Harley stood up from the table and followed Marco through the dining room. When they’d disappeared, Emma took a drink of her tea. She rearranged the salt and pepper shakers, centered the small bud vase holding a carnation. Anything to take her mind off what she needed to do.
While she and Harley had been talking with Marco, Nathan had been standing next to the podium, talking to a man wearing a sport coat. She glanced at them, and when the guy shifted, a badge gleamed at his waist. A cop?
Not that she’d been keeping track of Nathan. Her eyes had simply wandered that way once or twice.
Nathan and the cop had their heads close together, as if they didn’t want to be overheard. The cop said something, and Nathan leaned closer. He looked excited. She wondered what they were talking about and if it had something to do with Nathan’s mysterious problem.
Then they were shaking hands and the cop walked out of the restaurant. Nathan watched him go, his expression hopeful, then turned and headed for her table. He slowed when he saw she was alone.
“Where’s Harley?” He dropped into the chair next to Emma.
“She went into the kitchen with Marco.” Emma forced herself to look at Nathan. He watched her, expressionless, making it impossible to know what he was thinking. “Something about tasting his food.”
“Yeah?” Nathan’s gaze drifted toward the doors. “Do I need to go back there and make sure all the knives are out of reach?”
Emma relaxed a little. “Probably not. It sounded as if Marco wants to do some science experiments on Harley’s taste buds, and Harley just wants to see the kitchen.”
“He’s not a bad guy,” Nathan said. “He just has some growing up to do. He’s the baby of the family. I think we all spoiled him a little.”
A shadow filled his eyes for such a brief moment, Emma wondered if she’d imagined it. “He was fine.” She smiled cautiously. “Harley told him he was a jerk.”
“Ouch.” Nathan smiled back and heat fluttered low in her belly. “He must have taken it okay if he invited her into the kitchen.”
“He admitted to his jerkiness.” Emma swallowed, reminding herself this was a serious conversation. There couldn’t be any flirting tonight.
“That’s Marco. Gets angry, says something stupid, apologizes. Then he forgets all about it.”
“Nice he has a family that understands him,” Emma said quietly. Her mother hadn’t understood anything about Emma. She’d been too busy “fulfilling” herself to pay much attention to her daughter.
“That’s what families are supposed to do, right?” Nathan leaned closer. “Figure out how everyone works.”
Another pang of regret swept through Emma. “If they’re lucky,” she murmured.
Nathan stared at her. Longing swept through Emma and she struggled to push it away. “Sounds like you weren’t lucky,” he finally said.
She shrugged. “No one has a perfect family.”
Nathan didn’t say anything. The murmur of voices, the clatter of silverware against plates, the muted clanging noises from the kitchen all faded into the background. In Nathan’s gaze, Emma saw understanding.
She smiled, although her face felt as if it would crack. “I bet even you didn’t grow up with perfect parents, and siblings who never fought.”
For a moment, she thought he’d ignore her attempt to lighten the mood. Then he touched her hand. Slid his palm over her wrist. Emma shivered.
With one last caress, he straightened. Took his hand away. “Pretty damn close,” he murmured. “Until...”
Until his parents died. “That was an insensitive thing for me to say,” she murmured.
“No. You’re right. We fought just like any other kids. And our parents yelled at us plenty.” He stared toward the kitchen. “That first night, when Harley showed up here, I couldn’t see a resemblance to anyone in our family.” He switched his gaze back to Emma. “Other than her blue eyes. But I went home and looked through old photo albums. My grandmother had red, curly hair. And Harley’s got my mother’s palate. It’s kind of surreal.”
“Yeah, it is.” Every once in a while, Emma saw things in herself that came from her mother. It always upset her. She didn’t want to be anything like the self-absorbed, selfish woman who’d raised her.
“Our parents never die,” he murmured, dragging his gaze away from the kitchen door. “Parts of them show up in us. Our children. Our grandchildren.” He smiled. “I think my mom would have loved that her granddaughter got her sensitive taste buds. And my dad would have been crazy about his redheaded granddaughter who looked like his mom.”
“You need to tell Harley that.” Emma put her hand over Nathan’s. “She’s been so lost since Sonya died. I love her, but I’m not her family. Show her pictures of your parents, your grandparents, you and your siblings when you were children. Let her see that she’s part of a family. That she has a history with you, more than just hair color and weird taste buds. She needs that.”
To her surprise, Nathan turned his hand over and linked their fingers. His fingers were strong on hers. Warm. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, and she felt the touch all through her body.
“She has more family than just me and my siblings. She has you, Emma. You are part of her family. You stepped up when she had no one else. You’re very important to her. I don’t know her at all, and I can see that.”
He continued to rub her hand, and she couldn’t think about anything besides the slight callus on his finger rasping against her skin. The heat growing in her chest. The memory of the way he’d looked at her at Oscar’s.
“And I know you care about her,” he added. “It’s obvious in everything you do.”
