father?” she asked, then realized she was being nosy.
“He and Anna weren’t married, but were planning a wedding next summer,” he replied in an even tone. “He was killed in the line of duty in Afghanistan while Anna was pregnant.”
A knot formed in Lily’s chest. “Oh, no. So she’s an orphan. Poor little thing. Thankfully she has you.”
“Anna and I were very close, and losing her...well, it’s been really rough.”
Empathy welled. “I’m sure it has.” Suddenly, his story tweaked a memory. “Did the accident happen out on Old Pass Road?”
He just nodded ever so slightly, seemingly incapable of speech.
“I used to work at The Clothes Horse, and Jean, the owner of the store, mentioned that accident.” Jean had suddenly decided to retire and close the store last week. Hence, Lily’s need for a job.
“Yeah, that was Anna,” he said, his voice husky. “Peyton was only three months old when her mom died.”
A horrific thought occurred to Lily. “Was the baby in the car?”
“Thankfully, no. Peyton was with me. Anna was on her way to a doctor’s appointment in Pacific Beach, and was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He let out a shaky sigh. “She was only supposed to be gone for an hour or two.”
Lily shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I know how rough it is to lose someone you love.”
He looked at her, his gaze questioning.
“My dad died of cancer when I was in high school, and though my grief has muted over time, I still miss him terribly.” Everything had changed that day. Lily’s life most of all. Mom had gone to work, and Lily had become her younger siblings’ primary caretaker. All of her dreams had been deferred then.
“So the grief gets better?” Blake asked, a twinge of hope in his voice.
“Yes, it does.” It had taken a while to ease—a long while, actually—but Lily didn’t want to depress him even more.
“I hope so.” He turned the water back on and squirted some soap in the sink.
Lily looked around. “So, you’re running the business and taking care of Peyton full-time?”
“I usually have help with Peyton, but my babysitter called in sick yesterday. Hopefully she’ll be back tomorrow.”
“You’ve got a lot on your plate.”
“Yes, I do.” He put some dishes in the sink and turned the water off. “I had no idea what goes into parenting.”
“It’s a full-time job.” One Lily didn’t want for a long while. She was determined not to follow in her mother’s footsteps. No kids, no man, nothing tying her down right now. Now that her sister Laura was close to graduating from high school, Lily finally had the opportunity to pursue her own dream of winning the TV show Project Fashion and becoming a fashion designer.
“And I already have one running this place, so I’ve been crazy busy.” Blake gestured around. “I haven’t even had time to do my morning routine.”
“But the job is taken?” she asked, going back to the reason she was here. She’d saved every penny she’d made working part-time at The Clothes Horse, except for what she’d given Mom for unexpected car repairs, but Lily was still several thousand dollars short if she were to save for the plane fare and rent in LA, where she planned on staying indefinitely. A temporary job until June was a must.
“Yes, I’m sorry, it is.” Blake headed out toward the tables. “A kid showed up midmorning and I hired him.” He gathered a few empty coffee cups. “He starts tomorrow.”
Disappointment clogged Lily’s throat. “The early bird gets the worm, right?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Blake frowned. “Again, I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” She should have come in yesterday when she’d first seen the sign. But Laura had needed a ride to basketball practice, and with Mom at work, Lily had had to take her. Seemed there was always something pulling at her these days.
He dried off his hands on a bar towel, then went to the register and grabbed a pen and a pad of paper. “Here, write your name down and if the kid doesn’t work out, I’ll call you.”
She did so, then handed him the paper. “Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”
“And I appreciate your help with Peyton.”
“No problem. She’s a darling little girl.”
His blue eyes went soft. “Yes, she is. Now, if I could just get her to be a quiet little girl, we’d be golden.”
“It’ll get better.” Lily held her arms as if she were holding a baby, then did the baby-soothing swing, swing, swing. “And remember the motion.”
He nodded. “Right. I’ll give your technique a try.”
“If you need any more help, you know how to reach me. Call me anytime.” Belatedly she realized that her comment could have been construed as an invitation to ask her out. “For baby advice,” she said in a remarkably even voice. Yeah, just that. She definitely wasn’t looking for any kind of romance. She remembered how broken Mom had been after Daddy died. Lily never wanted to be so vulnerable to emotional devastation by a man. And, anyway, she was determined to leave Moonlight Cove permanently and follow her own dreams in LA.
“I hope I can keep track of your number,” he said. “Sleep deprivation has made me spacey.”
“I know how that can be. My mom routinely lost track of what day it was when she was up all night with babies. My twin brothers just about drove her around the bend.” Liam and Larry were still wild, though they were both now in college. Funny how they’d escaped to follow their dreams and Lily hadn’t. The benefit of being male and not firstborn in her family.
A look of horror materialized on Blake’s face. “I can’t imagine having two at once.”
“Well, by that time I was old enough to help out quite a bit, which made things a bit easier.” For Mom. Not so much for Lily.
“How old were you when they were born?”
“Nine. And then she had two more after them.”
He paused, clearly doing the math in his head. “So...that’s five kids?”
“Yep. My youngest sister, Laura, is a senior in high school.”
“Wow. Five.” He shook his head. “I can barely handle one.”
“Well, the twins are now in college, so we lived.”
The buzzer sounded, signaling the arrival of a customer. Lily turned and saw Mrs. De Marco, one of her mom’s cleaning clients, enter the store. Mrs. De Marco was clad in a sturdy-looking raincoat, and had a plastic rain hat covering her silver-gray hair. She carried several shopping bags in her gnarled hands.
Lily rushed forward. “Here, Mrs. De Marco, let me help you with those.”
“Oh, bless you, Lily.” She handed one of the bags over. “I thought I could handle them, but as usual, I’ve overestimated my ability to actually be able to get my treasures to my car.”
Lily put one bag on a nearby table, then took the other one from Mrs. De Marco. “No problem. I’m strong.”
“You take after your mother, then,” Mrs. De Marco said, removing her rain hat. “She’s a hard worker and does a wonderful job cleaning my house. Even the hard jobs like scrubbing floors.”
Lily put the other bag down, wondering what Mrs. De Marco had purchased. Bricks, maybe? “Yes, she definitely works hard.” A widow with five kids had little choice.
Mrs. De Marco toddled to the counter. “Well, hello, young man.”
Blake inclined his head. “Good afternoon, Mrs. De Marco. Your usual?”
“Yes, please.”
“Double low-fat latte, heavy on the whipped cream and caramel, coming right up.” Blake went to work behind the counter.
Lily stepped back to stand beside Mrs. De Marco. “Why don’t I help you get your bags to your car?”
“Oh, dear, would you?”
“Of course.”
“That would be wonderful. With this rain, my packages would be soaked by the time I managed to get them in the trunk.”
“Would you like some coffee?” Blake asked Lily.
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Lily replied. Actually, a warm drink sounded good, but coffee drinks weren’t in her budget.
“Oh, pshaw,” Mrs. De Marco said, waving a hand. “It’s cold and rainy out. You need something to warm you up.”
