17. Maisie
Chapter 17
Maisie
T he overly crammed diaper bag — full of everything Harlan might need for a week at war with an infant — hangs on my pretty much healed shoulder. I have Audra in my other arm and am balancing a plate loaded with chicken Alfredo in my hand when I stall at the back door of Harlan’s house.
My stomach jumps in a jittery mess, and I’ll be surprised if I make it through the whole business meeting without losing my ever loving mind.
I’ve never left Audra with anyone. I’ve been with her every single second since she was born, and to say I’m nervous is an understatement.
Hence the dinner. I needed something to occupy my mind, otherwise I would have canceled at least twelve times.
I need the money that this business meeting might bring me. I need the work to get my life back together like it was before that damned deer threw me a curveball I wasn’t prepared for.
After willing the anxiety tap dancing in my stomach to chill out, I raise my hand and rap my knuckles against the hunter green French doors that separate Harlan’s house from his back deck.
He’s been busy the last few days, and whether it’s the reelection, or the country music festival that starts tomorrow, I’m not sure. But he’s made a point to check in with me and Audra at least once a day — either by stopping by or by texting to see how we’re doing or if we need anything — and that also makes my tummy jump.
Was Jem right? Does Harlan have a thing for me?
I shove the thought away as the sound of the handle turning grabs my attention — and there he is.
Impossibly tall, broad shoulders, his beard trimmed neatly against his jaw and neck, tight abdomen, thick tree trunk thighs stretch his jeans, and the glimmer of an easy smile sits on his full lips with a satisfied gleam in his hazel eyes.
Good God, he’s handsome.
The thought makes a murder of crows take flight in the bottom of my stomach.
Harlan might have a thing for me, but I’m swiftly developing my own thing and that can’t be good.
After Sean, I should have a sign tattooed on my forehead that says “If interested, seek immediate medical attention.” I can’t trust my intuition with men.
But Harlan’s never given me a reason to not trust him.
Not like Sean who eroded that precious gift away one degrading comment or slap at a time.
“Maisie?”
“What? Huh?” Harlan said my name like he’s been trying to get my attention and I snap my gaze back to his face.
“You okay? ”
I will not tell this man that I was just salivating over him. I won’t do it.
“Yeah. Just distracted and a little nervous, I guess?”
Harlan smiles. “That’s fair. Here let me take that.” He plucks the plate from my hand and then settles Audra on his hip, and he’s so natural with it. Like he’s held my daughter every day since she was born, and it hits me right in the ovaries.
What is it about a man comfortable with kids that’s hot as hell?
“What’s this?” he asks, holding the plate a little higher and nodding toward it.
“Chicken Alfredo. I figured since you won’t let me pay you for the apartment, I could make you dinner to say thanks for that and for watching Audra and for… all of the things you’ve done for me since I landed here.” The explanation rushes out of me in a ramble and my cheekbones are so hot they could light a campfire with zero kindling.
“It smells good. You don’t have to cook for me, even if it is to say thanks, but I’m not turning down dinner if you’re offering.”
I nod, staying quiet so I don’t embarrass myself again.
“Here, come on in.” Harlan steps out of the way and I get my first look at his house.
The first thing I see is a massive wood table. Eight chairs flank the sides with two at the ends and it gleams under the kitchen lights.
Counter space for miles, he’s got a farmhouse sink with a panoramic window over it and slate colored cabinets dominate the space.
This is a serious kitchen. This is an entertaining kitchen and seems so at odds with the taciturn sheriff who lives outside of town.
Through the archway, I can see into his living room, and warm-toned leather couches are situated around a coffee table. A TV is mounted on the far wall above the fire place.
Harlan sets the plate down on the counter and pulls over a rolling high chair from the island that’s bigger than the bed in my apartment upstairs before settling Audra into it and adjusting the straps so that she’s secure.
My heart clenches at the sight.
“You bought a highchair?” I whisper.
Harlan looks over at me and his gaze is loaded with so many things that I can’t pick them all out.
“Yeah.” I watch his throat bobble as he swallows.
“I could have brought mine over.” None of his brothers have kids. What’s he going to do with the thing when I leave?
“It’s okay. I didn’t want you to have to haul over a bunch of baby stuff for a few hours. Your shoulder is still healing.”
If that was the only reason, he could have done the hauling, but I keep the thought to myself.
“Okay.”
“I also got a bassinet thingy like the one that you have — a Pack ’n Play, I think? Just in case she wants to sleep while you’re gone.”
I nod. “She usually goes to bed around seven. I already fed her dinner and gave her a bath, so you don’t have much to do there. I just like to check her diaper before she goes to sleep. If she gets fussy, I put a bottle of breast milk in there, you don’t have to warm it up or anything and it’s good for the next three hours, but she’s usually easy at bed time. I snuggle her a bit and then tuck her into her bed, and I should be back before she wakes up.”
Needing something to do with my hands, I pull the diaper bag off my shoulder and put it on the table. Picking items out of the diaper bag, I explain, “This is her baby blanket, obviously. Her diapers are here, and wipes there. There are a few changes of clothes in here and a stuffy if she wants it. If for some reason she starts not feeling good there’s infant Tylenol in the bag with her thermometer. I try not to give her any Tylenol until her fever goes over a hundred and one. She can have some every four hours. Her teething gel is in the side pocket —.”
“Maisie.”
My eyes fly to Harlan and he’s wearing a small amused smirk.
“You’re only going to be gone for a few hours. It’s okay to be nervous, but I don’t think that I’m going to need all that?”
Heat explodes across my face. “I, uh, know. But just in case.”
“I promise if she even hiccups funny, I will call you immediately.”
“Thank you. It’s just weird. I’m weird. I’ve never...”
