Blake swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The crappiest sleep of all-time had passed. He needed to face what he let happen. A smart man would have seen his ex at the door and sent her away. Maybe said something like, Sweetheart, our time has come and gone. If I’ve misled you in any way, I apologize, but nothing is going happen between us.
Yes, that’s what a smart man would have done.
Blake let his dick do the thinking for him last night. And the hurtful words he’d said to Charlie— Well, no wonder he slept like shit. It was called guilt.
As he reached down to retrieve his sweatpants and t-shirt, a reminder of the night before stared back at him. Charlie’s white panties lay several feet away on the floor. She must have dropped them in her rush out the door.
He leaned down and took them in his hand. He couldn’t resist their appeal. He raised them to his face. Her sweet smell hung on the white cotton causing him to stir deep inside.
Charlie may regret her decision to come over last night, but it’s unlikely that he ever will. He should have handled things differently at the end, but Charlie in his bed would never be bad.
Her skin, her smell, her kiss, the way she touched his body—it all made him feel alive. The most alive he’d felt his entire life.
He did his business in the bathroom and headed to the kitchen. “Good morning, grandma,” he said as he reached for the coffee pot, trying to hide how he felt.
“Good morning, Blake.” Her head tipped to the side. “You look like you had a rough night.”
“A bit.” He grumbled.
Her lips pulled to the side. “You remind me of your grandfather.”
He peered her way.
“Whenever something wasn’t right, and it weighed heavily on his mind, he’d have a lousy sleep.” She released a breath. “Blake, I don’t know what you’re struggling with, but you can’t ignore it. You need to fix it.”
She looked a moment longer, then in Grandma’s typical manner, she patted him on the cheek and changed the subject. “Today, would you take a look at my bathroom sink? The faucet is dripping.”
“Sure, Grandma.”
“Also, tomorrow morning, I have an appointment with my cardiologist. Would you please take me?”
“Of course.” He knew she could drive, but frankly he didn’t mind playing chauffeur to her. Maybe he’d even take her Jeep.
His cell phone rang in his pocket. The screen showed it was the bookkeeping firm he’d recently hired to do the company’s books. As business grew. Patrick got busier and more frazzled than usual. Blake was concerned he’d overwhelmed Patrick. Outsourcing some tasks seemed like an excellent option.
“Blake Strickland.”
“Blake. Hello. George McAnally here.”
“Hi, George. How’s everything going?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m seeing some strange items, anomalies, listed in accounts payable.” He heard a sigh come over the line. “It’s likely nothing, but I wanted to let you know as quickly as possible.”
“I appreciate it. What are we looking at here?”
“We won’t know anything for sure until we finish the audit.”
He felt the heat of anger crawl up his spine like a rat in search of food. George thought someone was stealing from him. “Dammit!” he muttered.
“Don’t beat yourself up, Blake. It could be nothing. I’ll call you as soon as we get confirmation.”
“Okay. Thanks, George. I appreciate the heads up.”
Blake stared into space. Could it be Patrick? It had to be a mistake. Patrick had access to the company’s financial data, and the bank account. The balance sheet always zeroed out, as it should. He hoped to hell George was mistaken.
He took in a breath through gritted teeth. Could this day get any worse?
Blake entered his grandma’s bathroom and thought he’d stepped back into the 1950s. Everywhere he looked he saw pink. Pink shower, pink tile halfway up the wall and the same pink tiles on the countertop. Oh, Lord. Grandma even had a pink toilet. The floor was black and white, or at least it had been at one time.
“Uh, Grandma. This room needs more help than fixing a leaky faucet.”
She glanced around, like she hadn’t seen the space every day of her adult life, and waved her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it, dear. We have bigger fish to fry.”
Yes, well, this isn’t staying this way for long.
Blake exhaled and leaned forward to set the toolbox down.
He reached below and shut off the hot and cold water valves, then he removed the handles. The corner of his mouth rose when he caught sight of a crescent wrench in the toolbox. Most likely a recent acquisition from one of his cousins. He pulled out the cartridge and jimmied out the ring and spring.
“Grandma, I’ll be right back. I will need to get replacement parts at Bradley’s.”
“Okay, dear,” she called back.
Blake had a hard time shaking off the funk he was in. On his drive to the hardware store, he decided to call Ty and Jack to see if they wanted to get together. If he could get his mind off Charlie, maybe things could return to normal.
“Hey, Jack. How’s it hangin’?”
“Long and hairy and hard to carry. What’s up, my man? How’s grandma?”
“She’s doing great. I’m callin’ to see if you would be up for Saturday’s football game.”
“Definitely. We play Northern Colorado.”
Hearing Jack’s enthusiasm already started turning Blake’s mood around. “Great. I’ll call Ty, too. I haven’t seen him yet.”
“Excellent.”
“Let’s meet at the house. I’ll text you the details.”
He disconnected the line and called Ty. Ty sounded good, and he’d made a full recovery. So with plans solidified, Blake had something to look forward to.
He parked in the parking lot behind Bradley’s and made his way to the building. He mentally went through the list of other things he would need for the house, like caulk and weather-stripping. He’d likely track down a few more things while he shopped.
Blake had immersed himself in his thoughts so deeply that he almost missed seeing Charlie exit a coffeehouse two doors down. She didn’t miss him, though. When he looked over, she held his gaze momentarily and then looked away. She didn’t smile. The coolness in her eyes and severity of her mouth let him know she hadn’t begun to forget what he’d said the previous night.
He should apologize. He knew it.
“Charlie,” he called out.
She opened her car door. If she heard him, she didn’t let on.
“Charlie!” He pumped his arms to jog faster.
Her car door closed. She glanced briefly over her shoulder looking at him square in the eyes and took off out of the parking spot completely ignoring his call. He stood there watching her leave, feeling like an ass.
He wiped a hand over his brow a few times. He really was an ass, and a part of him twisted deep inside at the thought that he’d hurt Charlie. He tried to justify his actions, tried to ignore that it meant anything since she’d hurt him years earlier.
He let out a sigh and returned to the direction he was headed.
She knew it. She knew it. Dammit! She knew it.
Charlie had dropped in to review several mock-ups with Jamie before the store’s opening. She wanted to get in and out, and get back to her home office, but that damn coffee called to her. Coffee should be outlawed.
Hot coffee in hand, she walked to her car and happened to notice Blake. He was hard to miss. He looked sexy as sin. His long legs ate up the blacktop. She may have stared a bit too long because as she watched his ass move she flashed back to cupping that glorious, firm ass the night before.
And then he had to ruin it.
When he spotted her, her heart stopped. She couldn’t see him or talk to him for fear she would start crying all over again. Really, how many tears should one woman shed over a man?
The true saving grace—Blake looked like hell. The bags under his eyes told her his sleep was like hers—crappy.
Good! Served him right.
She’d keep the anger close. Anger concealed the pain of a broken heart. When was he leaving Fort Collins? She didn’t know how much more of this shit she could take.