“I’m glad you told me about your family last week at Oscar’s,” she said softly. “It was...amazing of you to raise your siblings. Run the restaurant. I bet it wasn’t what you’d been planning on, was it?”
He smiled. “I was going to be a lawyer. Thank God I was saved from myself.”
Her heart fluttered again. She had no resistance against a man who could laugh at himself. Now, if she was smart, she’d tug her hand away. Reestablish boundaries between them. Get their relationship focused back where it belonged—on Harley.
She couldn’t do it. She’d had no idea that just touching a man’s hand could make her want so much. Make it so difficult to concentrate. She closed her eyes and tightened her grip on Nathan, as if that would give her the courage to continue.
“You were right,” she said softly. “I am her parent right now. I am the one who’s supposed to make the decisions. I always thought, when I had a child, that I’d do everything perfectly. I’ve seen so many examples of what not to do, that I assumed I’d get it right.” She swallowed. “It was hard to hear that I wasn’t perfect.”
Nathan leaned closer. “There’s no such thing as perfect. You do the best you can. You make the best decisions you can make. And you love your kids. That’s all you can do.”
She held his gaze. Saw the certainty in his eyes. The understanding. “Thank you.”
He squeezed her hand one more time, then let her go. “Why don’t we see what’s happening in the kitchen? It’s been awfully quiet back there.” He smiled, and butterflies lurched in her stomach. “I’m getting worried.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NATHAN RESTED HIS hand lightly on the small of Emma’s back as she headed toward the kitchen door. The movement of her muscles beneath his palm made him want to press harder. To run his
fingers over her spine and slide his hand around the curve of her waist. For now, though, he’d have to be satisfied with watching the sway of her hips in her snug jeans.
He wanted to know more about Emma, and not just because she was Harley’s guardian. They’d talked about families, and he wanted to know why that shadow of sadness had filled her eyes. He wanted to know what she did for fun, whether she enjoyed her job, what she liked to eat.
He wanted to know what she tasted like. How she’d feel in his arms.
He dropped his hand as they reached the kitchen. He had no business even thinking about a potential relationship while he tried to solve the mystery of his anonymous benefactor.
While he tried to connect with his daughter.
Would he still be able to go on his trip? He’d spent a long time researching, then making appointments with potential suppliers. If he canceled, months of work were down the drain.
Couldn’t think about that right now.
Just like he couldn’t think about moving forward with Emma. Adding a relationship between them to her role as Harley’s guardian would make things complicated. Awkward.
He shoved the door open and waited for Emma to walk through ahead of him. The familiar scents of the kitchen calmed him. Centered him. Like it or not, this was his life right now. This, and the girl standing next to Marco, staring down at a plate on the counter.
His daughter.
His hand brushed Emma’s, and she tensed. He wanted to do it again. To see how she’d react. Instead, he moved ahead of her. Ahead of temptation.
Focus. Marco and Harley leaned over a plate holding smears of several sauces. Harley was gesturing, Marco was scowling, and Nathan moved in to head off a confrontation.
“That’s stupid,” he heard Harley say. “It needs more marjoram, not oregano.”
“It’s pizza sauce.” Marco swiped his finger across the plate, then licked it clean. “Oregano should be the dominant note in pizza sauce.”
Harley rolled her eyes. “Yeah, if you want it to be like every other pizza out there.” She copied Marco’s swipe through the sauce, licked her finger exactly as he had done, then snorted. “Why don’t you just use a sauce from a can? There are a million of them in the grocery store. They even say ‘pizza sauce’ on the label so you don’t make a mistake.”
Nathan stopped. Marco and Harley hadn’t even noticed him. He glanced at Emma and saw her biting her lip.
She motioned him back. When they were several feet away from Marco and Harley, who were still fighting over the sauce, Emma grabbed his hand.
“Leave them alone,” she said, her eyes laughing. “She does the same thing to me when I cook. It’s unnerving, but Marco will get used to it.” A gentle laugh escaped. “I mostly let her do the cooking now. We’re both happier.”
“It’s kind of scary, actually,” Nathan said, watching them move on to a white sauce. “It’s like seeing my parents all over again.”
Emma watched Harley and Marco. Nathan watched Emma. She smiled proudly as Harley began to critique Marco’s sauce, then turned to him. “She’s pretty amazing.”
“Yeah. She is.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off Emma.
He linked his fingers with hers and she went still. Her smile faded and her mouth softened as she tugged her hand away. “I was talking about Harley.”
“Yeah, I know.” He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from touching Emma again and forced himself to look at Harley. Her head was close to Marco’s, and they appeared to be negotiating. Finally Harley smiled, held out her fist, and Marco bumped it with his own.
Harley looked at him and grinned. “We’re gonna do a taste test. Jerk-face and I are both going to make pizza sauce, then we’ll let the customers choose.”
