| |
Harper raced around her small home trying to make sure there was nothing on the floor that Layla might try to grab, break or simply put into her mouth. The child still seemed to be at the age where she tasted everything. Everything!
Today was Sunday and Harper was glad for the day off. After working another exhibition yesterday, she was eager for a chance to relax. And keep ignoring my nonexistent painting.
“Poor Mason has it rougher,” she reminded herself. He dealt with the toddler after work, while Harper got a break. It was easy to see why single parenting was so difficult now that she was watching Mason go through it.
The doorbell rang and Harper’s heart skipped a beat. She took a moment to collect herself. This was the first time they would be together...together. Yes, Layla would be there, but after that kiss a couple of days ago, their relationship had completely shifted and Harper found she had never been happier. Even with the deadline looming, her days were simply...better. Even with dirty diapers, sticky fingers and almost no alone time, she felt more fulfilled than the day she sold her first painting and realized she was now considered professional.
Harper adored little Layla and her feelings for Mason were stronger than ever. Their dating story might be full of interruptions and difficulties, but she was just grateful they were going to have a story at all.
Harper pulled open the front door. “Hey.” Talk about the lamest greeting in the history of greetings. Harper wanted to palm her forehead. What was she? Some sixteen year old kid?
Mason grinned, Layla laying against his shoulder. “Hey.”
Why did it sound so much better when he said it? Mason sounded sexy, Harper sounded like an idiot. “Come on in.” She pulled the door open farther and closed it behind them. “Wow.” Harper smiled. “You look like a full fledged dad.”
Mason was sporting a diaper bag, which was so full of stuff he couldn’t zip it, plus another bag that contained more supplies and, of course, a baby in his arms.
Mason’s cheekbones turned pink. “I’m learning.”
She leaned in slightly. “I think you’re succeeding.”
Mason bent down and left a quick kiss on her forehead. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He straightened with a frown. “I feel like I’m always saying thank you to you.”
Harper laughed softly and took Layla, who was about to fall out of Mason’s arms in her attempt to get to Harper. “I’m just grateful you didn’t kick me out when I came bursting in with unwanted help.”
“I didn’t realize I needed it,” Mason admitted, unloading his gear like a pack mule. “Now I know better.”
Pleasure swirled through Harper’s chest. She’d been so consumed in helping that she hadn’t realized how bold she’d been during the beginning few days of their dealing with the baby. “Have you two eaten breakfast yet?”
Layla bounced and kicked.
Mason scratched his beard, smiling sadly while he shook his head. “I’m starting to think I should make that doctor’s appointment.”
Harper nodded. “Yeah...if she doesn’t start saying things soon, I think that’s a good idea.” She shrugged. “I mean, you’ll need a pediatrician anyway, but I keep hoping she’ll adjust and start speaking.”
The mood had gone from amused to somber and Harper once again felt dumb. What else could she mess up?
“Breakfast,” Harper said decidedly. Walking forward, she led the way to the kitchen. Pancake batter sat next to a griddle, all ready to go.
“I don’t think I’m the only one who plans things well in advance,” Mason teased.
Harper smiled sheepishly. “Guilty.”
He walked to the griddle. “Want me to take care of this since you’re holding Layla?”
“You make pancakes?”
Mason winked at her. “I used to be able to flip them in a pan when I was younger.” His face fell a little. “Aimee loved it.”
“Let me grab a pan,” Harper hurried to say. “I’ll bet Layla will follow right along in her mother’s footsteps.” She found what she wanted and held it out to him, but instead of just taking the dish, he held onto her hand.
“Thanks,” he said softly. “But I haven’t done it in ages. What if I make a mess?”
Harper shrugged. “We’ll clean it up.”
He looked around, his smile relaxing as he stepped away from the sadness of his sister. “I don’t see a dog.”
Harper laughed and set down Layla, who was squirming. “Not yet. Maybe someday.”
Mason’s eyes were smoldering as he replied, “Right. Maybe someday.”
Harper had to turn away. The words felt like a promise and she liked it a little too much. “Layla!” The little girl was in the process of climbing onto the table, having already conquered the chair. “Good grief,” Harper said, grabbing the toddler.
