Hometown Valentine

She let out a shaky breath, feeling torn. He was in a bind. She needed the money, and working for him for a bit would ease the job hunting pressure for a while. Would it really be smart to refuse a paying job?

Probably not.

Lily tapped a finger on her knee. Helping Blake was the right thing to do all around. She couldn’t turn him down. She didn’t have the heart to say no when he desperately needed her help, even though doing so felt like a distinct threat to her at the moment.

Bubbles of anxiety churned around inside of her like a rough ocean, setting her nerves on a jagged edge. She’d definitely have to find a way to work for Blake while keeping him at a safe distance.

She’d worked too hard, dreamed of being on Project Fashion for too long, to let anything derail her dreams now.

Chapter Three (#ulink_8d7f702d-dfe0-50ed-ac89-281d84d1f0b8)

Lily pulled into Blake’s driveway, her gaze roaming over the cute little 1940s house on Fogcutter Street, just east of downtown. His single-story home featured white paint, dark blue shutters flanking the windows and a wide front porch that was bare at the moment but would be a perfect place for a glider or swing.

The large lot had plenty of grass, lovely southern exposure and a picket fence running across the front yard. An ugly gray one that leaned to one side and had a few slats missing, but a picket fence nonetheless. The yard was a bit overgrown and neglected looking right now; clearly Blake didn’t have much time for gardening.

Little wonder, with everything he had going on.

Even so, it was a perfect house, replete with just the right amount of charm and old-fashioned flavor she loved so much.

Not that she’d ever live here. But the designer in her could see the potential and she could admire from afar.

She parked next to his compact car and sat for a moment, getting her nerves under control. She reiterated that she’d done the right thing by agreeing to babysit Peyton, both for Blake and for herself. She had to quit letting the prospect of working for him get to her. She was determined to contain her attraction and focus on Peyton. She could do this while remaining detached.

Taking a revitalizing breath, she climbed out of her car and hurried to the door, dodging raindrops. Even before she stood in front of the red wooden door, she could hear Peyton crying inside. Oh, boy. Blake had clearly been having a rough time.

She raised her hand to knock, but before she could, the door swung open.

A harried-looking Blake stood there with a screaming Peyton hoisted up over one shoulder. His hair was mussed and he had dark circles under his eyes. His jeans and T-shirt looked as if he’d slept—or perhaps not?—in them. He’d been through the wringer.

But he was still gorgeous. Of course. Maybe she’d been wishing he’d turn unattractive overnight? Not happening. Ever. She had to deal with it.

“Hey,” he said with a definitely weary edge to his voice. “Come on in.”

Lily stepped inside, determined to focus on the practical aspects of the situation. She made quick note of the living room, which was comprised of a tan microfiber love seat and sofa, dark wooden accent furniture and a large big-screen TV set at an angle in one corner. Nice, but bland. Very clean. But perfectly impersonal.

And...wow, there were vacuum marks in the carpet, as if he’d just vacuumed one minute ago. How odd. In her book, vacuuming would fall to just about last on the list if she were taking care of a fussy baby solo.

She turned her attention to Peyton. “She sounds like she doesn’t feel very well.”

“No, she doesn’t.” As he spoke, he shifted Peyton so she was lying down in his arms. Without missing a beat, he started the swing, swing, swing technique Lily had shown him a couple of days ago.

“Look at you,” she said, putting her purse on the couch that sat just to the left of the front door. “You’re a pro.”

He gave her a tired look edged in desperation. “Not really. I swung her like this all night long, and she still didn’t sleep much.” He yawned. “And neither did I.”

Lily held her hands up. “You want me to try?”

“Definitely,” he said, coming closer. “Here you go.”

He bent down slightly so the baby was at Lily’s level, and a whiff of his woodsy, masculine-smelling aftershave wafted through the air, right to her nose. It was all she could do to hold out her hands steadily as he transferred Peyton to her.

His arms touched Lily’s and she felt her knees tremble and her tummy somersaulted. She steeled herself and took the baby, keeping her in a prone position, trying to ignore Blake, which was about as easy as trying to ignore breathing.

“I’ve got her,” Lily managed, but her voice came out breathily. She zeroed in on Peyton’s red face, and then as soon as was practically possible Lily scooted away into the safety zone.

Able to breathe again, Lily started the swing, concentrating on Peyton rather than her wonderful-smelling uncle. She walked over to the big picture window that looked out over the front yard and did her baby calming there, moving in a small circle.

Hold the baby close. Swing, swing, swing.

Ignore the attractive man across the room.

Rinse. Repeat.

After a few circles, Peyton’s cries quieted. Lily kept it up and added a little extra flare at the end of each swing to further soothe Peyton. Her brother Liam always liked that motion.

From the corner of her eye, Lily saw Blake watching her intently, his hands on his hips. She tried to ignore him, but that proved impossible. Suddenly self-conscious, she went against her instincts and met his gaze.

His blue eyes grabbed on to her gaze.

“What are you doing?” she said in a loud whisper.

“I’m watching.”

She froze and a tingle ran up her spine. “Watching?”

“Your technique,” he said quietly. “Clearly you have some kind of magic way of soothing her. I’m watching and learning.”

“Oh. Of course.” She swallowed. So he was learning. It still unnerved her to have his gaze glued to her. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

He ran a hand over his face. “I hope so. This no-sleeping thing is going to catch up with me any day now.” Blinking, he shook his head. “Maybe it already has.”

“Good thing you have an unlimited supply of caffeine waiting for you at work,” Lily said, looking for levity. Anything to counterbalance the off-balance way his scrutiny made her feel.

He smiled. “Yeah, I never thought of that.”

“Well, there you go.” She looked down at Peyton. “She’s almost asleep. Where do you want her?”

He crooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Follow me.”

He headed down the hall to the right and Lily followed, keeping her steps fluid and smooth in the interest of keeping Peyton asleep. They passed two bedrooms and then, at the end of the hall, he went into the third one.

Lily stepped into the room. Gray morning light spilled in from the large window on the wall directly across from the door. The walls were plain white and devoid of any decorations. An oak crib with pink bumpers sat against one wall and there was a changing table nearby and a matching dresser, too, upon which sat a baby monitor. A bentwood rocker graced the near corner of the room. Two baskets of neatly folded laundry sat in front of the closet.

Blake went to the crib and pulled the fuzzy pink blankets back, looking Lily’s way. She got the message and moved in and gingerly lifted Peyton into the crib and laid her down on her back. As Lily withdrew her arms, she held her breath in hopes the baby would sleep on even though she wasn’t held snugly in Lily’s arms.

After a moment, Peyton let out a little whimper, stiffening and flailing a little hand in the air. Lily froze and she saw Blake do the same. But then the baby settled, and finally she slept, her little bow mouth working as she drifted off.

Lily looked at Blake, nodding. She mouthed, “She’s asleep.”