Suddenly You

by Sarah Mayberry

  “It was a couple of hours’ work, and Dad let me use his shop. Like I said, not a big deal.”

  Pippa took in his tired eyes, five-o’clock shadow and fingernails still dark with grease. She knew from her inquiries that replacing a head gasket in a standard, four-cylinder car was an eight-hour job, minimum. He must have worked around the clock after hours to do this for her.

  A thousand thoughts battled for supremacy, but there was only one thing she could say.

  “Thank you. This means so much to me and Alice. You’ve literally saved my bacon.”

  She held Harry’s gaze as she said it, wanting him to see how sincere she was, how grateful. It might embarrass her to have to be the recipient of his charity, but no way was she rewarding his generosity with anything other than sincere appreciation. The shame was her problem, not his.

  He stuck his hands into his back pockets, stretching his T-shirt across his broad chest. “It wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it could have been. A clean replacement, no complications.”

  He was clearly uncomfortable, which, oddly, made it easier to swallow her own discomfort. She felt a rush of fondness for her ex’s best friend. Harry had always been her favorite of Steve’s mates. No competition.

  “You’re a good man, Harry.”

  He frowned.

  “If I can be a gracious receiver, the least you can do is accept my thanks,” she said.

  “Thanks are fine. But we both know I’m no saint.”

  “Did I call you a saint? I said you were a good man.” She stepped to one side. “Come in so I can make you even more uncomfortable with my gratitude.”

  He glanced over his shoulder as though looking for an escape route.

  “Come on. A little slavish gratitude won’t hurt you,” she teased.

  His gray eyes creased at the corners as his mouth curled into a reluctant smile. He stepped over the threshold, brushing past her, and she caught the scent of clean sweat and spicy deodorant. Her gaze scanned his broad back before dropping to his butt.

  She stopped the moment she realized what she was doing. Harry was Steve’s best friend. In every way that counted, he was completely and utterly off-limits. She didn’t need or want to register him as a man. She definitely didn’t want to notice he had a nice ass.

  Even if he did.

  Pippa shut the door, being careful to shoulder it so the lock slipped into place. She was aware of Harry watching her and she shrugged philosophically.

  “This place is a bit of a work in progress,” she said and headed down the hall.

  She heard Harry follow, his tread steady and sure. When they entered the kitchen she threw him a quick smile.

  “One sec while I check on Alice.”

  She ducked her head into the sunroom. Her daughter was chewing on the sleeve of her Onesie, a sure sign she was hungry. Pippa scooped her into her arms.

  “We’ve got a visitor. You want to come and say hello?”

  Harry stood in front of the photographic montage she’d made of the first few months of Alice’s life, his expression unreadable.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “Now, can I offer you a coffee or a tea? I think I may even have a stray beer in the fridge. And have you had dinner?”

  “Coffee’s great, thanks.” He turned from the photographs, and his expression softened when he saw who she was holding. “Hello, little lady.”

  Alice blew a bubble and gurgled in the back of her throat.

  “That’s hello in baby-speak, in case you were wondering.”

  Pippa settled Alice on her hip and crossed to the kettle to set it boiling. Acting on a hunch, she pulled out the leftover roast potatoes and chicken schnitzel from dinner and ferried them toward the microwave.

  “If that’s for me, please don’t bother,” he said.

  She slid the plate into the microwave before facing him.

  “Tell me what you had for dinner and I’ll put it in the fridge.” She was aware of Alice latching on to one of the buttons on her bodice and she ran a finger distractedly over her daughter’s head.

  He eyed her for a beat before responding. “Okay. I haven’t eaten yet, but I’ve got food at home.”

  “If I can accept you repairing my car for me, you can accept a meal.” She hit the button to start the microwave and waved him toward one of the two stools tucked beneath the kitchen counter. “Especially when the reason you went hungry is because you were doing me a favor. Grab a seat.”

  “I don’t remember you being this bossy.”