Lily shook her head. “No, it’s fine, really.”
“Well, I’m getting you a drink, on me.”
“I don’t know...” Lily said. Her mother had instilled in her a strong desire to provide for herself.
“I insist, my dear.” Mrs. De Marco looked at Blake. “She’ll have what I’m having, to go, of course.”
Lily gave up the fight. Clearly Mrs. De Marco had it in her head to treat Lily to coffee. And, actually, a steamy, rich coffee concoction sounded lovely; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a store-bought drink, much less one with whipped cream on top. How decadent!
Mrs. De Marco paid, and then she and Lily sat at a nearby table. While they waited for their drinks, Lily did her best not to stare at Blake as he worked with quiet efficiency behind the counter making the coffees.
The more she saw him in action, though, the more she decided he was one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen. Something about the combination of his dark hair and blue eyes, maybe? Or perhaps it was his broad shoulders and lean waist? Or maybe his sculpted cheeks and firm jawline, which, she’d noticed, was whisker-shadowed in the most appealing way? Add to that the fact that he’d taken in his orphaned niece and was willingly raising her, and yes, he was definitely attractive.
“Lily, dear, our drinks are ready,” Mrs. De Marco said as she stood. “This weather has made my hip cranky, and now that I’ve sat down, I’d just as soon wait by the door. Would you mind getting them?”
“Oh, um, yes,” Lily said, thankful Mrs. De Marco had pulled Lily’s thoughts away from the owner of the store. She went over to the front counter to pick up their drinks, very studiously keeping her gaze off Blake. Nothing but trouble there. She needed to get out of there.
Just as her hands touched the drinks and she was about to make her getaway, he caught her eye with a wave and lift of his chin.
She stopped, her hands falling to her sides, her heart giving a little hiccup.
He came over, a towel slung across one broad shoulder. “Thank you so much for your help with Peyton today,” he said, a light smile gracing his face, magically transforming him from haggardly handsome to flat-out drop-dead gorgeous.
Wow. As if he needed to get any better looking.
He went on. “Even a little break was great, and I’ll definitely be using your swing technique.”
She swallowed and tried not to gawk. “You’re welcome,” she managed, somehow sounding completely unaffected by him. When had she become such a good fake-out artist?
Blake flipped the towel down and began wiping the counter in front of her, bending just a tad closer. “Again, if the kid I hired doesn’t work out, I’ll call.”
She picked up the drinks, glad they had lids. “Okay, sounds great.” She lifted one drink-laden hand. “Bye.”
With that she turned and headed to the front door, where Mrs. De Marco waited, sure she would never hear from Blake Stonely ever again.
And given her unwanted reaction to him, that was probably for the best.
* * *
Blake covertly watched Lily and Mrs. De Marco as they walked away. After a brief discussion, Lily grabbed her umbrella from the holder by the door with her free hand and then followed Mrs. De Marco out. Before the door could even close, Lily had the umbrella up and over the elderly woman to keep her from getting wet.
Blake watched them walk left, presumably toward Mrs. De Marco’s car. He couldn’t help but be impressed by Lily Rogers. She’d jumped in to help him out, and had also been quick in assisting Mrs. De Marco. He liked her. From afar, of course. And there was no harm in that.
Once the ladies were out of view, he turned and began putting clean coffee mugs in their place. But his thoughts remained on Lily. She’d looked younger than his own age of thirty-one, but she had to be close to that age to have brothers in college who were nine years younger than she. He’d noticed that she was tall and slender with long chestnut-hued hair and a pale, smooth complexion devoid of much makeup. Very pretty, in a natural, girl-next-door kind of way.
What a refreshing change after Amy, who’d spent a good hour in the morning getting ready for work and was always shopping for the latest makeup products and clothes in Manhattan, where they’d both lived and worked. He’d guess she spent a good portion of her lawyer’s paycheck on makeup, her expensive car and clothes every month.
Just the thought of his former fiancée had Blake’s hackles rising. He let out a breath, searching for calm. Had he really lived that high-flying lifestyle once? It seemed five lifetimes ago, though in reality he’d left New York just under a year and a half ago.
Left New York. The burn of failure spread through him, hollowing out his gut as it always did. He couldn’t bomb out again.
He looked around The Cabana and his resolve wavered. Though he’d had a spurt of customers this morning, overall business wasn’t good and the shop was hovering on the edge of red. And now with Peyton to take care of, he was wondering how he was going to make it all work.
How was he going to keep the wolf away this time?
Just the thought of failing again filled him with dread, and made him wonder if he’d done the right thing by following Anna to Moonlight Cove when his job had gone bust in New York. It had seemed like the perfect plan to Blake: move to Moonlight Cove, live in the same town with Jim and Fran, and Anna, too, who had moved to Moonlight Cove three years earlier to be close to Jim and Fran, as well. His family. Small but perfect.
But now Anna was gone.
A wave of grief washed over him and he felt his eyes burn.
His downward spiral of emotions was interrupted when the buzzer over the door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. Blake looked up.
A group of five ladies he didn’t recognize—tourists, he figured—came in and ordered, keeping his hands busy for the next little while, and his mind focused on the here and now.
Just as they all sat at a table by the window, drinks in hand, two more customers came in. He recognized Jeb Campbell, who ran the local hardware store, and Myra Fleming, the local librarian. He got them their drinks, and very quickly the bell over the door was going off again. Maybe all this business was a sign of busy times to come.
Blake looked up from making a fresh pot of brew and saw Jim Wilson, his foster father, come in, his trademark baseball cap in his hands—he’d always been a stickler for manners. Jim’s gray hair was, as usual, cut military short and neat. He wore a pair of worn jeans and a green windbreaker, and had a large square bandage on his right cheek. Jim was in treatment for a relapse of skin cancer and had just had a biopsy yesterday. Just the thought of losing someone else filled Blake with heartrending grief.
“Hey. What are you doing up and about?” Blake said as Jim headed to the counter. “I know for a fact you’re supposed to be resting.”
“Aw, don’t you start,” Jim said, waving a hand. “Fran’s been all over me to take it easy, and she knows I hate just lyin’ around.” Fran was Jim’s wife of forty years and one of the most wonderful, kindhearted women Blake knew. He’d been blessed with fantastic foster parents. Having no kids of their own, Fran and Jim, Blake’s freshman math teacher, had taken Blake and Anna in out of the goodness of their very big hearts when Blake and Anna’s mom had died of a drug overdose during Blake’s freshman year. Blake and Anna’s dad had walked out when Anna was just a few months old.
“That’s because she cares about you, and because you’re a stubborn old goat when it comes to taking care of yourself.”
“I know. I just needed some fresh air, so I thought I’d come down here and get me a cup of your strongest brew.”
“Coming right up.” Blake turned and went to the special pot of straight black coffee he kept just for all of the older customers who weren’t interested in frothy drinks and just wanted a good old-fashioned cup of hot joe. He poured, expecting to see sludge ooze out at any moment. To each his own.
He set the cup of goo in front of Jim.
As usual, Jim went for his wallet.
