Caught Up in You
Page 16
“Eddie has to decide what’s best for Max,” Frank agreed, “but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t take Max’s wishes into consideration.”
Eddie squeezed the back of his neck. Had he really thought having his family around was a good thing?
“It’s under control,” he told them, before they could continue discussing his life as if they had every right to put in their two cents.
Yeah, they were worried about Max. Eddie got that. But his son was fine. Lena had dropped him off when she’d said she would, and by ten-thirty, Max was bathed and in bed. He’d been where he belonged. At home with Eddie.
Today, Eddie was letting Lena take Max after lunch until this evening but then, by this time tomorrow, Lena would be on her way back to Chicago.
And things could return to normal.
“Hey, Pops,” Leo said, tapping their grandfather’s shoulder, “Mr. Swanson is waving at you.”
Returning his old friend’s wave, Pops stood. “I didn’t realize he was out of the hospital. I’ll go see how he’s doing.”
“Tell him we’re all thinking of him,” Frank said.
Pops nodded and walked down the narrow row. When he turned to go down the steps, Eddie spotted James and Sadie making their way toward them.
Followed by Harper.
Eddie slouched, caught his mother giving him an arch look and immediately straightened. Couldn’t help but glance Harper’s way again. They made solid eye contact. She slowed but kept putting one foot in front of the other, her gaze wary, the lift of her chin determined.
What fresh hell was this?
“Did we miss anything?” James asked.
“They’re getting ready for the face-off,” Leo said.
“Great.” James sat next to Leo while Sadie took a seat next to Maddie.
Leaving Harper standing next to Eddie. Shit.
His family greeted Harper warmly, all of them knowing she was Max’s teacher this year. Then came the inquiries: How was she? How was her family? How old was Cassidy? How was Max behaving in school?
On and on and on they went. His family loved to talk.
Still standing, Cassidy’s face buried against her neck in an uncharacteristic show of shyness, Harper responded politely. Finally, the game started, the questions died down.
And Harper sat in Pops’s recently vacated spot.
Cass lifted her head, caught sight of Leo behind them and stared, mesmerized by his too-pretty face.
Grinning, he winked at her. “Hey, there, beautiful. What’s your name?”
“I Cassidy,” she said, just short of batting her eyelashes. Must be something girls were born knowing how to do. “I—” Spotting Eddie, she squealed in delight. “Hi, Deddie! Hi!”
She lunged at him, easily breaking her mother’s hold. What choice did he have but to catch her?
As he settled her on his lap, the rink went silent. Or maybe it was just his family that’d been stunned into silence. If he knew them—and he did—when the game was over, they would badger him with their nosy questions and endless comments.
“Hi,” he said, unable to stop himself from returning Cassidy’s guileless smile. She was too freaking cute with her messy hair and those big blue eyes.
“Do you have any candy?” she asked, all innocent and hopeful.
“Cassidy,” Harper said, “what have I told you about asking men for candy?”
Cass gave a resigned, heartfelt sigh and slumped against Eddie’s chest. “I not ’posed to.”
“Yet you continue to do it.” Harper dug into her purse. “Here, come sit with Mommy and I’ll give you a banana.”
“No,” Cass cried, as if that was a fate worse than a thousand deaths. Whirling, she flung her arms around Eddie’s neck, held on tight enough to choke him.
Leo slapped Eddie’s free shoulder. “You finally got a female to fall all over you. It’s a banner day.”
“Shut it,” he grumbled. He patted Cass’s back. She was so small, and the scent of her hair reminded him of the baby shampoo he’d used on Max when he’d been her age.
“I want candy,” Cass wailed.
“No candy,” Harper said, using a tone that must keep the kids in her class in line. “You didn’t eat your breakfast.”
Cass raised her head, her eyes dry. “I eat it now.”
Harper held out the banana, waved it. “Too late, kiddo. Your breakfast is in the garbage at home so now you can eat a banana or nothing.”
Cassidy shoved it away. “No.” She laid her small, warm hands on either side of Eddie’s face as if to ensure she had his full attention. “Will you get me candy? Please?”
How the hell was he supposed to hold out against that? “You’re going to get me into trouble,” he whispered to her.
“No, I not,” she whispered back. Then she smiled like a little angel.
Harper huffed out a breath. “Don’t let the helpless routine fool you. She may only be two—”
“I tree!”
“But she’s an expert at getting what she wants. She takes after her daddy.”
“Daddy’s in heaven,” Cass told Eddie solemnly. “He likes candy.”
Eddie’s arms tightened on her a bit, wanting to shield her from her loss. But it wasn’t up to him to protect her from anything. “No candy until you eat your banana.”
“Okay, Deddie.” She took the peeled banana and started chomping away.
“Well, that was relatively painless,” Harper said as if surprised. “Thank you.”
He looked away. She was too close, too pretty with her gray eyes and prominent cheekbones. Too tempting with her nearness and that unpainted mouth.
Giving in to that temptation yesterday had been a mistake. A big one.
He wouldn’t make it again.
But he couldn’t focus on the game. He was too aware of her next to him, of her daughter’s warm weight in his arms. Of the curious glances his family shot them.
