Page 58 of Their Christmas Miracle

Blake

Blake cast a quick glance over his shoulder and glared at the couch. Fucking traitor. When he turned back, Elle was still staring out the window, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

Well, if he’d ever had any doubts, now he knew. Whatever this was, whatever he’d thought it would be, it wasn’t anymore. He could feel the woman getting ready to leave, preparing herself to tell him that the food was nice. That he was nice. That she had stuff to take care of, like her recent divorce. Actually, since he doubted there had been any paperwork involved yet, it was more like her imminent divorce.

God, he was an idiot. He’d had a lust-fueled breakdown, had almost screwed the woman in his office in exchange for money owed on her car, and had then decided it was better — better! — to drag her to his house instead. A house that screamed ‘single’ and practically yelled ‘desperate’.

He was single, granted, but not desperate. He’d been perfectly fine by himself for the last seven years.

“Thank you for dinner,” Elle said, tearing him from his thoughts.

He turned to her, gave a nod and a small smile. They stared at each for a few seconds. Blake rose, gathering up the empty takeout containers and throwing them in the trash. When he faced Elle, she was walking to the corner of the room where the dryer still tumbled away at her clothes. She spent a few seconds staring at the controls, trying to figure out how to interrupt its cycle.

A few seconds later, Elle was in the bathroom, not having looked in his direction once on her way over. He didn’t have to strain to hear the sound of her putting her clothes back on. They were probably still damp. But putting wet clothes back on was preferred to hanging around with him.

His shoulders slumped. Well, what had he been expecting?

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