“I know.” Harlan’s solemn tone makes me think that maybe he does get it. The nerves, the fear of the unknown, the panic at leaving her for the first time.
“Sorry,” I say lamely.
“You don’t have to be sorry. But I promise that I will take care of Audra.”
Audra lets out a cross between a shriek and a scream and Harlan laughs. “We’re going to have so much fun, aren’t we lil bit?” He snags his plate and after a quick detour for a fork sits down at the table and pulls the foil off the top.
“Sit down. You don’t have to leave for a few, right?” he asks while forking up some noodles and stabbing a piece of the chicken.
“Oh, uh, no. I don’t.” The clock on the wall tells me I have about twenty minutes before I have to leave. I honestly thought that it would take longer for me to instruct Harlan on caring for Audra.
But I should have known better. There doesn’t seem to be a thing in the world that Harlan isn’t prepared to handle — including infants.
“So join me.” He takes the bite of food, and I watch his reaction closely as I sit down. A satisfied rumble sounds from him as he chews slowly before swallowing. “Jesus Maisie. This is good. Is this homemade Alfredo sauce?” he asks before forking up a bigger bite.
“Yeah. My dad taught me how to make it.”
He licks his lower lip, swiping up some wayward sauce, and my core tightens.
Jesus god in heaven above. It’s his tongue for cripes sakes. Not like he’s licking me…
Nope. No. Not going there.
“How’s Jem’s website coming along?” he asks after another bite.
“I haven’t had a lot of time to start it, I’ve been finishing up some work for a different client and preparing for tonight, but the bones are there. I’ll be able to fine tune it between next week and the end of the month.”
“That’s fast.”
I shrug. “I like to stay busy, and Jem’s website is more technical work than anything — that’s easier for me. It’s the coding for designs that takes more time for me anyway.”
“Nice.”
“How’s work going for you?” I ask.
“Good. The music festival starts tomorrow, so we’re getting our ducks in a row for that. If I’m not around as much over the next week, it’s a sure bet that’s why.”
I file the information away and offer, “ If it’s okay with you, I could make you a plate for dinner so you don’t have to worry about cooking after you get home.”
His hazel eyes shine. “You don’t have to do that, but I won’t turn it down — not after this.” He nods down at the quickly disappearing food on his plate.
“Okay,” I say before blurting, “Why do you have such a big table? I mean, not that you shouldn’t have a large table, with how many brothers you have, but I haven’t seen them come by very often.” I slam my mouth shut.
He chuckles. “Fair question. My brother Duke? He does custom furniture pieces. When I finished the renovation on the kitchen, he built it up for me. Every once in a while, I host the poker night and it’s easier if we have room to spread out while playing.”
“You renovated the kitchen?”
He nods. “Yeah. When I bought the house, it was stuck in the seventies and needed some major repairs. My brothers and I did a lot of the rehab ourselves.” He stands with the now-empty plate and rinses it off in the sink.
“Here, come on, I’ll give you the tour.” He unsnaps Audra from the highchair and she snuggles into his shoulder like she’s been doing it all her life.
I follow him to the living room and listen as he says, “We ripped out the shag carpeting and put hard wood floors in, installed the gas fireplace and painted. There’s a half bath down the hall that was a complete gut job — along with the kitchen. Plumbing and the kitchen took the most time.”
He heads toward the stairs, and I run my hand over the wooden railing as I climb.
“The bedrooms up here were the easiest, same hardwood flooring, updated the light fixtures, added fresh paint.”
I count four bedrooms and a beautiful guest bathroom before he comes to a closed door at the end of the hall. “This is the master bedroom.” He pushes open the door, and I accidentally brush against him as I enter. Sparks of awareness tingle down my spine at the innocent contact and I shiver.
A massive king-size bed dominates the back wall, its comforter and sheets pulled up under the pillows, but still slightly rumpled. A fireplace sits against the far wall and is flanked by burly furniture.
“Your brother did these?” I point to the bedroom furniture.
He nods. “Yeah. Most of the furniture came from him.” He’s right behind me. Standing so close if I were to lean back…
Nope. Not going there either.
He pushes open a door, and I gasp at the beauty before me.
“This bathroom,” I whisper in awe.
The master bathroom has a steam shower with one, two, three — four overhead shower nozzles. I’ve never been envious of a bathroom before, but I am now. The kicker is the gleaming bronze clawfoot tub though. Its deep oval shape would be perfect for soaking.
Harlan grins at me. “Yeah. It was a bitch getting the tub up the stairs, but fucking worth it.”
“I bet.” I smile up at him. His hazel eyes dance with delight or satisfaction — I’m not sure which, and I want to ask him why. To understand what he’s thinking, what he might be feeling right now, with the two of us crowded in his master bathroom.
Harlan clears his throat before turning back to me.
“That’s the whole house. I have a few plans for some of the rooms and the backyard, just haven’t gotten to them yet...” He trails off.
He’s so close. I could move my arm slightly and be brushing my hand against his. A small lean to the side and I’d be touching him. How did I not notice the little bit of space between us disappearing?
Without thinking about it too much — because I would absolutely overthink it — I step into Harlan and wrap my hand around his waist and hug him to me. He’s holding Audra so that stops him from fully returning the gesture. But he’s warm — so freaking warm — and I soak in the gesture of touching a man who hasn’t hurt me for the first time in years.
“Your house is beautiful,” I say.
My alarm shrills from my phone in my pocket and makes me jump back.
“Shit. I need to go.” I silence the alarm. I don’t want to be late, especially since this is the first time I’ll be meeting the women that will — fingers crossed — be hiring me for work.
When my gaze finds Harlan’s, there’s heat banked in the endless sea of blue, green and brown. Simmering, barely under the surface, ready to ignite heat, and it’s beautiful, like the house, like the man, like the feelings floating through me.