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“Am I going to have to clean up like this after every meal?” Mason grumbled, sweeping under the table.
Harper held back a laugh, though she couldn’t seem to stop a grin. “Probably. Children, especially little ones, are definitely not easy on the cleaning bill.” She’d kept her word and stopped by two days after the festival on the pretense of helping him clean the house and work through any other issues he was having. As far as excuses went, it was pathetically flimsy, but even Harper’s career-determined side hadn’t cared. She just wanted to spend more time with the duo who held her heart, even if the feeling wasn’t returned quite the same way.
Mason snorted and bent over to sweep the excess of eggs and other crumbs into the dust pan. “Now I get why you said I need a dog.”
“They do help,” Harper offered. “I had a dog all my growing up years.”
“Why don’t you have one now?” Mason asked, though his attention was still on his work.
Harper tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, wondering how vulnerable to get. They were friends, but not necessarily confidantes. Though, he did share everything with you. This isn’t that big of a deal by comparison.
“I always figured I’d wait until I wasn't single to get a dog,” Harper said. She shrugged and grinned. “Don’t want the pooch to get tired of seeing my face.”
Mason paused, his eyes growing intense for just a split second, before he nodded. “Yeah. I’ll bet pets are easier when there are more people involved.”
“You didn’t ever have a pet?” Harper asked, grateful he hadn’t pressed her single issue, or acted weird that she brought it up. Sometimes guys seemed to have funny ideas about that kind of thing.
Mason shook his head and set the broom and dustpan back in the closet. “No. Mom didn’t want the mess.” He paused. “Huh. I guess Aimee was right.” He snorted. “I was kind of offended when she said I was the most like Mom, but now I’m starting to see it.” He pushed a hand through his hair.
“From what you’ve said, I don’t think you’re like her at all,” Harper argued. “She sounds a little...difficult.” Harper shrugged. “You’re pretty easy to get along with.”
Mason gave her a half grin. “Thanks for that.” He looked around. “Now what?”
“Layla isn’t dressed yet.”
Mason grimaced. “We’ve sort of worked that one out, but it’s ridiculous how long it takes.”
Harper laughed and walked toward the sitting room where Layla was playing with several Tupperware containers. They were the only “toys” that Mason had. “Let’s get this party started.” She took Layla by the hand. “Let’s get dressed. Okay?’
Layla happily tripped along beside Harper toward her bedroom.
“So...” Harper paused. “Her clothes?”
Mason’s cheeks turned red and he pointed to a suitcase.
Nodding, and choosing not to point out the fact that he needed to get her a dresser, Harper rifled through the pile. “Looks like today is laundry day.”
“At the rate she gets dirty, every day might be laundry day,” Mason muttered.
Harper just smiled. He was just as cute when cranky as he was when being sweet, though she’d take that thought to her grave. She pulled out a couple of pants and shirts. This was probably a good time to try and get Layla to speak. Turning, Harper held up two shirts. “Do you want to wear the pink shirt? Or the purple one?”
Layla pushed her hair out of her face and pointed to the pink.
“A pink girl, huh?” Harper helped unzip the pajamas and Layla sat down, kicking her legs. “Whoa, there.” Harper wrestled with the child a little until she was undressed. “Arms up!” Making silly faces, Harper wrangled the shirt onto the small body, snapping the buttons under her diaper. “Now. Pants.” Harper grabbed two pairs. “Do you want the pink ones? Or the yellow ones?” To her surprise, Layla picked the yellow. This was going to be an eyesore. “Awesome. Pink and yellow.”
She turned Layla around, setting the girl on her lap, and Harper helped get the small legs into the openings. “Stand up!” With a final pull, Harped pulled the pants over the diaper. She bit back a smile at the thought of Mason handling potty training sometime during the next year. That’s going to be fun.
“All done!” Harper threw up her hands and clapped.
Layla also clapped, but still didn’t speak.
“How much should a two year old talk?” Mason asked. “And is it just the guy in me, or does her outfit look hideous?”
Harper stood and laughed. “It’s pretty sad. But does it really matter? She picked it out, and wanted to wear it, and who’s she going to see anyway?”
Mason shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “No one, I guess, except me and you.”
“And I think we can handle it,” Harper assured him. “Letting her feel like she’s in control will help her cooperate.”
“So no more tantrums?”
“Oh, there’ll be tantrums. But this at least can lessen some of them.”
“And the talking?” He bent down to pick up Layla, who was holding out her arms to him.
Harper pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. My gut instinct is to give it time. She’s had just as much upheaval as you but isn’t as mature. I’m hoping she shut down because she just lost her mother. But only time will tell.”
Mason went pale. “And if it doesn’t change?”
Harper shrugged. “You need to get her in with a pediatrician anyway. The doctor should have better suggestions.”
Mason nodded. “Thanks. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come to help.”