And he had to know the answer to the question burning on the tip of his tongue.
“Why are you here?”
11
“HERE AS IN the ice rink,” Harper hedged, her voice high and thin, “or here as in life as we know it? Because I don’t usually have deep, philosophical discussions until after noon and at least three cups of coffee. I’ve only had two so far today—okay, two and a half if you want to count that last one, which I’m not sure should be counted so—”
She inhaled, stopping the flow of words flying from her mouth. She was babbling like a loon, saying whatever popped into her head without giving more than a passing thought as to whether or not it should actually be shared with the world.
Eddie did not care to hear how much caffeine she’d ingested so far today.
That much was clear from the hard expression on his face.
Well, she wouldn’t be so nervous if he’d stop looking at her with such...intensity. As if he had reason to be worried about her instead of the other way around.
Then again, he was the one who’d been pelted with brownies last night.
Her face heated, her palms grew damp. She rubbed them down the front of her thighs to dry them. “What was the question?” she asked weakly.
“Why are you here?”
“Sadie invited me.”
Sort of.
When Sadie had mentioned last night that she and James were going to attend this game today, Harper had asked if she could tag along.
She’d wanted to see Eddie. To apologize for flipping out on him like some recently lobotomized shrew. To clear the air between them so things wouldn’t be awkward when he came into her classroom Tuesday.
She’d planned to come in here, set things right as quickly as possible, then head out again. What she hadn’t counted on was being surrounded by Eddie’s family and what seemed like half the population of Shady Grove.
She hadn’t counted on running smack-dab into her mother-in-law.
Had Joan somehow figured out that Harper had been kissed by another man? Wa
s that why she’d been so pale? So upset?
Harper’s stomach turned. No, that was ridiculous. Joan was a psychologist, not a mind reader. Though they were fairly similar professions. Harper would swing by Joan’s place on her way home, check that she was all right.
“All done,” Cass said, tossing the banana peel aside as if it had tried to rear up and bite her. “I want candy now.”
Right. Back to the candy thing again. Cass never forgot anything.
“Why don’t we go up to the concession stand?” Harper asked.
She held her arms out but Cass shook her head and hugged Eddie. Poor guy was lucky he could still breathe the way her daughter latched on to him.
“I don’t want you, Mommy,” her sweet baby, the light of her life said before leaning back and sending Eddie a look that was pure adoration. “You take me, Deddie.”
“Cass, give the man a few minutes peace,” Harper said.
“Why?” Eddie said in his low voice as he stood and shifted Cass to his hip. “You don’t.”
Crossing her arms, Harper followed him up the stairs to the upper level of the rink and into the small, thankfully empty concession stand. So she’d jabbered on a bit. What was he, allergic to talking?
Cass bounced in Eddie’s arms and pointed at a picture of steaming cocoa. “Hot chocolate!”
“That okay?” Eddie asked Harper. She nodded. “Small hot chocolate,” Eddie told the preteen boy working behind the counter. “Could you use half the regular amount of hot water? Then add cold?”
“No problem.”
Digging out his wallet, Eddie turned to Harper. “You want anything? Half a cup of coffee to make it an even three for the day?”
Harper’s lips twitched. “No thanks. And you don’t have to pay for it, I—”
“I’ve got it.” He handed the kid ten dollars, told him to keep the change for the hockey league. Carrying the drink, Eddie crossed to the corner. He set Cass on a tall, round table, bent slightly and looked her dead in the eye. “Don’t. Move.”
Cassidy sat completely still—the child didn’t even blink. Harper had to stare at her chest just to make sure it was rising and falling and that she was, indeed, still breathing.
“If I’d put her on there and told her not to move,” Harper grumbled, “she’d be doing a tap dance along with a few cartwheels just to keep my heart rate up.”
“Max listens to James before he listens to me,” Eddie said, taking the plastic lid off the cocoa. “Guess it’s their way of proving their independence.”
He took a cautious sip, making sure it wasn’t too hot for her baby.
Something inside Harper, something she could’ve sworn died along with Beau, warmed. She rubbed a hand over her aching heart.
Oh, this man was such trouble for her.
Cassidy didn’t try to grab the cocoa or say, I do it myself! A popular refrain at Harper’s house. No, her daughter sat there, well behaved and obedient, and sipped delicately from the cup in Eddie’s hands.
She lifted her head and smiled—all the better to show off her chocolate mustache. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the cocoa from Cass’s lip.
His hands were large, tan and riddled with scars, cuts and scrapes. Harper wondered what it would be like to have those hands on her. Hands that belonged to a man who wasn’t her husband.
Guilt swamped her, threatened to drag her under. She couldn’t let it. Not now. It’d have to wait until later, when she was alone and could wallow in it, could sit in silence and analyze her mixed-up feelings for the man in front of her. Could decide what to do about them. How to stop them.
She moved closer to Eddie. Ran the tip of her finger over a scratch on the table. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “About last night. The yelling and the...the...brownies. Everything. I overreacted.”
He stiffened but when he spoke, his voice was mild. “You have a right to react any way you want.”
