Page 27 of Quiet Beautiful Things

Me: I thought YOU were going to buy it for me. What did you say to the guy?

Blake: I simply told him he might be more comfortable if he got out of my sight.

Me: I’m sure you said it just like that.

He lifts a shoulder and cracks a smile.

I have a hard time containing my own burgeoning grin. Blake was protecting me. Despite the rumors I’ve heard about him, his actions toward both Maisy and me paint him as a stand-up guy. I suppose, however, it’s quite possible to be both a player and a good human.

Me: Whatever it was, thank you. I appreciate your help. Can I offer you a glass of water?

“That would be great.”

He tinkers with the TV while I fetch him a drink. The whole time, I find it hard not to peek at him. He’s six-foot-something of muscle and man-sweat. Why that turns me on confuses me. Probably because I’m so used to being surrounded by cerebraltypes. But Blake seems to have a good head on his shoulders too. He’s not just fun to look at.

I hand him the water, showing him the sign for it.

He repeats the sign, then says, “Thanks. I think the TV is okay. Want me to help you program it?”

I turn down his offer with an appreciative smile.

“Okay.” He thumbs to the door. “I’ll just go finish my run.”

When I thank him once again, he winks and says, “My pleasure.”

On his way out, he hesitates when he sees my family pictures on the wall. He studies them for a moment, glances back at me, then leaves.

I sink down onto my couch and sigh, knowing he’s just given me even more to fantasize about.

Chapter Ten

Blake

How do people do this?

I run a hand through my hair and look around my house. It looks like a frat house on Sunday morning. Toys are strewn about the living room, a trail of them leading back to Maisy’s bedroom. Half-eaten snacks lie on the couch and a table. Empty juice boxes litter the floor. A stray shoe sticks out from under the couch. I don’t have the energy to look for its mate.

I pop the top off a bottle of beer and sit at the kitchen bar. She’s one tiny person. I’m one adult. How have we made such a mess of things after only a few days?

Ellie is coming back tomorrow. I should clean so I don’t get chewed out again.

The corners of my mouth twitch into a grin thinking of the reaming I got. The woman’s got spunk, I’ll give her that. And an uncanny ability to invade my thoughts when I’ve been so busy I barely have the strength to think.

Now that I’ve been in her apartment, my imagination goes wild. It smelled of coffee and cinnamon and I just know I’ll be reminded of her whenever I inhale those particular scents. I recall her wall of family photos. Her tasteful furniture among a few random, unpacked boxes. And a stray pair of black high heels on the floor. It’s those heels I can’t get out of my head at the moment. Or more specifically, the image I’ve conjured in my head of her wearing them—andonlythem.

A wayward thought occurs. Who was she wearing them for? Because I sure as shit would have noticed had she been wearing them at my house the other day. I didn’t see any pictures on the wall of what could have been a boyfriend.

Mmm, I grumble at the strange sensation inside me that feels like it could be… jealousy.

I try to banish the beautiful deaf doctor from my thoughts as I glance around the dirty room. Instead of cleaning, though, I slide my laptop across the counter, lift the lid, and continue the on-line ASL class I purchased. It’s how I’ve filled every spare second over the past few days. Which hasn’t been much considering I have a rambunctious four-year-old.

I look toward Maisy’s room thinking how far she’s come in a mere forty-eight hours. When she arrived, we had zero means of communication. Now, at least she can tell me when she’s hungry or thirsty. Sometimes she just goes to the kitchen and gets what she wants—a fact that both saddens and enrages me. Was she left to her own devices? Did Lucinda expect such a young child to fend for herself?

Ah shit. That reminds me. I need to hire a family lawyer. I add it to the growing list of crap that needs to get done.

“Nice to meet you,” I repeat back to the screen as I sign the words.

I straighten when I hear a noise down the hall. I pause the video and listen, but I don’t hear anything, so I turn it back on.

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