Bianca closed the door behind him and turned, gasping softly when she realized how close he stood.
"I'm so sorry, Bianca," Ken said, his voice low and filled with regret. "I never should've let Imelda talk to you that way. I should've insisted she stop immediately instead of waiting for a chance to speak."
His hands gently rested on her shoulders, warm and grounding. Bianca froze, torn between wanting to pull away and letting the moment linger. Her heart raced at the intensity of his presence.
"Ken..." she began cautiously, "did you know she was coming?"
"No," he admitted, his tone heavy with frustration. "I had no idea. She was supposed to be in Paris for another week. To be honest, I thought she'd forgotten my birthday entirely."
Bianca looked down, biting her lip. "She made me feel invisible."
Ken's grip tightened slightly, not in a harsh way but as if anchoring her. "I told her it was completely unacceptable, right after I put the boys to bed."
At that, Bianca couldn't help but smile a little. "Oh? Aunt Imelda didn't want to do it?"
Ken chuckled, a soft, tired sound that made her chest tighten. "She struggles with them. I decided to save us all an hour or two and handle it myself."
Bianca met his gaze, her resolve weakening as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. His hands slipped from her shoulders, leaving behind a trail of warmth that made her shiver.
"Ken, I forgive you," she said finally. "You make it hard to stay mad at you."
"Good," he said with a small grin, though the tension in his posture didn't fully fade.
Bianca frowned. "It's not the same as an apology from her, though. Why isn't Imelda here, talking to me herself? Is she too good to apologize to 'the help'?"
Ken sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I told her to go home. I just... I just wanted to salvage what was left of my birthday. Everything had been so perfect until she got here."
He closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders sagging slightly. "I just got these knots out, and they're already back," he muttered, rubbing his neck again.
Without thinking, Bianca stepped closer and offered, "Maybe I can help with that."
Before he could protest, she moved behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her fingers pressed into the tight muscles, and Ken let out a deep groan of relief. The sound sent an unexpected thrill through her.
"Bianca," he murmured, his voice muffled as he leaned forward slightly, "you don't have to—"
"Not as far as these knots are concerned," she quipped, grinning. Her hands worked over his shoulders and neck, each knot slowly melting away under her touch.
Ken moaned softly, and Bianca felt a shiver travel down her spine.
"Tell me where it hurts," she whispered near his ear, her voice lower than she intended.
"A little higher… almost—ohhh," he sighed as her fingers found the right spot.
"You should take off your shirt," she said without thinking, her tone more casual than the request warranted.
Ken froze for a moment before turning to face her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he began unbuttoning his shirt. Bianca's breath hitched as he shrugged it off, revealing his toned chest and broad shoulders.
Her hands hovered for a second before she resumed, this time working her way down his back. She traced the lines of his muscles, her fingertips grazing the curve of his waist.
"Is this okay?" she asked softly.
"Bianca," he whispered, her name sounding like a plea.
She stepped around to face him, her fingers brushing his jawline. Their eyes locked, the air between them charged with something unspoken.
"So... when do I get my massage?" he teased, his voice thick with an edge of humor.
Her lips parted, ready to reply, but then a voice shattered the moment.
"Dad? Can I have my nightlight tonight?" Jason's shout carried through the hallway, startling them both.
Bianca pulled back, her face heating. Ken hesitated, his gaze lingering on hers before he turned toward the door. He grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on.
"I'll be right there, buddy!" he called out, his voice steadier than she expected.
He turned back to her, his expression softening. "Bianca..."
"It's okay," she said quickly, stepping away to give him space. "Go."
Ken nodded, giving her one last lingering look before leaving the room.
---
The next morning, Bianca entered the kitchen, still half-asleep. She froze in the doorway when she saw Imelda standing by the oven, wearing an outfit straight out of a fashion magazine. Her cream-colored blouse and pencil skirt hugged her figure perfectly, and the expensive diamond earrings she wore seemed completely out of place for breakfast.
"Imelda! I didn't hear you come in," Bianca said, forcing a polite smile. "If you're looking for Ken, I think he already left for work."
Imelda turned, flashing a bright, insincere smile. "Actually, I'm here for the twins. I hope you like goat cheese because I'm making everyone breakfast quiches with cauliflower crusts."
Bianca's stomach churned at the smell wafting from the oven. "Yum," she said weakly, trying not to grimace.
Jason and Mason shuffled into the kitchen, both rubbing their eyes.
"What's that smell?" Mason asked, wrinkling his nose.
"I think it's coming from her," Jason whispered, loud enough for Bianca to hear.
Imelda ignored their reactions, her grin widening. "Good morning, boys! I'm taking you two out for some stepmommy-twins bonding time today! But first, we'll have a nutritious homemade breakfast."
Bianca glanced at the trash can and spotted a cardboard box labeled "Frozen Quiches." She bit back a laugh.
"And don't think I forgot about you, Bianca," Imelda added, her tone overly sweet. "You get to spend the day helping Robert plan the engagement party."
Bianca's smile froze. "The engagement party?"
"Yes! It's going to be a grand event. Ken and I are finally announcing our engagement officially to the world. And of course, we'll need you to make sure everything is perfect."
Jason frowned. "Is that the thing Dad was telling us about the other night?"
Mason sighed. "Yeah. Aunt Imelda won't be just our aunt anymore."
"That's exactly right, boys!" Imelda chirped. She glanced at Bianca, her tone turning firm. "And as for you, I trust you'll handle everything without a hitch."
Bianca hesitated. "Let me think about it... Ken approved this, right? He's technically my boss, so I just want to be sure."
"Of course," Imelda said breezily, waving a hand. "Ken totally backs me on this."
Bianca glanced at the twins, who were clearly unimpressed with the situation, before nodding reluctantly.
The oven dinged, and Imelda hurried to pull out the quiches. She turned back to the boys, beaming.
"Let's dig in and get dressed for the best day ever!"
"Yay," Mason muttered, his tone flat.
Bianca sighed, already dreading what the rest of the day would bring.