He was letting her off the hook. She should take this reprieve, snatch up her daughter and get away from him, as fast and as soon as she could.
She didn’t want to go anywhere.
“It’s not you,” she said, needing him to understand, “it’s me.”
He snorted. “That’s a new one.”
“It may not be a new sentiment, but it’s an honest one. I reacted badly. I’m not sure what came over me but I want to say I’m sorry. I’m really sorry and I hope what happened didn’t change your mind about continuing to volunteer as a room parent.”
“It didn’t.”
“Good. That’s good. I mean, Max enjoys having you in class and I know the other kids do as well, and I really appreciate you taking the time to help out and, well, I hope that the whole thing—” she gestured between them “—that happened won’t make you uncomfortable,” she finished, sounding like an idiot.
Which made sense seeing as how she felt like a top-notch one.
“I’m comfortable,” he said, looking and sounding as if that was true. “Unless you have a problem with me being in your room?”
She had a flash of him in her bedroom, on her bed, his hair swept back from his forehead, his handsome face unsmiling as he looked up at her, his eyes darkening as she smoothed her fingertips across his cheeks, her nail lightly scraping his upper lip.
And it hit her that he’d meant her classroom.
Dear Lord, she was losing her mind.
“Of course not,” she squeaked, her voice not working properly.
“Then we’re square,” he said, picking up Cassidy when she lifted her arms toward him.
“Square. Yes.” But seeing how good he was with Cass, how much her daughter adored him, made Harper uneasy. “Why don’t I take Cass and—”
“Eddie.”
Harper turned as a woman with close-cropped dark hair walked toward them. Maybe walked wasn’t quite the right word. More like she slunk. She was leggy, thin and tall, her heels bringing her to at least five-ten so that she was head to head with Eddie.
“Lena,” he said gruffly. “What are you doing here?”
Harper’s eyebrows crept up. Lena? As in Max’s mother, Lena?
Lena smiled uncertainly. “Watching Max.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“He invited me. I don’t know much about hockey but I’m enjoying watching him. And this way, I can take Max from here instead of driving out to your house.” She turned to Harper. “Hello. I’m Lena Adams.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Harper Kavanagh, Max’s teacher. He’s such a sweet boy.”
“Thank you,” Lena said, glancing at Eddie. “I’m afraid I can’t take credit for any of that, though.”
Tension filled the air.
If that wasn’t Harper’s cue to leave, nothing was.
“Come on, Cass,” she said, pulling her kid from Eddie’s arms. “Let’s go home.”
“No!” Cass wriggled and squirmed.
“Thanks for buying her the cocoa,” she said to Eddie over her daughter’s high-pitched cries.
She walked away.
“Deddie!” Cass called, reaching for him as if Harper was some deranged stranger dragging her to work a chain gang. “I want Deddie!”
“I know you do,” Harper snapped, struggling to hold on to her daughter. “That’s part of the problem.”
Neither one of them had any business wanting him.
The sooner they both realized that, the better off they’d be.
* * *
“SOMEONE’S TEACHER’S PET,” Leo said when Eddie returned to his seat.
Eddie ignored him. If you gave Leo attention, he’d never shut up.
“Where’s Harper?” James asked.
“She went home.”
Thank God. He wasn’t sure which was worse, having her there or Lena. At least his ex-wife kept to her side of the rink. He’d agreed to let her take Max after the game. He hoped that wasn’t a mistake. But he hadn’t been able
to refuse her, not when she was making a real effort for the first time.
It scared the hell out of him.
“Never would’ve pictured you with Harper,” Leo said, clapping both hands on Eddie’s shoulders. “But I think it’s great. About time you got back on the horse and all that.”
Eddie glanced at James, who was typing something into his phone. “Did he compare Harper to a horse?”
“He’s an idiot,” James said without looking up. “We all know that.”
“Harper’s not a horse,” Leo said. “So don’t go telling her I said any such thing. She’s pretty enough.”
“But?” James said, finally putting his phone away.
“But she’s a mom.”
“So?” Eddie asked.
“So, her being a mom is fine for you. You’ve got a kid.”
“You never cease to amaze me,” James said.
Leo grinned. “That’s what I’m here for. Amazement. Awesomeness.”
James cuffed him upside his head. “It wasn’t a compliment.”
Leo frowned and rubbed his head. “It should be. Seeing as how I have such great luck with the ladies.”
That was true. Women loved Leo.
There was no accounting for taste.
“Harper is Max’s teacher,” Eddie said, as Max’s line got buzzed in to go out on the ice. “That’s all.”
“You two looked pretty damn cozy for her being just Max’s teacher.” Leo turned to James. “Back me up here.”
“It’s okay if you like her,” James told Eddie.
“Great. I’ll pass her a note in study hall.”
“I’m just saying she’s a very nice woman. And Cass is a kick. They were over last night and—”
“She was at your house?” Eddie asked as everything inside of him stilled.
“Last night?”
She must’ve gone there after he kissed her.
He forced his eyes up to his brother’s face. Ground his back teeth together.
“You know.”
James’s expression was a cross between sympathy and amusement, with amusement winning out in the end. “I overheard her telling Sadie. Tough break, man.”