Harper patted his shoulder as she left the room. “What are friends for?” She was starting to hate that word. Sweet Layla was tugging at Harper’s heartstrings and every time Mason learned how to do something new, it made Harper fall just a little bit more for him. She had only spent a few days with this makeshift family, but Harper already knew that if given the chance, she could love this whole household without even trying.
She rubbed her forehead. It was going to take a miracle for her to walk out of this situation with her heart still intact.
“Bring Layla out here and we’ll see if she’ll play with something,” Harper called. “Then we can talk about the rest of the equipment you’re still missing.”
Heavy footsteps behind her told Harper that Mason was following her directions. Poor guy. He was trying so hard. Why his sister thought she could simply dump a child in his lap and all would go smoothly was something Harper couldn't comprehend.
No one plans to dump a child, her inner voice scolded. There’s no way Aimee ever thought this kind of thing would happen. Layla’s just lucky her mother thought to have a will at all. Otherwise, prickly Granny would be turning the little girl into a perfect little princess and there'd be no pink and yellow outfits at all.
Harper had to give it to the voice in the back of her brain. Sometimes it impressed even her.
“Where can I find a sheet of paper?” Harper asked.
“My desk is in the third bedroom,” Mason offered.
Leaving him with the baby, Harper walked down the hall to retrieve the supplies she needed. Mason would enjoy this part. Lists and structure were right up his alley and Harper knew having something to refer to would help get him back on his feet...without her...and once she got some distance, the pain in her chest would subside...eventually.
*****
MASON LOOKED DOWN AT the list he’d been working with Harper on. It was such a relief to have everything mapped out for him. He was usually comfortable being in charge, but this time, he was so far out of his element that he hadn’t even known where the starting line was. Dresser, books, booster seat...the list was clear and concise and Harper had even helped him know why the equipment was necessary. Geez, kids are expensive. It was a good thing he didn’t live a lavish lifestyle or this would have put him into debt.
He glanced at Harper, who was playing with Layla. She had slid from the couch to the floor and together the females were building with wooden blocks that Harper had brought over. Layla was enjoying pushing them over, giggling at the destruction.
One side of Mason’s mouth pulled up into a grin. His niece was more enjoyable than he thought she would be. Her eyes lit up when she smiled and sometimes, when he wasn’t paying attention, Mason could see stark reminders of Aimee in the child’s behavior. Harper’s idea to give Layla a choice in getting dressed had been brilliant.
Just like his younger sister, Layla didn’t like being told what to do. Having options helped make her much more cooperative. And will hopefully waylay any tantrums, Mason prayed. Harper had assured him they would still happen, but Mason decided he’d keep hoping for a miracle.
“Are we keeping you from your work?” Mason asked, the thought bringing with it a slew of worry. “It just occurred to me that while you’re here, you’re not painting.”
Harper shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I do have a project I’m working on...but I’ve kind of been stumped with it anyway. Helping a friend has been a nice break.”
Friend. More and more, that was starting to become a curse word in Mason’s vocabulary. He didn’t want Harper to just be his friend. Even during the last few days, his attraction to her had shifted from she’s really nice and pretty and would make a great girlfriend to I’m not sure what I’m going to do when she’s not in my life anymore.
You’re still adjusting, he reminded himself, using Harper’s words. Once you get settled into a good routine with Layla, life will be easier, and then it won’t matter that Harper’s not here.
The words made his stomach churn. Mason wasn’t fooling himself at all. He didn’t want to do this alone, but he couldn’t imagine trying to navigate a new relationship with two girls at once. No woman should have to play second fiddle and that’s exactly what Harper would be. Their time together would revolve around a child and Mason’s attention would be split and their alone time almost nonexistent. He was still trying to get to know Layla, let alone how to handle being a father.
And maybe that was part of the problem. Mason hadn’t known that Layla existed. He didn’t see her as a newborn. He didn’t hold her and hear from Aimee about her likes and dislikes. He was starting completely from ground zero...on everything.
And Harper deserves to be treated like the only woman in the room. Not the one I turn to when I have a couple of minutes during naptime.
Mason sighed and slumped a little deeper into his seat. His life was such a mess.
“I think maybe it’s time for lunch and a nap,” Harper announced, climbing to her feet.
Mason blinked and looked at his phone. He’d obviously been lost in his thoughts for a while. “Wow. Time flies.”
Harper smirked. “Especially when you’re napping.” She picked up Layla.
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
She chuckled. “You were snoring, Mason.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Really? I thought I was just lost in thought.”
Harper shook her head. “Nope. But that’s alright. It gave Layla and me a chance to get to know each other a bit.” She looked down at the little girl on her hip. “Who wants peanut butter and jelly?”
Layla scrunched her nose.
“She obviously understands us,” Mason said.