  “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  “Maybe.”

  He sat as she collected coffee-making paraphernalia from the cupboard.

  She laid out a knife and fork for him, grabbed a glass of juice, too, then folded a paper napkin and placed it beside the cutlery.

  “Don’t go to any trouble.” He seemed awkward as hell sitting there, waiting for her to feed him.

  “Relax. It’s a paper napkin.” She went very still when his gaze dropped to her breasts.

  In all the time she’d dated Steve, she’d never—not once—gotten the vibe that Harry was interested in her as a woman. His attitude toward her had always been strictly friendly—no eye drops, no ass checks, no speculative looks. If she’d been asked by someone to describe the way he treated her, she’d have said his attitude was fraternal. Big brotherly.

  Yet right now, right this second, he was staring at her chest with a single-minded intensity that made her belly tighten with nervous self-consciousness.

  The moment seemed to stretch. Then Harry lifted his gaze to hers and realized he’d been busted. Dull color stained his cheeks.

  “Sorry. It’s just…your dress…” He gestured toward her chest, his gaze trained resolutely over her shoulder now.

  She glanced down and discovered that the top two buttons of her bodice were undone, offering him an untrammeled view of her deep red bra and a whole lot of cleavage.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SHE GATHERED THE sides of her dress together in her free hand, heat burning its way into her face. “Sorry. Alice must have— She’s never done that before....”

  It was true. Alice was always fiddling—with Pippa’s necklace, her earring, the collar of her shirt or the buttons on her coat—but she’d never unbuttoned anything before.

  Pippa tucked her chin and tried to rebutton her bodice one-handed, very aware of the warmth in her cheeks. Unlike many of the women in her mothers’ group, she had been unsuccessful at breast-feeding. A series of infections and an inadequate milk supply led her pediatrician to recommend bottle-feeding Alice when her daughter was barely a month old. Consequently, Pippa wasn’t nearly as casual about flinging her breasts around as some of her friends. To her, they were about sex and intimacy, not sustenance.

  And Harry had copped a very decent eyeful.

  “Here, I’ll take her.” Harry held out his hands, ready to accept the baby so she could secure her dress.

  “You’re sure?” she asked, surprised. He didn’t exactly seem the baby type.

  “She hasn’t just eaten, right?”

  “She won’t throw up on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Then we’re cool.”

  She had to release her dress to pass Alice to him, and Harry kept his eyes averted during the exchange. She quickly refastened her dress, fingers racing to push the buttons home.

  “Sorry about that,” she said once she was decent. “Bit more than you bargained for.”

  She couldn’t quite make herself meet his eye.

  “Should I slip the kid a tip or would that be overkill?”

  He surprised a laugh out of her. “I don’t think she needs the encouragement.”

  “Guess it depends on where you’re sitting.”

  She risked a glance at his face. He was smiling, a devilish glint in his eyes. She grinned.

  “You’re hopeless.”

  “Because I’ve got eyes in my head?”

&n
bsp; “Something like that.” She glanced at Alice, who was happily balanced on his knee, her back supported by one of Harry’s big hands.

  “Are you okay with holding her for a few more minutes or are you going to break out in hives from all the responsibility?”

  “I can handle it.”

  “Brave man.”

  “Weren’t you making me dinner?”

  She rolled her eyes comically before checking on the microwave. The timer was almost done and she opened the door to test the temperature of the potatoes. She was aware of Harry watching her as she worked and an odd little frisson ran up her spine. A couple of minutes later, she slid the plate in front of him, complete with gravy and a slice of fresh bread.

  “Looks good,” he said.

  “Well, it’s food, anyway,” she said modestly.

  She enjoyed cooking, but she wasn’t about to volunteer for Masterchef or anything. Definitely her efforts veered more toward the everyday and practical than haute cuisine.

