Page 35 of Christmas with the Baby Daddy

I clamped my hand on his shoulder, digging my fingers in to pry him back. As he moved, I wedged between him and Blake, acting as though I’d had to reach this way over the table to get a little salad plate.

He glared up at me for intervening, but I didn’t give a shit.

Try again, fucker. And see what happens.

Blake scurried back to the kitchen, and when I found her there, following her as soon as she stepped away from Rory’s table, I watched as her practiced, polite, public smile fell into a natural scowl. “God, he’s such a creep.”

“That won’t happen again,” I told her.

She shot me a skeptical look. “No?”

“You heard my grandma.” I stepped up close and looked down into her vulnerable emerald gaze. “She told me to shadow you. If I see him do so much as make you frown, I’ll make him knock it off.”

So many questions lingered. Why she’d dated him in the first place? How they’d gotten together or how long they were a couple? What it took to make her dump him? But all of those details would have to be discussed later. Because against my better judgment, I was vested. I was concerned.

I’d been missing something like a direction in my life, but now I had an inkling of one. However I could help Blake be comfortable and not harassed, I would step up to the challenge. That could be my purpose tonight.

Rory didn’t try anything until later in the party. More guests were dancing than eating the remnants of their meals or desserts, but there were still so many plates to take back to the kitchen. I lost sight of Blake for a moment, stacking up more dishes on a tray, but on the trip to the kitchen, I spotted Rory caging her in against the wall. She squirmed, shoving at his chest to push him back as he talked to her.

“You can quit this stupid little job and just live with me?—”

I yanked him back. “This isn’t a stupid little job.” I set him back another foot. “And it doesn’t look like she wants to be in the same room with you, let alone live with you.”

He growled, straightening out his sleeves. “Who the fuck do you think you are, telling me what?—”

I got into his face, glaring down at the loudmouth. “Iamtelling you to back off. That’s all that matters.”

“Oh, or else? Huh? You warning me?” He scoffed, smirking like I was a fool to stand up to him or stand up for her.

“Yeah.” I lowered to grip the front of his shirt. “Or else,” I growled.

Blake tugged at the back of my shirt, urging me to retreat with her. I did, certain that the scared but angry expression Rory wore meant he’d heard me loud and clear.

“You can’t just…” Blake shook her head.

“Too bad. I did. Fuck him for making you uncomfortable like that.”

She barked a weak but instant laugh. “Oh, so I should tell Reagan off for making you uncomfortable too? Groping your ass like that!”

I shrugged. I had no problem telling Reagan no. But I was amused that she’d offer tit-for-tat like that and want to have my back.

We shifted into a cleanup mode as the party wound down, and as more guests left, some of the catering staff did too. Leo, another catering employee, headed up the cleanup and my grandma left. Without the music on and with the hall emptying out, Blake and I finally had some quiet to talk as we worked.

“Thanks, though.” She cleared her throat, like she’d been rehearsing how to stay this and bottling it in for a while. “Thanks for standing up for me like that with him. I’ve never liked confrontations?—”

“I remember,” I teased.

She nodded, smiling shyly. “But with Rory, I need to have a firmer stance with him.”

“You’re not interested in him?”

“No. I don’t think I ever really was in the beginning. He was just so persistent. And I was worried I was making too many excuses to never date. I hadn’t since George was born, and I didn’t really care to go through the dating ordeal.” She shrugged, piling plates in the kitchen. “But I thought I was being too reluctant and agreed to one date with him. That turned into a few more, and then a five-month-long ‘relationship’ started.”

“What made you break up with him?”

“He was just too pushy. George hates him. Okay,hateis a strong word, but I could tell he didn’t like him or wouldn’t warm up to him. He was a big part of why I didn’t date for the first four years of his life. I was a mother. He was my priority. I didn’t have time or energy or the desire to look for a man, but I knew that if and when I would, I’d need to find someone I liked and who my son would like.”

“That makes sense.”

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