“It’s on the house,” Blake said per tradition, waiting for the dialogue that always followed.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure,” Blake said, taking comfort in the reliability of their discussion.
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Okay, then.” Jim picked up the cup and drank. He sighed heavily. “Oh, yeah, just what I needed on such a wet, cold day, especially since Fran only serves decaf.”
“You still telling her that’s what I always give you?”
“Maybe,” Jim said with a quirk of his lips.
“If she asks me, I’ll tell the truth.” Blake’s mom had lied to him and Anna all the time about anything and everything; he hated falsehoods, even harmless ones.
“I’d expect nothing less.” Jim looked around. “Place seems busy.”
“Right now,” Blake replied, his jaw tight. Jim knew the business was struggling. Though The Coffee Cabana was the only stand-alone coffee store in town, for some reason the locals weren’t coming in as much as Blake had planned. He did okay in the summer, when the tourist business was good. But it wasn’t enough to sustain the business all year.
“Overall, though?” Jim asked, his blue eyes intent.
“Still not good.” Blake swung around and turned on the sink’s faucet.
“My offer is still open.”
“I’m not taking your money.” Jim had offered a loan a few months ago, and Blake had turned him down then. “You’ve already done enough for me.” Saved his and Anna’s lives, actually. He couldn’t ask for anything more from him and Fran.
“You’re determined to make this place work on your own, aren’t you?” Jim asked, his hands hugging his coffee cup.
“Yes, I am.” Blake turned off the faucet. “I failed once. I’m not letting it happen a second time.”
“I know, I know.” Jim nodded. “I was just hoping that maybe you’d reconsider, especially now that you’ve got Peyton to think about.”
Blake set his hands on the counter and leaned in. “It’s been a challenge, handling her and the store, but I’m going to make it work.” What other choice did he have? He had to do right by Anna and take care of Peyton, and letting go of The Cabana was out of the question.
“You sure you don’t want me and Fran to pitch in?”
“You’re on medical leave fighting cancer, and Fran works full-time.” Fran was a bookkeeper for a local business. “I can’t impose on you.”
“I guess I was just thinking when you moved here we’d be able to help out more.”
“You have helped out, more than anybody else has ever helped me.” Blake went over to the bakery case and grabbed a marionberry muffin, Jim’s favorite, then went back to the counter. “But I have to do this by myself to prove I can succeed on my own.” He pulled a plate out from an undercounter shelf, put the muffin on it and set it down in front of Jim. He just stared at Jim, one eyebrow raised, daring him to try to pay for it.
“I know, but we’d still like to jump in however we can.”
“Not necessary.”
Without saying a word, Jim peeled off the paper liner and took a bite. When he was done chewing, he looked at Blake. “Are you ever going to forgive yourself for what happened in New York?”
“I made a bad call and not only lost all I’d worked so hard for, I also lost some of my clients’ money.” Blake drew in a steadying breath, trying to breathe around the lump forming in his throat. “I’m not sure that’s something I’m ever going to be okay with.” Getting that pink slip had been the bitter icing on the cake.
“You have to forgive yourself before you can move on,” Jim said, his eyes full of empathy.
“I know,” Blake said. This wasn’t the first time he and Jim had had this conversation. “And that sounds easy.” Deceptively so.
“But it isn’t.”
“Right.” Blake had thought rebounding from the debacle of his life in New York would be the most difficult thing he’d ever have to do. Now he realized trying to run a business while being responsible for a baby would hold that place of distinction in his life. Funny how things could turn on a dime.
Jim looked at him over his coffee cup, then put the mug on the counter. “Say, I saw Lily Rogers and Maria De Marco a block up a few minutes ago with to-go cups in their hands.”
“Yes, they were here,” Blake replied.
“I had all of Lily’s siblings in my math class.” Jim had taught freshman math at Moonlight Cove High School since he and Fran had moved here ten years ago to be closer to Fran’s ailing mother. “Liam, Larry, Lydia and Laura. All Ls.”
“She was here applying for the job.”
“Ah,” Jim said, wiping his hands. “Did you hire her?”
“No, I already found someone and hired him.” Blake rubbed at a spot on the counter. “He starts tomorrow.”
“Oh, well, good. Sounds like you have it all worked out,” Jim said.
Right as Jim finished speaking, Jay Wright, the local insurance agent, came in and headed straight for the front counter. He ordered, and as soon as Blake was finished serving him he went back over to Jim.
“Lily came to a couple of Liam and Larry’s parent conferences. She’s a very nice young woman,” Jim said without preamble.
“Yes, she is.” One of the nicest Blake had met here in Moonlight Cove. Not that he’d met many; he didn’t have a lot of time for any kind of social life.
“I’m pretty sure she’s single,” Jim said, looking over his coffee cup with a speculative gaze. “At least the last I heard.”
Blake deadpanned him.
“What?” Jim said, shrugging. “You’re single. She’s single. In my day, guys took note of that kind of stuff. And we asked nice young women out on dates.”
“You know I’m not interested in dating,” Blake said. “And you know why.”
“Just because Amy was unfeeling and greedy doesn’t mean all women are like that.”
“She dumped me when I lost most of my money,” Blake said, the words bitter on his tongue. Though he knew now he hadn’t really loved Amy, she had mortally wounded his pride when she’d dumped him, and a wall had gone up around his heart.
“So, what? You plan on being alone for the rest of your life?” Jim asked with a lift of his grizzled brow.
“Between that and my business problems and now Peyton, dating is the last thing on my mind.” Seems he’d spent his life being abandoned by women. Even when she was alive, Mom hadn’t been there for him or Anna. Essentially killing herself with drugs had been the final blow. No way was he taking another chance.
“Fair enough,” Jim said, canting his head and nodding. “But nice, attractive, kind women aren’t always easy to come by. Maybe you should keep an eye on Lily Rogers, just in case you change your mind.”
The overhead bell rang, and the lovely subject of their conversation came sailing back into the store, her windswept, damp hair fluffed up around her rosy cheeks.
Blake watched her, his heartbeat accelerating just a bit.
She pointed to the floor next to the chair she’d been sitting in. “I forgot my briefcase,” she said embarrassedly. Bending down, she picked it up and slung it over her slim shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder where my brain is.” She pointed to her head and made a silly expression.
Blake found himself smiling.
Like a pretty whirlwind of constant motion she headed back to the door and with another wave she was gone into the rain-swept afternoon as quickly as she’d reappeared.
Still grinning, Blake turned his attention to Jim. “More coffee?”
Jim shook his head and placed his hand over his cup. “So, the way you tell it, you’re not interested in Lily.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Blake said, infusing an extra amount of certainty into his voice. He had to head this off or Jim would have Blake and Lily on a date this very night and head over heels in love by the weekend. Jim was a hopeless romantic, and fully prescribed to the love-conquers-all theory of life.
Blake thought that attitude was shortsighted and idealistic. Real life had taught him to be wary of letting others gain control of one’s heart.
“Then why were you watching her so intently just now?” Jim asked, his blue eyes trained on Blake like a laser.