“You haven’t been over in a couple of days,” Mason said as he began heating up the pan. “I’ve had to kid-proof the entire house.” He paused long enough to give her a significant look. “And that includes making it climbing proof.”
Harper’s smile widened. “What did you do?”
“For one thing, the chairs are all up on the table.”
A bark of laughter broke free and Harper shook her head. “That’s original.”
“Actually, that’s YouTube,” Mason said with a snort. “I found a video about it.” He shrugged. “Who knew? Parenting according to social media.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you could find all sorts of things about parenting on social media,” Harper retorted. “And very little of it will be useful.”
“Are you trying to make sure you keep your job?”
Harper loved this back and forth. The teasing, the light heartedness. It was exactly what she had always imagined when she fell for a guy. “Maybe. After all, who would I be if I wasn’t the baby saver?”
“Oh, I don’t know...” Mason tilted his head as if truly having to concentrate. “A beautiful artist?”
Heat began to climb Harper’s neck.
“A pretty neighbor?”
She shook her head at him.
“Or what about just a stunning woman?”
Mason had turned around now and was facing Harper with that intent look in his eye again. Oh, how she wanted to kiss him. She had every confidence it would actually be even better than their first. But with Layla bouncing on her lap, Harper finally understood his initial hesitations. A baby made a huge difference in how a relationship progressed.
But Harper wanted this. She wanted them. And she wasn’t willing to give up quite so easily despite the struggles in her career. Naptime would come soon enough.
*****
MASON HAD BROUGHT HIS computer with him in order to get through a few emails while Layla took a nap this afternoon, but right now he couldn’t even begin to think about work. The welcoming look in Harper’s eyes said she absolutely understood what he wanted and felt the same way.
His hands twitched, aching to hold her and kiss her and cherish her all the ways he wanted to. How he had ever thought he would be able to stay away was a mystery. At every turn, Harper was there. Building him up, helping him through things, and proving she was the perfect person to have in his life no matter how crazy it was.
“Your pan is starting to smoke,” Harper said softly, her lips twitching.
Mason spun, and sure enough, it was getting too hot. “Hang on.” He took it to the sink and winced at the sizzle and steam when he stuck the pan under the cool water. Carefully, he patted it dry and put it back on the stove. “Okay.” He held a hand over it. “Should be ready in just a minute.” He forced himself to hold still when Harper came up on his left, Layla on her hip.
“I have to say, I never would have expected you to be such a pancake expert.”
He smirked. “I was kind of a big kid...”
“Let me guess. You were hungry all the time and those sugary carbs were the best way to satiate you.”
He tilted his head from side to side. “I can’t say I ever thought of it that way, but yeah.” He pulled his shoulders up. “I just like pancakes.”
“Not waffles?”
“I eat waffles.”
Harper laughed. “Is there anything you don’t eat?”
Mason poured some batter into the pan while he considered the question. “Um...I don’t like oysters. Tried one on the half shell when I first moved here and decided then and there it was never happening again.”
Harper pinched her lips between her teeth, but her smile still broke through. “My mom used to call those expensive snot balls.”
Mason chuckled. “It’s a good word for them.”
She pointed to the pan. “Is it ready?”
Mason took in the amount of bubbles and the edges of the pancake. “Okay. Yep. Back up.”
Harper followed his directions. “Watch, Layla. Uncle Mason is gonna show you a trick.”
Even in his periphery, Mason could see what a beautiful picture the two of them made. One dark, one light. Their faces cuddled close together. It was a good thing his life was never going to be the same, because he was never going to be the same.
His brother had once described Mason as an ultra big teddy bear, and now Mason understood what he meant. He was a big guy, but he had led an orderly, exacting life. Even in his search for Aimee, it had all been organized carefully. Now, however, other than the schedule Harper helped him with, Mason’s days were all over the place. He’d been completely honest on their walk the other day when he’d told Harper his life had taken a one-eighty. But he wasn’t exactly regretting the view.
He gripped the handle of the pan, sending a prayer heavenward that he wouldn’t stick the pancake to the ceiling or something. “Here goes.” Pulling on rote memory, he clenched his jaw and gave the pan an upward jerk.