“Listen, brat, that’s Uncle Jerk-face to you.” Marco crossed his arms and smirked at Harley. “And I hope you know I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Yeah?” Harley narrowed her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
“Uh, Marco? Language?” Nathan said. That’s what a father was supposed to say. Right?
Harley rolled her eyes. “Like I don’t hear worse at school every day.”
And she’d hear worse in his kitchen if she spent much time here. Which apparently she was planning on doing.
“Sorry, kid,” Marco said. “Gotta watch my mouth.” He grinned at Harley, and she grinned back.
Who would have guessed that his prickly brother and his smart-mouthed daughter would form such an instant bond? Especially after what had happened the first time they met. It was good, Nathan told himself. The two of them could talk cooking until the cows came home. But it hurt a little. That should be him she was talking to. Joking with. Bumping fists with.
Emma tugged on his arm and drew him back a few steps, until they stood next to the pizza counter. “Uncles and aunts can be the fun ones,” she said quietly. “They don’t have to make the tough decisions. They don’t have to say ‘no.’ Think of Marco as her gateway to the family.”
“More social worker talk, Emma?”
She hugged his arm close for a moment, before letting him go. “Yes, it is. Doesn’t mean it’s not the truth, though.”
“Look at them.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Less than half an hour and they’re buddies? Uncle Jerk-face? What the hell is that?”
She took his hand from his pocket and linked it with hers—he held on tightly. “They share a passion,” she said quietly. “Harley loves cooking. She doesn’t watch TV dramas or sitcoms—she watches cooking shows. And she hasn’t had anyone but me to talk to about it. I can manage to put a meal on the table, but I’m not in her league. Not even close. Marco is probably the first person she’s ever met who loves cooking as much as she does. Of course they bonded. Of course she’s loving it.”
“So quit being jealous? Is that what you’re saying?”
She smiled then. “No, you can be jealous. Just let it be a positive thing. Make an effort to find something you have in common with Harley. You both enjoy baseball.”
Now Nathan wanted to roll his eyes. “Cubs and Sox. Remember? That’s like saying cats and dogs can get along just fine, if everyone respects their differences. In real life? They want to tear each other apart.”
“Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best choice. Although it was an interesting conversation.” She smiled, clearly remembering it.
“Not funny, Emma.”
“I thought it was hilarious.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not your kid. You don’t have to find a way to connect with her.”
Emma’s smile disappeared. She disengaged their hands. “You’re right. She’s not mine. And on that note, we need to get going. Harley has school tomorrow.” She rubbed her hands down her thighs and stepped toward Harley.
He caught her elbow. “You know what I meant,” Nathan said wearily, watching Harley laughing with Marco. “You already have a relationship with her. I don’t even know where to begin.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, I know. The reminder just stung a little. But you’re good with kids, Nathan. You’ll figure it out.” She switched her gaze to Harley. “She’s a great kid. You’ll adore her once you get to know her.”
She tugged her arm away and walked over to Harley and Marco. Harley scowled as Emma said something. Then she turned and spoke to Marco. They both grinned.
Emma steered Harley toward the kitchen door, and Nathan fell into step alongside them. “I’m glad you came
in tonight,” he said.
“I am, too.” She nudged Harley. “Aren’t you glad we did?” she asked the girl.
“Yeah. It was awesome to see the kitchen and taste the sauces with Marco. He’s cool.” She glanced at Nathan. “You are, too,” she added hurriedly.
Emma bit her lip again. “No higher praise from a teen,” she murmured.
“Yeah, if she meant it,” he said under his breath.
Laughing, Emma led Harley out the door. Nathan watched until the outer door closed behind them.
He turned back to Marco. “Danny Kopecki stopped by earlier. He’s been asking at some other restaurants in the neighborhood, and Fullerton has been getting money from them, too.”
Marco picked up the plates he and Harley had been using and stacked them close to the dishwasher. “Freakin’ weird, bro. Who would pay bribes for us?”
“I have no idea. But I’m guessing it’s connected to whoever gave the alderman the money for our remodel. It’s like we have some kind of twisted guardian angel out there. Committing crimes in order to help us. And why did the bribes stop?”
Marco glanced at him. “I don’t like this, Nate.”
“Neither do I. The fact that the bribes have stopped feels a little threatening.”
“We’ve gotta figure this out, now that you have a kid hanging around. You don’t want her to get mixed up in this.” Marco smiled. “For a brat, she’s pretty cool.”
Nathan remembered his daughter smiling at his brother and a tiny worm of jealousy slithered through him. Marco and Harley had connected so effortlessly, even after a bad start. Whereas he still felt awkward and uncomfortable with her.
Harley clearly felt the same way.
He went back to the dining room and greeted a couple who’d walked in. Where was he going to find the time to develop a relationship with his daughter? He worked almost every night. She was in school during the day. And his spare time was devoted to running down leads on his mystery benefactor.
Bending the Rules Page 13