Blake’s face heated. Caught. Worse yet, he didn’t have a plausible response. So he just glared at Jim.
Jim chuckled. “That’s what I thought,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “You like Lily, my friend. More than you think you should.”
Blake was very afraid Jim was right.
No matter. He’d probably never see her again.
Chapter Two (#ulink_aa50d89e-7091-5a11-88b2-95cbd69a05d4)
Blake rang the doorbell of Molly and Grant Roderick’s house, holding Peyton’s baby carrier in his right hand. It felt odd to be arriving at a social function when his focus for the past month had been on the store and Peyton and nothing else remotely resembling any kind of life. But he needed some kind of social interaction, some kind of break, or he’d lose it. Though he was only acquainted with Grant and Molly as customers at The Cabana, and the one time Blake had come to a singles’ group function had been about a year ago, he was still grateful to them for including him.
The door opened and Grant stood there. “Hey, Blake. Glad you could make it.” With a welcoming smile, he moved back and gestured Blake in.
“Thanks.” Blake stepped through the threshold into an oak-trimmed entryway and set the carrier on the floor. “I appreciate you letting me bring the baby.”
Grant bent down and looked at a bundled-up, sleeping Peyton, smiling. “No problem at all. We all love babies. And it’s good for you to have a break from your killer schedule.”
Blake unbuttoned his coat. “Yeah, it’s been a little rough.” Peyton had slept a little better last night, but had still woken up fussing three times. And Mrs. Jones was still sick, so he’d had to juggle Peyton and the store again today. He really hoped Mrs. Jones was able to work tomorrow; another day doing double duty wouldn’t be good, even though the kid he’d hired as a barista, Jonah, was doing well. Blake was already behind in never-ending paperwork and the general administrative tasks inherent in owning a business. “Thanks.” He took his coat off and put it in Grant’s outstretched hand.
“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m so sorry about Anna.” Grant opened a nearby closet and hung up Blake’s coat.
A lump formed in Blake’s chest. “Thanks.” If he said more, he’d probably break down, so he left it at that.
“Everybody’s in the kitchen, so right this way,” Grant said, gesturing behind himself.
Blake picked up Peyton and followed Grant through a good-size living room tastefully decorated with brown leather couches, a colorful area rug, a large-screen TV and two dog beds sitting side by side. Voices floated to him from the kitchen.
When he stepped into the room, several heads turned. He recognized Molly, and a few other people who’d been into the store, though he didn’t know their names.
Molly stepped forward from the family room adjoining the kitchen, drawing his attention. “Blake! It’s good to see you.”
“Thanks for having me.” He saw the snack spread on the table and mentally slapped his head. “Oh, I guess I should have brought something.”
She waved a hand. “No worries.” Her gaze went to Peyton. “You have this little angel to take care of.” Molly bent over. “She’s adorable.”
“Thanks.” Thankfully, Peyton slept on, even with the conversation in the room. Figured that now she would sleep. “Still. I should have realized it was a potluck.” Where was his brain lately? Lost in the haze of sleep deprivation and overwork, probably.
“Do you want to bring her with you while I introduce you around?” Molly asked.
“You want me to take her?” a familiar female voice asked from behind him.
He turned, and there stood Lily Rogers, a lovely smile on her face. “Hey!” he said, surprised to see her here. She wore a blue-and-white-striped top and had her hair up on top of her head, showing off her slender neck. Wow. She was even prettier than he remembered.
“Hey back,” she said, her eyes catching on his for just a moment before shifting to focus on Peyton. “How’s my girl Peyton these days?”
“Quieter,” he replied drily. “At least for now.”
“Oh, good.”
“I understand you and Lily met yesterday,” Molly said.
“Yes, she came in to apply for a job,” he said.
“How’s the new guy working out?” Lily asked.
“He’s fine,” Blake said. “Fortunately he had barista experience, so I haven’t had to do too much training.”
“I’ll have to come in and hit him with some random, weird order,” Lily said. “Put him through his paces.”
“Go for it,” Blake replied, liking the levity she brought to the conversation, even though she was discussing a job she hadn’t gotten.
Lily held her hand out. “Why don’t I take her into the living room, where it’s quiet, while you relax for a bit.”
“You sure you don’t mind?” He didn’t come here to foist Peyton off on someone else; he knew where his responsibilities lay.
“Of course not,” Lily replied, shooing him away. “Go meet everyone.”
“You’ll let me know if you need me?”
“I can handle her if she fusses,” Lily said with a crooked smile.
The teasing glint in Lily’s eyes made his heart bounce. “Yes, I guess you can.” Smiling back, he handed her the carrier. “Here you go.”
She hoisted it into the crook of her arm and headed into the living room. He couldn’t help but notice the curls at her nape as she walked away.
Grant came up and handed him a glass of what looked like lemonade. “You know Lily?”
“She came in yesterday to apply for the barista job.” Blake took a sip of his drink. Tart, but good. “I had to tell her it was already filled.”
“She seems to like Peyton,” Molly observed.
“She helped out yesterday when it got busy and Peyton was having a fit.” He smiled. “She’s a genuine baby whisperer.”
“She’s also a very good clothing designer.” Grant looked at Molly. “Didn’t you tell me she wants to go to LA and audition for some fashion reality show?”
“Yes, Project Fashion,” Molly said. “She’s very talented. She designs and makes most of her own clothes.”
Surprise and unexpected disappointment washed through Blake. “She didn’t mention any of this yesterday.”
“Going to the audition has been in the works for a while.”
“I got the impression she helped with her brothers and sisters a lot.” Her commitment to her family had impressed Blake yesterday.
“Yes, her dad died when she was in her early teens and Lily has helped her mom with her siblings since then.” Molly put her arm around Grant’s waist. “She’s put off her own dream for her family. She lost her job at a local clothing store last week, so she really needs one.” Molly waved at someone who’d just stepped into the kitchen. “She helps her mom out with bills and stuff, so it’s taken her a long time to save the money she needs to go to LA.”
More admiration spread through Blake. “I wish I could have hired her, then. Even temporarily.”
“Hopefully she’ll find something else soon,” Molly said.
“Sounds like she’s pretty set on the reality show,” Blake replied, still feeling inexplicably disappointed Lily would eventually be leaving town.
“Oh, she is,” Molly said, nodding. “I think she could win, too, if she just had the chance. Either way she plans on staying in LA for the foreseeable future.”
Blake suddenly heard Peyton crying. “Excuse me,” he said. “Peyton calls.”
He headed into the living room, and there sat Lily, holding a screeching Peyton. “Hey, there,” he said, rushing over. “What’s up?”
Lily stood, pulling Peyton close so her head was touching Lily’s cheek. “She just started in.” Her face froze. “Oh, wow. I think she has a fever.”
With concern bubbling through him, Blake laid a hand on Peyton’s forehead. Though he was no nurse, even he could tell she was way too hot to the touch. “I think you’re right.”
“Poor baby,” Lily said.