  She reached for Alice, sliding her daughter off his thigh so he could eat his meal unhindered. At the last minute, Alice caught a fistful of Harry’s T-shirt in her small hand, clinging to it as though her life depended on it.

  “Alice. Sorry, Harry. She’s not used to men, so you’re a bit of a novelty item.”

  “It’s all part of being a babe magnet.”

  She winced to let him know his joke was really bad before prying Alice’s fingers loose. Her daughter had a fierce grip, however, and it took Pippa a few seconds to convince her to let Harry go. She was very aware of the firm warmth of his chest beneath the fabric and how close she stood to him. It hit her that this was the most intimate she’d been with a member of the opposite sex since she’d gotten pregnant. A less than impressive reflection of her social life, but also a solid explanation for the way her heart suddenly pounded in her chest.

  “You live to fight another day,” she said as Alice finally relinquished her prize.

  “Phew,” Harry said. “Thought it was all over for a moment there.”

  Pippa moved to a safe distance and gestured for him to eat. “Dig in. Don’t let it get cold.”

  He dutifully picked up his cutlery and started eating. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to regain her equilibrium. From the moment he’d dropped her car keys into her hand she’d been off balance. Exposing herself and then prying her daughter off him hadn’t helped matters.

  Funny, but she’d never thought of Harry as someone she could ever be nervous around. But then she’d never been alone with him at nine o’clock on a Friday night before, either.

  Right, because so much is going to happen. He’s probably just waiting for his moment to pounce, single mothers being a huge turn-on for him and all. Add to that the fact you’re his best mate’s ex and you’re practically irresistible. It’s a wonder he’s still got his pants on.

  The thought calmed her. The very idea of Harry being interested in her or her being interested in Harry was absurd. Beyond absurd, really, moving into insane territory.

  Common sense restored, Pippa crossed to the sideboard to find her handbag. She grabbed her checkbook from the side pocket and found a pen.

  Behind her, Harry made an appreciative noise. “This is really good. I love schnitzel.”

  “It’s my Aunt Bev’s recipe. She married an Austrian.”

  “Go Aunty Bev.”

  She opened the checkbook to a fresh page.

  Harry’s eyebrows rose as he registered what she was doing. “That had better not be what I think it is.”

  “You have to at least let me pay for parts. I’ve gotten some money together, so I’m not a total charity case.”

  “It was a gasket and some oil. A few bucks. Like I said, consider it Alice’s birthday present.”

  “Except it’s going to be another seventeen-odd years before she actually needs her own car.” She fixed Harry with a level look. “I appreciate your generosity, and I know I can’t fully repay you for your time, but please let me make sure you’re not out of pocket.”

  He gestured toward his plate. “You cooked me dinner. We’re square.”

  She made a frustrated noise. Harry cut another slice of schnitzel and popped it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, purposefully, a steady, confident expression in his eyes that as good as said, “I just had the final word and you can’t do anything about it.”

  He really was a cheeky bastard. Too cocky and smug and charming for his own good.

  “I’ll find a way to pay you back, Porter.”

  “You can try. But I don’t like your chances.”

  She harrumphed to let him know she didn’t agree, then crossed to the fridge and refilled his juice glass. Alice started fiddling with her buttons again and Pippa switched her to the opposite hip in the hope that it might distract her.

  “I have to ask—what’s with all the books on teaching?” Harry asked.

  “I’m studying to get my Dip. Ed.”

  “You’re going to be a teacher?”

  “No need to sound so surprised. It’s not that shocking.”

  “You’ve never mentioned it before, that’s all.”

  She pulled a strand of her hair free from Alice’s grasping fingers. “I need a job. A real job, not a joke job that I can pick up and put down whenever I feel like it.”

  Harry’s gaze went to Alice and she knew he understood.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Sometimes. I’ve had two class placements so far and they both went pretty well. No one died on my watch, at least.”

  “Setting the bar pretty low there.”

  “These days I find it’s best to have low expectations.”

