Page 95 of Quiet Beautiful Things

“Maisy is yours,” I sign. “She’ll live here with you forever.” I teach him the signs and watch his reality sink in even more as he does them back to me.

“The grandparents?” I sign.

Blake: They didn’t want anything to do with her before. I’m not sure they would now. Besides, no judge would hand over custody from a loving father to people who left her with a stranger to go on a world cruise.

His head slumps and his hands scrub across his face. Finally he looks up. “She’s mine,” he says, glancing back at the bedroom where his daughter is napping after a long day at the park. “She’s all mine.”

Me: I’ll reach out to our school psychologist. He knows Maisy. But in my opinion, I’d leave well enough alone. Lucinda said itherself, Maisy had a better relationship with the maid. Trying to explain to Maisy that Lucinda is her mother but she’s dying and that’s the last time she’ll see her—it could do more damage and potentially cause setbacks.

“My thoughts exactly,” he signs. “But I figured I was just being selfish.” He fingerspellsselfishand I show him the sign.

Me: Blake, you are the most selfless man I’ve ever met.

He looks up, a smile finally crossing his face. He grabs the back of my knee, urging me closer. I’ve no choice but to sit on his lap or fall over the edge of the couch. He swipes a piece of hair behind my ear. “You are the most beautiful woman.”

He got the ‘most’ sign wrong, but with the way he’s looking into my eyes, now is not the time for a lesson.

“What time did Maisy go to sleep?”

“Twenty minutes.”

His smile widens. “We have at least an hour then. Stay?”

I feel his erection beneath me as I contemplate his invitation.

“Stay, Ellie,” he signs, with as much emotion on his face as I’ve ever seen.

I don’t answer. Or maybe I do. My lips lower to meet his. As we kiss, a thousand things go through my head. How I wasn’t lying, he’s the most selfless man I’ve ever met, right up there with my father.

There are so many things about this man that I’m drawn to. Almost all of them have to do with his daughter. His resilience. His ability to adapt. His larger-than-life heart. Not to mention his smile, and… well, other parts of his anatomy.

I pull away. I can’t fall in love with a man who goes through women like frat boys through beer.

Even if I could put aside all the stories, rumors, and flat-out facts I’ve heard about him. Even if he has miraculously changed because he’s now responsible for another human. I have to see this for what it is.

My phone vibrates for the third time. I hold it up, using it as the excuse I need to roll off his lap.

Brooke: I was wondering if you’d like to meet for dinner. I can pack up something from the cafeteria and we could meet in the park.

Blake taps my shoulder. “Is that the same lady as before?”

I momentarily panic and try to remember what I told him when he caught her texting me last time. This is exactly why I hate lying to people. In my experience, secrets never stay secrets for long. Someone always makes a mistake. In this case, I hope it won’t be me.

I hesitate long enough that he answers his own question. “She’s a client, right?”

I nod.

He shuffles off the couch, then leans down, caging me against the backrest with his arms. “As long as you aren’t accepting dinner invitations from male clients.”

He stares at me long and hard as if to punctuate his point.

I raise my eyebrows at his possessiveness. Then I grin and shake my head.

“Good. Because the only man I want you having dinner with is me.”

The intensity of his stare makes me wonder if he wants more. They say eyes are windows to the soul, and right now, his are likely revealing much more than he wants me to know.

He thumbs to the back, breaking the moment. “I should check on Maisy.”

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