He leaned in to look at Peyton’s flushed face, trying to ignore how close he was to Lily. “She’s never been sick before,” he said as more worry chomped away at him.
“All babies eventually get sick.” Lily pulled away slightly and then started in with the swing, swing, swing thing she did so well. She gave him a look tinged in sympathy. “Not that that makes it any easier.”
Peyton quieted just a bit.
“I have no idea what to do with a sick kid,” he said, swiping a hand through his hair. He was so out of his element trying to take care of Peyton.
“Infant fever reducer would be a start.”
“Do I just get that at the grocery store?” This fatherhood thing was complicated.
“Yep,” Lily said. “It’s in the pain reliever section.”
He scratched his cheek. “How do I give her a pill?”
“It’s a liquid you can put in her formula, or squeeze in her mouth with a dropper.”
“Oh, okay.” There was so much to learn. He stood for a moment, his shoulders sagging. He was just barely keeping his head above water; how was he going to handle the store and a sick baby? He prayed Mrs. Jones would be back at work tomorrow. If not...was it possible Lily could help him out? She did need a job. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to ask, but he filed the idea away, just in case.
“I know it’s scary to have her be sick, but since she’s too young to be teething, it’s probably just a virus that will go away in a few days.”
He let out a heavy breath. “I hope so.”
Peyton started wailing again.
Molly came into the room, her brow creased. “Is everything okay?”
“Peyton has a fever,” he said. “I should go.” He rubbed Peyton’s overly warm head. “I don’t want to spread germs around.”
“Once you get the medicine in, she’ll feel a lot better,” Lily said. “She’ll probably conk out as soon as you get home.”
“I hope so,” he said. Just the thought of another sleepless night filled him with dread. Of course, he’d do whatever she needed. But the strain of no sleep and another long day tomorrow made him feel as if he wore a cement coat.
As Lily tried to put Peyton back in the carrier, the baby arched her back and screamed, making it difficult for Lily to get the straps over her head.
More worry scraped across Blake’s nerves.
“I know, sweetie,” Lily soothed as she got the Y strap over Peyton’s head and snapped it in. “Daddy needs to get you home.”
“I’m so sorry you have to leave,” Molly said, handing Lily Peyton’s blanket. “You’ll have to come to next month’s get-together.”
He just nodded. Though he’d given the gathering tonight a try, at this point, with so many things pulling on him, socializing had fallen to last on his list. Maybe he’d feel like going out...in a million years or so. Or maybe when Peyton turned eighteen. Provided she was still with him then. Permanent custody still hadn’t been determined yet.
Lily tucked the blanket around Peyton and stepped back. “There you go. Nice and cozy.”
Blake picked up the carrier. “Thanks for all your help,” he said to Lily before looking at Molly. “And thank you for having me. Say goodbye to Grant for me, would you?” Blake started moving toward the door.
“Of course,” Molly said. She hurried ahead of him and opened the door. “Bye. Take care of that little girl.”
“I will.” Feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on him, he went outside, down the cement stairs and headed to his car. He swung the carrier and Peyton’s crying went down a notch. Maybe she’d follow tradition and fall asleep in the car. But then she might not sleep tonight, and that meant he wouldn’t sleep, and tomorrow would be a bigger challenge than usual. The cycle went on and on.
Now he knew why God intended for kids to have two parents—to split the duties. What he would give for someone to help him out. But he was alone as a parent, with no one else to depend on. Though many people managed in his plight, he wasn’t sure he could do this by himself.
All of a sudden his stomach hollowed out and a feeling of hopelessness washed over him. He put the baby carrier down and leaned a hand on the window of the car and bowed his head for a moment.
Lord, how in the world am I going to cope with everything? Please, give me the strength to do so.
“Blake!”
He straightened and turned. Lily was heading out the door toward his car. Just the sight of her eased something inside of him, made him feel somehow less alone. Odd, since he barely knew her. He frowned slightly. He must be punchy from lack of sleep.
He unlocked the car and waited for her.
“You forgot your coat.” She held it out.
“Oh, thanks.” He took the coat from her. “Well, tonight was a bust.” He lifted the baby seat into the car.
“Not entirely.” Lily leaned in and stroked Peyton’s cheek. “I got to see this little lady.”
“And me,” he joked. Oh, man, where had that come from?
Lily pulled her chin in, blinking. “Um...yeah, that, too.”
“Ignore me,” he said, shaking his head in bemusement. “I was just teasing.”
“I know,” she said, shoving her hands in her pants pockets. “And...it was good to see you.”
“It was?”
“Well, sure. You need to get out.”
Oh, that was what she meant. “Yeah, but I don’t see that happening much for a while. I’ve got my hands pretty full.”
“I know. Let me know if I can help.”
He nodded. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. He was probably worrying for nothing.
“Okay, then.” Lily turned to the house.
Peyton let out a squawk and then started wailing again.
Lily spun back around. “Try not to worry too much,” she said. “Kids get sick and they get better.”
“I’ll try,” he said, closing the car door.
“And in case you didn’t know, The Market Pantry on the far south end of Main Street is open late.”
“Thank you,” he said.
She waved and then went up the stairs and disappeared inside.
Blake got in the car, and then started it. As soon as the engine turned over, Peyton’s crying ramped up. He gripped the steering wheel, feeling overwhelmed, drained and more alone than ever.
A break. He needed a break. And maybe a fill-in babysitter. Again, Lily came to mind. Was she the answer to his prayers?
With that question hovering in his mind and exhaustion hovering at the edges of his brain, he pulled out into the street and headed in the direction of The Market Pantry to get Peyton’s medicine.
It was going to be another sleepless night in a long line of many.
* * *
Lily hurried back into the house, and as soon as the door closed behind her, Molly stepped into the living room.
“You get him all situated?” she asked, her eyebrows lifted slightly.
“He forgot his coat,” Lily said breezily.
“You seemed awfully anxious to say another goodbye to him.” Molly smirked. “Grant said you almost ripped the coat out of his hands to take it out yourself.”
Maybe Lily had been a little grabby, though she’d tried not to be. But she wasn’t admitting it to Molly. Molly would latch on to that tidbit and take it to a place Lily wasn’t going. “There was no ripping involved.”
“He’s very handsome,” Molly said, coming at Lily from another angle. She was clearly fishing.
“You think?” Lily asked, looking as if she hadn’t considered Blake’s gorgeousness at all.
“What? You don’t find him attractive?”
Lily paused. “I didn’t say that,” Lily said, stopping short of lying.
“So you do find him attractive!” Molly said triumphantly.
“No harm in that,” Lily said, rationalizing both to herself and Molly. “Don’t get your hopes up.” Molly had met and married Grant over a year ago, and since she’d found true love, she wanted the same for Lily. Desperately. And while Lily was happy for Molly, happy-ever-after wasn’t on Lily’s radar right now. Winning Project Fashion was.
“But you did notice him.”
“I’d have to be dead not to notice him.” Lily was nothing if not pragmatic.
“Okay. You’ve really noticed him.” Molly cast Lily a brightly inquisitive look. “So...what did you think?”