“Oh my gosh!” Harper said with a laugh. “You did it!” She turned to Layla, clapping her hands. “Yay! Yay for Uncle Mason!”
Layla grinned, still sucking on those two favorite fingers of hers.
Mason made a face and rubbed his heated neck. “I sort of made it.” The pancake was half in and half out of the pan. He quickly grabbed the spatula and did his best to fix it, but the poor thing was permanently scarred. It’ll still taste the same.
“It was great,” Harper reassured him. “I’d have missed the plan completely. Plus, the pancake won’t taste any different, so we’re all good.”
Having his own thoughts parroted back at him had Mason once again wanting to kiss the daylights out of his pretty artist. Naptime couldn’t come fast enough.
They shared a smile-filled breakfast and then worked together to get things cleaned up.
“Syrup and toddlers,” Harper moaned. “Who knew?”
“I’m surprised you didn’t,” Mason quipped. “You seem to know everything.”
“I didn’t deal with breakfast when I was babysitting. It was usually dinner, but I still should have known better.”
He nodded. “That makes sense.” He straightened from wiping down the sticky table. “You must have babysat a lot.”
Harper nodded. “I had an afternoon nannying job during the summer. It got me out of the house and usually left me with a lot of time for daydreaming.” She smiled, but made a face. “I wouldn’t have been a good employee at a place where I had to be ultra focused all the time. But when I took the kids to the park, or they were napping or playing games...it allowed my mind to wander.”
“And what did it wander to?” Mason was fascinated. Despite her talk about daydreams and lack of focus, Harper was a hardworking, well-educated woman. He was struggling to see her as the artistic dreamer she liked to portray.
“Painting,” Harper replied automatically. “Brushes and color and anything else that caught my fancy.”
“When did you first know that painting was going to be your career?”
Harper frowned. “Um...I don’t really know. It just was always there.” She laughed and set Layla down on the floor, drying her hands with the towel. “I have pictures of me painting as a tiny little girl. Layla’s age.”
“So your mom was into painting?”
Harper shook her head. “No. But she indulged me when I was little. As I got older, I had to fight for what I wanted.”
Mason huffed. “Interesting.”
Harper shrugged it off. “My mom is a nice woman, but she has expectations that I don’t necessarily follow.”
Mason nodded. “I hear that. I think this thing with Layla is definitely going to put a wedge in my relationship with my parents.”
“Speaking of...” Harper put her hand on her hip. “Have you heard from them since getting home? You said your mom was talking about fighting the will.”
Mason grumbled. “She’s still talking about it, but I guess my dad is trying to convince her to leave it alone.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure why she cares.” He pushed a hand through his hair and watched Layla walk around, examining the kitchen.
“Her estranged daughter had a daughter,” Harper said. “I can see how that would be painful. And then...after finding out Layla existed, your mom wasn’t chosen as guardian?” Harper whistled low. “Any woman who enjoys control would be livid. Li-vid.”
Mason couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Livid, huh?”
Harper made a face and nodded. “My mom enjoys control as well, though from your stories your mom might be a bit...more heavy handed.”
“I’m seeing it more and more,” Mason muttered. He didn’t want to keep talking about this. He was at Harper’s house on a beautiful Sunday in order to spend some quality time together. His mother was not the kind of conversation he was interested in. “Want to go for a walk?” he asked, craning his neck to look out the window. “It’s sunny again and I don’t think the wind is too bad either.”
Harper followed his gaze. “Another walk sounds great. Did you bring the stroller?”
Mason gave her a triumphant look. “What kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t have a stroller sitting in my car at all times?”
“Not an experienced one, for sure,” Harper teased back. She began walking toward the hallway. “Let’s get Layla’s diaper changed and then we can head out.”
“Why do I get the feeling that by we, you really meant me?” Mason hollered after her.
“She’s your niece!” Harper responded.
Mason was beginning to think that his smile was becoming a permanent part of his face. Even when he realized Layla’s diaper wasn’t going to be a quick change, he couldn’t stop the light, bright feeling that was floating through his chest. He liked it...a lot.