  They talked about her studies as he finished his meal, leaving nothing but a thin trail of gravy. Testament, she hoped, to how much he’d enjoyed it. Afterward, he set his knife and fork neatly side by side on the plate and carried it to the sink. She watched as he glanced around for the dishwasher—there wasn’t one—then proceeded to wash his plate.

  “Wow. You’re actually house-trained. Who knew?”

  There was a reluctant grin on his lips as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Jesus, you’re a smart-ass. To think I used to miss you hanging around.”

  If the look on his face was anything to go by, he’d surprised himself as well as her with his inadvertent admission. She smiled, oddly touched, as he focused on rinsing his plate. She’d missed him, too, when things had gone south with Steve. Harry’s irreverence and easygoing charm had always appealed to her. In another time and place, perhaps, they might have been friends. In this lifetime, however, it was never going to happen. Too many old loyalties on his side and too many bad associations on hers.

  “I should get going,” Harry said as he set the plate on the drainer.

  “Okay.”

  She led him to the hallway, edging past the broken door. “Sorry about the obstacle course. The landlord assures me he’s going to fix this thing before the turn of the next century.”

  This time, thankfully, the lock opened easily and she watched Harry step onto the porch.

  “Thanks for dinner. And the show,” he said.

  Trust him to bring up the moment with her bra again.

  “And I’m the smart-ass?”

  “Maybe it takes one to know one.”

  “Maybe.” The smile faded from her lips as she held his eyes. “Harry, what you did tonight… I will never be able to tell you how much your generosity means. I feel as though I’ve had a visit from my fairy godmother or something.”

  He shrugged modestly. “Honestly, I could do it in my sleep. It’s really not a big deal.”

  “It is to me and Alice. A very big deal.”

  On impulse, she stepped forward, stood on tiptoes and flung her free arm around his shoulders.

  “Thank you for being so damn kind,” she said fiercely, pressing a kiss to the angle of his jaw. His shoulders were warm and firm beneath her arm and his five-o’clock shadow tickl
ed her cheek. She inhaled the good, honest smell of him, touched all over again by what he’d done.

  Before she could withdraw, his arms came around her, returning her embrace, and for a split second she and Alice were pressed firmly against his chest and side. Then he let go and she sank onto her heels. When she went to step away, however, she discovered Alice had once again grabbed Harry’s T-shirt and was not about to let go.

  “Maybe you really are a babe magnet.”

  Harry eyed Alice indulgently. “Nah. She’s just got good taste.”

  He brushed his forefinger across the back of Alice’s knuckles. Alice lifted her face to his, eyes wide, her mouth open in an almost-smile. Full of curiosity and wonder.

  “Come on, cutie,” he said gently, smiling in return.

  He brushed her hand again and Alice let go, transferring her grip to his finger. Pippa stepped back, and after a long second Alice let Harry’s finger slip from her grasp.

  “Should have known you’d be an expert at the cut and run,” she said.

  “Lots of practice.”

  For a moment they simply smiled at each other.

  “I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah. Look after yourself, okay?” she said, a little alarmed to feel her throat closing over with unexpected emotion.

  Although maybe it wasn’t that unexpected—he’d saved her ass tonight, after all.

  “Sure thing.”

  He raised his hand in farewell and headed for his car. She watched him, only belatedly realizing it must have been quite an operation to get both her car and his here. She wondered how many favors he’d called in and knew she’d never know. Just as she’d never know how much she really owed him for parts and labor.

  Grateful tears stung the back of her eyes as she waved him off. Pippa wasn’t one of those people who had random good things fall in her lap every day, and she’d never considered herself particularly lucky, but there was no doubt the universe had been smiling on her when Harry drove past on the highway last week.

  Suddenly she wished she’d said more to him, even if it would almost certainly have made him deeply uncomfortable. They’d been so busy giving each other a hard time, playing up their old dynamic, that she didn’t feel as though she’d properly expressed her feelings.