Lily sighed. Molly wasn’t going to let up. And truth be told, Lily could use a shoulder. Maybe she should just spill and move on. “Well, I’ve actually been thinking about him a lot since we met.” As in all night long.
Molly moved in closer. “Really?”
“Yeah, and I have to say, it has me worried.” Lily nibbled on her bottom lip.
“You’re not interested in a romance,” Molly said. She and Lily had talked at length about Lily’s goals, and her desire not to be tied down with any kind of commitment so she would be free to go after Project Fashion. “And I get it.” Molly sank down onto the couch. “I didn’t want to fall for Grant, either. But sometimes we don’t have a choice in matters of the heart.”
“I choose and my heart listens,” Lily replied, lifting her chin. Or, that was the goal, at least. Think it, live it. Right.
“So why are you worried?” Trust Molly not to pull any punches. “Just move on with your plans and don’t give Blake a second thought.”
Lily opened her mouth to give Molly a retort, but quickly closed it. Lily stayed silent for a moment, then decided she needed to unload more or she’d go crazy. “Something about him draws me in.”
“Aha. Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Yes, maybe they were getting somewhere. Lily warmed to the subject. Maybe hashing it out would bring some clarity to the situation. And help her grow some semblance of a backbone. “Sure, he’s gorgeous.”
“Very.”
“But there’s also something else about him. A...vulnerability, maybe, that really calls to me.” Whatever it was, she was having a hard time pinning it down. She gnashed her teeth.
“Well, he has been through a lot lately.”
“I know. And he’s got this delightful baby to take care of, and he’s completely clueless about that, and he has this business to run.” Lily shook her head. “I don’t know, I just find myself thinking about him a lot and I don’t want to be distracted by him.”
“You don’t want any roadblocks.”
“Right. I’m on the cusp of moving forward with something I’ve waited a long time for. I can’t just set all that aside, you know.” Lily sat down next to Molly. “I’m too close to get sidetracked now.” A thought occurred to Lily. “But...being attracted to someone isn’t the be-all and end-all.” She warmed to her thoughts. “In fact, people are attracted to other people all the time, and it means nothing, goes nowhere, right?”
Molly looked at Lily sideways. “Um...yes...”
“So rather than deny the truth, I’m just going to accept it, voice it and that will be that.” Lily straightened her shoulders. “I’m attracted to Blake Stonely and I’m not going to let it bother me. I’m just going to get on with my life, business as usual.” She waited, half expecting a lightning bolt to strike her down from above.
But nothing happened. She sighed inwardly as relief spread through her.
“Feel better?” Molly asked.
“Yes, actually, I do. I’ve acknowledged my attraction to Blake out loud.” Lily stood. “Now I can forget about him.”
“You think it will be that easy?” Molly asked, her voice coated in skepticism. “I thought I could just ignore my feelings for Grant, too, and we both know how that turned out.”
With an engagement. And then a wedding. Their very own happy ending.
Lily scrambled for a foothold to support her argument. “It’ll be fine. I don’t have any reason to see Blake again. I’ll just putter along in my lane and soon enough I’ll be on my way to LA to win Project Fashion.” And her heart would stay just how she chose.
“So you think out of sight, out of mind?”
“Exactly.”
Molly gave her a look rife with doubt. “Let me know how that works for you.”
Lily shrugged off Molly’s disbelief. “It’ll be fine. I’m busy, or will be when I get a job, and he’s busy, too. Pretty soon he’ll be nothing but a memory in my rearview mirror.”
She was back on track. Yes. She felt better. Strong. Safe. Resolute. Perfect!
Free from worry about her fascination with Blake, she changed the subject. “Hey, do you still want me to help you plan the Valentine’s Day dance?” The singles’ group held a dance every year in honor of the most romantic day of the year. Lily went for the dancing, her second most favorite thing after designing clothes.
“Yes, definitely,” Molly said. “I was thinking of an ’80s theme this year.”
“Oooh, great idea. Nothing like a good hair-band song to get this girl on the floor.”
Molly grinned. “I thought you’d like that.”
An idea occurred to Lily. “I can go through my dad’s album collection for the music.”
“And I’ll have Grant transfer the tunes into digital format.”
“He won’t mind?”
“He’s a techno geek. He’ll love it.” Grant, a former programmer, owned a computer repair/software development company, which he ran from a Main Street storefront right next door to Molly’s store, Bow Wow Boutique, a designer pet store.
“Good point,” Lily said. “I’ll go through the albums soon, and then get them to him in the next week or so.” Valentine’s Day was still a few weeks away.
“I’ll let him know,” Molly said. “We should also make a trip to Party Depot in Pacific City for supplies.” Moonlight Cove lacked any kind of party supply store.
“Just let me know when you want to go,” Lily said.
“Will do.”
They rejoined the group in the family room and Lily relaxed and enjoyed the activities Grant and Molly had planned, as well as the cookies-and-cream cupcakes Grant’s aunt Rose Kincaid had baked for the event. Lily realized how much she’d needed a bit of socializing after the stress of her fruitless job search, and she was glad she’d decided to attend the event.
An hour after her conversation with Molly, Lily said her goodbyes, left and headed home, brainstorming job possibilities as she navigated the rain-slicked streets to the other side of town. She’d heard that a restaurant in the next town up the coast was hiring, and that perhaps the local dentist needed a receptionist while the regular gal went on maternity leave. Two leads to follow up on in the morning. One way or another, she had to find a job as soon as possible.
Just as she pulled into the driveway, her cell phone trilled. She pulled it from her coat pocket and checked the caller ID.
Blake Stonely. Lily’s heart did a little blip. Why was he calling? Her finger hovered over Answer, but she didn’t press it. She needed to gather herself before she talked to him. She didn’t know why, exactly. She was feeling her way here, and right now, she needed to deal with Blake via voice mail rather than by talking directly to him. Call her weak.
Eventually the ringing stopped. After about thirty seconds, a different sound came from her phone signaling she had a voice mail. With a quivery touch she punched the buttons to listen to the message, then held the phone up to her ear.
“Hey, Lily, it’s Blake Stonely.” A pause. “Listen, I hate to impose, but my sitter called and she has a bad case of pneumonia and she’s going to be out indefinitely.” A sigh came through. “Worse yet, Peyton is still running a fever, so I can’t take her to the store tomorrow. I hate to do this, but I was wondering if I could take you up on your offer to help out for a while, until my sitter is back on her feet. I’d pay you, of course.” He cleared his throat. “So, um, call me as soon as you can. Thanks.”
Lily clicked End Call and stared out the front window, her phone clutched in her hand. What was she going to do? Helping Blake wouldn’t exactly be out of sight, out of mind. In fact, coming to his rescue was the exact opposite of what she’d mapped out.
She let out a shaky breath, feeling torn. He was in a bind. She needed the money, and working for him for a bit would ease the job hunting pressure for a while. Would it really be smart to refuse a paying job?
Probably not.