Harper looked thoughtful. “She does, but I haven’t figured out yet why she’s not repeating everything she hears.” Harper turned to Layla and rubbed noses with her. “Can you say lunch?”
Layla laughed and the sound did odd things to Mason’s stomach. Slowly, but surely, he was positive the little stinker was worming her way into his heart. Mason had taken her on out of a sense of duty and to fulfill his sister’s dying wish, but somehow, the organ in the middle of his chest was starting to get involved.
He had to be getting soft because he felt as if it were the same struggles he was having with Harper. His heart wanted her, but his brain said to handle things more rationally. Layla needed Mason to be a protector and guardian, not a softie who let his overactive feelings run the show.
Logic had gotten him far in life and Mason knew he couldn't abandon it if he wanted to be able to handle the many years of parenthood ahead of him.
An hour later, they were cleaning up peanut butter sandwiches, which Harper had somehow convinced Layla to eat, and suddenly it was nap time.
“So...I just put her down?” Mason whispered, Layla tucked tightly into his chest. “I’ve been trying, but she cries and doesn’t sleep well.”
“You don’t have to whisper,” Harper said, but nodded. “Yeah. Just like the other night. Let her know it’s naptime, put her down, tuck her in. You can sing her a little song, or read a book, you know...create a pattern.”
Mason felt the blood drain from his head. “I have to sing to her?” he asked hoarsely. He hadn’t considered that. He’d been doing his best to follow the schedule she had given him, but naptime was still a fight. Harper showing up to help today was an answer to prayer.
Harper’s twitching lips told him just how much she was enjoying his discomfort. “You don’t have to sing. But kids enjoy it.” She leaned in. “And Layla won’t care what your voice is like or how off key you are. They just like music.”
Mason swallowed hard and nodded. He was a grown man. He could handle this. He marched down the hallway, knowing he probably looked like he was going to the guillotine, but unable to help it. “Okay, Layla. It’s naptime.” He stopped at the edge of the crib when she started to squirm. “Naptime? You ready for naptime?”
Layla shook her head and Mason looked for Harper.
“Give her her blanket,” she said softly. “Like you did before.”
Mason grabbed the soft piece of fabric and tucked it over Layla’s shoulder, then laid her down. Layla immediately jumped to her feet and held up her arms, starting to cry.
The tears bit at Mason’s resolve. He hated it when she cried. She was so tiny. They had to be doing it wrong. He started to reach for her, but Harper hissed at him and Mason pulled his arms back, feeling like a little boy caught at the cookie jar. “She’s crying,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious.
“She’s going to cry,” Harper explained. “You just need to stay in charge. If you give in every time she cries, you’ll be back to chaos in no time.” Harper raised an eyebrow. “A two year old isn’t a good boss.”
Mason scrubbed his face, trying to ignore the sounds coming from the little girl. “Then what do I do?”
“Read or sing,” Harper pressed. “Give her clear boundaries. Then tuck her in and leave.”
Mason groaned. He didn’t have any books yet. He’d have to sing instead. Crap. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember one of the little ditties most kids knew from their childhood, but he wasn’t feeling very confident “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” was going to help him out. Singing it twice, he put Layla down again and tucked in her blanket, then walked toward the door.
He closed his eyes once in the hall, hearing her sniffle and whine. He hated it. How did parents do it? How could he handle this day in and day out? Warm fingers touched his cheek, and Mason’s eyes snapped open.
Harper was there, looking at him with sympathy. “That was great. Give her a few minutes and she’ll quiet down. The first few times will be rough, but sticking to your guns will give you both some sanity.”
Mason nodded, and his eyes dropped to her lips. She was so close. So...close... He could smell the fruity scent of her shampoo and the warmth of her body was starting to permeate his shirt.
As if realizing she was in his bubble, Harper pulled back, ducking her head and putting space between them.
Mason wasn’t sure what came over him, but he couldn’t let her create that space. Reaching out, his hands grabbed her hips, stopping her. Harper’s beautiful eyes widened and she looked up at him...questioning...begging...
Mason was positive he hadn’t made the conscious choice to kiss her until after his lips brushed hers. But the jolt of the touch brought every nerve ending to full alert, causing him not to care how it began. All he knew was he wanted more. One little peck wasn’t enough. Harper’s breathing was shallow and erratic, but she didn’t pull away and Mason decided that was as good as any “yes”. He slowly lowered his head, bringing their mouths together for longer.
Heaven help me...
Harper was an angel. She fit perfectly into his arms and their mouths fit perfectly together. Why, oh why did life have to be so cruel as to not only take Mason’s sister, but to take away his chances for having this woman in his life?
He should have let her go. Should have stepped back instead of continuing something that couldn’t last, but instead he found himself tightening his hold. If he couldn’t have her for a lifetime, at least he could have her for a moment. And despite how much it would hurt later, it would have to be enough.