Lily tapped a finger on her knee. Helping Blake was the right thing to do all around. She couldn’t turn him down. She didn’t have the heart to say no when he desperately needed her help, even though doing so felt like a distinct threat to her at the moment.
Bubbles of anxiety churned around inside of her like a rough ocean, setting her nerves on a jagged edge. She’d definitely have to find a way to work for Blake while keeping him at a safe distance.
She’d worked too hard, dreamed of being on Project Fashion for too long, to let anything derail her dreams now.
Chapter Three (#ulink_8d7f702d-dfe0-50ed-ac89-281d84d1f0b8)
Lily pulled into Blake’s driveway, her gaze roaming over the cute little 1940s house on Fogcutter Street, just east of downtown. His single-story home featured white paint, dark blue shutters flanking the windows and a wide front porch that was bare at the moment but would be a perfect place for a glider or swing.
The large lot had plenty of grass, lovely southern exposure and a picket fence running across the front yard. An ugly gray one that leaned to one side and had a few slats missing, but a picket fence nonetheless. The yard was a bit overgrown and neglected looking right now; clearly Blake didn’t have much time for gardening.
Little wonder, with everything he had going on.
Even so, it was a perfect house, replete with just the right amount of charm and old-fashioned flavor she loved so much.
Not that she’d ever live here. But the designer in her could see the potential and she could admire from afar.
She parked next to his compact car and sat for a moment, getting her nerves under control. She reiterated that she’d done the right thing by agreeing to babysit Peyton, both for Blake and for herself. She had to quit letting the prospect of working for him get to her. She was determined to contain her attraction and focus on Peyton. She could do this while remaining detached.
Taking a revitalizing breath, she climbed out of her car and hurried to the door, dodging raindrops. Even before she stood in front of the red wooden door, she could hear Peyton crying inside. Oh, boy. Blake had clearly been having a rough time.
She raised her hand to knock, but before she could, the door swung open.
A harried-looking Blake stood there with a screaming Peyton hoisted up over one shoulder. His hair was mussed and he had dark circles under his eyes. His jeans and T-shirt looked as if he’d slept—or perhaps not?—in them. He’d been through the wringer.
But he was still gorgeous. Of course. Maybe she’d been wishing he’d turn unattractive overnight? Not happening. Ever. She had to deal with it.
“Hey,” he said with a definitely weary edge to his voice. “Come on in.”
Lily stepped inside, determined to focus on the practical aspects of the situation. She made quick note of the living room, which was comprised of a tan microfiber love seat and sofa, dark wooden accent furniture and a large big-screen TV set at an angle in one corner. Nice, but bland. Very clean. But perfectly impersonal.
And...wow, there were vacuum marks in the carpet, as if he’d just vacuumed one minute ago. How odd. In her book, vacuuming would fall to just about last on the list if she were taking care of a fussy baby solo.
She turned her attention to Peyton. “She sounds like she doesn’t feel very well.”
“No, she doesn’t.” As he spoke, he shifted Peyton so she was lying down in his arms. Without missing a beat, he started the swing, swing, swing technique Lily had shown him a couple of days ago.
“Look at you,” she said, putting her purse on the couch that sat just to the left of the front door. “You’re a pro.”
He gave her a tired look edged in desperation. “Not really. I swung her like this all night long, and she still didn’t sleep much.” He yawned. “And neither did I.”
Lily held her hands up. “You want me to try?”
“Definitely,” he said, coming closer. “Here you go.”
He bent down slightly so the baby was at Lily’s level, and a whiff of his woodsy, masculine-smelling aftershave wafted through the air, right to her nose. It was all she could do to hold out her hands steadily as he transferred Peyton to her.
His arms touched Lily’s and she felt her knees tremble and her tummy somersaulted. She steeled herself and took the baby, keeping her in a prone position, trying to ignore Blake, which was about as easy as trying to ignore breathing.
“I’ve got her,” Lily managed, but her voice came out breathily. She zeroed in on Peyton’s red face, and then as soon as was practically possible Lily scooted away into the safety zone.
Able to breathe again, Lily started the swing, concentrating on Peyton rather than her wonderful-smelling uncle. She walked over to the big picture window that looked out over the front yard and did her baby calming there, moving in a small circle.
Hold the baby close. Swing, swing, swing.
Ignore the attractive man across the room.
Rinse. Repeat.
After a few circles, Peyton’s cries quieted. Lily kept it up and added a little extra flare at the end of each swing to further soothe Peyton. Her brother Liam always liked that motion.
From the corner of her eye, Lily saw Blake watching her intently, his hands on his hips. She tried to ignore him, but that proved impossible. Suddenly self-conscious, she went against her instincts and met his gaze.
His blue eyes grabbed on to her gaze.
“What are you doing?” she said in a loud whisper.
“I’m watching.”
She froze and a tingle ran up her spine. “Watching?”
“Your technique,” he said quietly. “Clearly you have some kind of magic way of soothing her. I’m watching and learning.”
“Oh. Of course.” She swallowed. So he was learning. It still unnerved her to have his gaze glued to her. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
He ran a hand over his face. “I hope so. This no-sleeping thing is going to catch up with me any day now.” Blinking, he shook his head. “Maybe it already has.”
“Good thing you have an unlimited supply of caffeine waiting for you at work,” Lily said, looking for levity. Anything to counterbalance the off-balance way his scrutiny made her feel.
He smiled. “Yeah, I never thought of that.”
“Well, there you go.” She looked down at Peyton. “She’s almost asleep. Where do you want her?”
He crooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Follow me.”
He headed down the hall to the right and Lily followed, keeping her steps fluid and smooth in the interest of keeping Peyton asleep. They passed two bedrooms and then, at the end of the hall, he went into the third one.
Lily stepped into the room. Gray morning light spilled in from the large window on the wall directly across from the door. The walls were plain white and devoid of any decorations. An oak crib with pink bumpers sat against one wall and there was a changing table nearby and a matching dresser, too, upon which sat a baby monitor. A bentwood rocker graced the near corner of the room. Two baskets of neatly folded laundry sat in front of the closet.
Blake went to the crib and pulled the fuzzy pink blankets back, looking Lily’s way. She got the message and moved in and gingerly lifted Peyton into the crib and laid her down on her back. As Lily withdrew her arms, she held her breath in hopes the baby would sleep on even though she wasn’t held snugly in Lily’s arms.
After a moment, Peyton let out a little whimper, stiffening and flailing a little hand in the air. Lily froze and she saw Blake do the same. But then the baby settled, and finally she slept, her little bow mouth working as she drifted off.
Lily looked at Blake, nodding. She mouthed, “She’s asleep.”
He nodded, then pointed to the door.
Lily turned and tiptoed out.
Blake followed, pulling the door closed behind him but leaving it ajar, pointing down the hall, indicating Lily should go back into the living room.
She headed to the other end of the house, mentally ticking off a checklist that had been forming in her head ever since she’d agreed to be Peyton’s nanny. Get fussy baby to sleep—check. Now, if she could simply meet and defeat the challenge of keeping her interest in Blake strictly professional, she’d be cool.
When she reached the living room, she turned, intending to ask Blake about Peyton’s meal schedule.
Before she could speak, Blake bowed with a flourish. “I bow down to you, oh wise and wonderful baby whisperer.” He straightened. “Please, share your secrets with me, the lowly man who’s deprived of sleep.”
She smiled, liking this playful side of him. Unable to resist his bantering, she held her hand up, palm out. “Please, please. Save your applause for later.”
He cocked his head at an angle. “Oh, so you think I’m joking?”
She blinked. “Aren’t you?”
“Not even close,” he said. “I thought it was a fluke when you managed to get her to sleep at The Cabana the other day. But now?” He shook his head. “You seem to have some kind of charmed way of getting Miss Fussypants to sleep.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you stressed out?”
He frowned.
“Just bear with me,” she said. “Are you stressed out?”
“Yeah, I am,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “I’ve got a business to run and a sick baby to take care of.”
“So you’re understandably tense. I get it. You have every right to be that way.” She smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “The thing is, babies can sense tension, and from my experience with my brothers and sisters, they tend to feed on it.”
“So I’m passing my tenseness on to Peyton?”
“To some extent, yes.”
His face fell.
“Not on purpose, of course,” she quickly said. “But my point is this. If you relax, she’ll relax.”
“I don’t even know what relaxing is these days,” he said with a grimace. “I just run from one crisis to another.”
His life sounded insanely chaotic. No wonder he and Peyton weren’t getting any rest. He was overwhelmed.
He looked at his watch, punctuating her thoughts about how busy he was. “Oh, wow, it’s getting late. Why don’t we go into the kitchen and I’ll go over things.”
“Good idea.”
He turned and headed through a doorway that, presumably, led to the kitchen.
Lily followed, curious to see the rest of the house.
She stepped into the kitchen and drew up short, taken aback at the room’s obvious lack of personality. The counters were devoid of anything, and the stainless steel appliances sparkled with nary a fingerprint visible. The tile floor sparkled, and a vague hint of floor cleaner hung in the air.
Had he actually mopped the floor this morning? And vacuumed, too?
She shifted her gaze around. The small breakfast nook held a small round table that had the chairs arranged around it in perfect precision, as if they’d been placed using a ruler. And the window above the gleaming stainless steel sink was so clear she would have sworn there was no glass in its panes.
It was a spare, cleaned-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life space and held no personal touches or evidence that anyone had ever eaten—much less cooked or enjoyed—a meal within the walls of the room.
In fact, the whole house smacked of a blank, antiseptic cleanliness that set her back a bit. She’d grown up in a messy, relaxed household, one where cleaning only happened when absolutely necessary. This place was so impersonal, so cold it made her sad.
She slanted her gaze to Blake. He opened a drawer and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen.
She swallowed a comment about the odd sterility of the place out of politeness. But the room spoke volumes about Blake and what was important to him.
And she had a sneaking suspicion she’d just agreed to work for a control freak of major proportions.
* * *
At about 11:00 a.m., during a lull in business—okay, the whole morning had been one big lull—Blake left the front counter in Jonah’s care and headed into his office to catch up on paperwork.
He was going to run an ad in the Moonlight Cove Gazette offering a two-for-one coffee deal on Tuesdays from noon to five as a way to drum up business. He couldn’t afford a graphic designer, so he was going to come up with something himself. He sat down behind his desk and booted up his computer, then went to the file he’d saved that contained the rough idea he’d come up with using a template he’d found on the internet. He put on his artist hat and tried to come up with something that was simple yet eye-catching.
His mind turned to Peyton. Poor little thing. Though her temperature had been normal when he’d left home, he still worried. He’d done a bit of research on the internet this morning and had read that viruses in infants her age could quickly turn serious.
Maybe he should check in with Lily again. Yeah, he would. He wouldn’t be able to focus on his work until he did. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and swiped it on. Then he went to Contacts and pressed the button for Lily he’d created while he’d been going over instructions with her this morning.
He tapped his fingers on his desk while the phone rang on the other end. After five rings, Lily answered. “Hello?” No crying in the background. That was good.
“Hi, it’s me,” he said, his shoulders tensing.
“I know it’s you.”
Right. Her phone would tell her that. He got to the heart of the matter. “How’s Peyton?”
“She’s the same as she was when you called an hour ago.”
Had it only been an hour? “Still sleeping?”
“No, she’s awake now, and I’m making lunch.”
“Any fever?” he asked, praying it was still down.
“No, she feels cool to the touch.”
Some of the tension in his shoulders eased. “Did you need to change her diaper?”
A sigh echoed through the line. “Yes, I did need to, and I did.”
He stood up. “The diaper disposer is in her closet—”
“I know, you showed me where it was.”
“Oh, yeah.” He rose and paused, the outside of his thigh propped against his desk. “What’s for lunch?”
A moment of silence. “Blake, do you trust me?”
“Yes,” he said immediately. “Of course.” Lily was levelheaded and smart, and had lots of experience with babies.
“Then you need to quit calling every hour and let me take care of Peyton.”
He grimaced. “I’m bothering you, aren’t I?”
“You’re concerned, I get that. But what’s the point of having me here if you’re doing all the work remotely?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She made a good point.
“I have this handled. I’ve got nothing else to do but focus on Peyton. Let me do that, and I promise if anything changes or if I have a question, I’ll call.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m overcontrolling.”
“A bit, yes. But with the best of intentions,” she said softly.
“I’m glad you see it that way.” Some people wouldn’t be so gracious; his need for control wasn’t always received well. Amy had chided him for the trait endlessly.
“Definitely. But you have to allow yourself some distance so you can take care of The Cabana. That’s why you hired me, right?”
“Right.”
“Then let me do my job, and I’ll be in touch if I need anything.”
“Okay.” He needed to back off.
“Would it make you feel better if I checked in every few hours?”
“Yes, probably.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.” She paused. “Let’s see. It’s just after eleven. How about I check in at two?”
“Um, well...” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “That seems like a long time.”
“Okay, how about one-thirty?”
“Sounds good.” Surely he could go two and a half hours without checking in.
“I’ll talk to you then.” A moment passed. “Oh, and, Blake?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this covered.”
His tense shoulders eased down all the way. “I know you do,” he said truthfully. “You’re very capable. Peyton’s in excellent hands, I know that.” Lily was better with Peyton than he was.
“Okay, then. Try to relax. Bye.”
“Bye.”
He pressed End and shoved his cell into his pants pocket. Boy, did he feel foolish. He’d been a pest this morning. In his defense, though, this was the first time he’d left an ill Peyton. He’d never imagined how hard it would be to turn over her care to someone else when she wasn’t feeling well. All of his protective instincts were on high alert.
He sat back down behind his desk. He had to find a way to let go of Peyton during the workday or The Cabana would be toast. He trusted Lily implicitly. She’d really saved the day by agreeing to fill in for Mrs. Jones. And the last thing he wanted was for her to think he didn’t have faith in her. He had to quit bugging her and rest assured that she would call if Peyton took a turn for the worse.
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