Later, Harry leaned against the kitchen counter at Charlotte’s, drinking a cup of coffee while she rolled out cinnamon roll dough on the counter. He hadn’t seen much of his sister since Zoey had started staying with his kids and he missed talking to her.
“So I guess things with Zoey are still going well?” she said. “You never did tell me if she accepted your apology that night you dragged me out of bed so you could go see her.”
Harry stilled, suddenly realizing that he’d never told Charlotte he and Zoey had started dating. He ran a hand through his hair. How had he failed to mention it? It had been so late when he’d returned home that night that Charlotte had quickly left to get back to her own family before they’d really even talked. Then he’d just been . . . busy.
“Oh. Um, yeah. She accepted my apology. Things are good.”
“Good.” Charlotte pulled the brown sugar out of the cabinet.
The fact that she didn’t say anything more almost worried Harry. Charlotte had been badgering him about Zoey since he’d first mentioned Emily’s desire that he date her granddaughter. Char had jumped on board immediately, having long since decided it was time for him to start dating again. But now she wasn’t even going to ask a follow-up question? Ask if he liked her? Something was up.
Harry glanced at his watch. He didn’t have time to wait for the rolls to be done, not if he wanted to make it to Emily’s in time to meet Zoey and the kids. But Charlotte’s rolls might be worth making a second trip. Especially if he couldn’t get her to talk this time around.
Charlotte sprinkled the sugar over the melted butter that covered the dough, a weariness in her movements that Harry hadn’t noticed before.
“Hey, Char, you okay?”
She looked up. “What? Yeah.”
“You look a little tense. And tired.”
She scoffed. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“And you haven’t asked a single question about me and Zoey. We’re dating. And I really like her.”
She turned to face him, wiping her sugar-covered fingers on a dish towel she pulled from the counter. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s great. I’m happy for you.”
“It is great. She’s great. But what’s up with you?”
Tears welled up in Charlotte’s eyes and she shook her head. “I can’t tell you. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I haven’t told Brian yet, and he deserves to know first.”
Harry folded his arms across his chest. “Charlotte. I won’t tell him. You obviously need to talk about it. What’s going on?”
She huffed and dropped the dish towel onto the counter then covered her face with her hands. Finally she crossed her arms and took a deep breath, meeting Harry’s eye. “I’m pregnant.”
Harry’s eyes went wide. “What? I thought you—”
“Had my tubes tied? Yeah. I did. And Brian had a vasectomy. I’m a walking statistic.”
“Wow.” If there was anyone in the world that could handle another baby, it was Charlotte. And Brian, too. They were great parents. But five kids? That sounded like a level of crazy Harry couldn’t even imagine. “Five kids is a lot.”
Charlotte whimpered. “I don’t think I can do it, Harry. I’m so tired. This might kill me.”
Harry moved across the kitchen and pulled his sister into a hug. “You could consider yourself a walking statistic, but you could also consider yourself a walking miracle. It’s actually kind of amazing, isn’t it? And maybe it’ll be a little girl.”
Charlotte sniffed and leaned into him. “A girl might be nice.”
He rubbed his hands up and down her back. “You’re going to be amazing. And you’ll have lots of people to help. Brian, Mom and Neil, and now that I’m not such a mess, I can help too.”
“I know. Logically, I know all of that. I’m just scared.”
Harry reached around the counter and pulled a bar stool over to where Charlotte stood. “Here.” He nudged the stool forward. “Sit. I’ll finish the cinnamon rolls.”
“Do you even know how?”
“I’m very good at following instructions. And it looks like you did the hardest part.”
Charlotte walked him through the last few steps of rolling and cutting the dough. As he filled the greased sheet pans sitting behind him, Charlotte leaned her back against the counter, her hands resting in her lap.
“So you think Zoey will stick around then?”
Harry glanced up. “What do you mean?”
“Well, she lives in Chicago, right? She wasn’t planning to stay here permanently.”
“No, but, she has family here, and she seems to like it. I don’t think it would be all that hard for her to transition.”
“You haven’t talked about it though?”
They hadn’t talked about it. They’d inched around the subject a few times, but Harry got the sense Zoey didn’t want to. It made him a little nervous, but things were so good between them. He didn’t want to risk messing things up by demanding they talk about their future too soon. “It’s only been a few weeks. We’re just having fun. Getting to know each other.”
“Do the kids know?”
Harry moved the last roll to the pan. “What’s with the inquisition? Yes, the kids know. It’s kind of hard to hide it because Zoey and I are almost never together when the kids aren’t there. Our schedules don’t really allow for traditional dating.”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to sound critical. Just consider this a gentle reminder. The divorce was hard on Hannah. She’s with Zoey all day, and now she’s seeing you and Zoey together. You guys might just be getting to know each other, but Hannah’s probably already thinking Zoey’s going to be her new mommy.”
“That’s not what Hannah thinks,” Harry said, even as the expression he’d seen on Hannah’s face just that morning flashed into his mind.
“Are you sure?” Charlotte asked emphatically.
Harry didn’t answer. Hannah did love Zoey. She talked about her all the time when they weren’t all together. But surely she understood—except, why would she understand? Hannah was only five. He couldn’t expect her to understand the nuances of adult dating.
“I’m just saying. You probably ought to make sure your kids remember that Zoey’s only staying for the summer. Then if she does go back to Chicago, she isn’t breaking their hearts as well as yours.”
Harry took a deep breath. “That’s good advice.”
“Also maybe tell Zoey she can’t break your heart, okay? At least not until after this baby is born. It’s my turn to be the needy one for a change. I won’t be able to survive this without your help.”
He wanted to think dating Zoey wouldn’t end in a broken heart, even if she did end up leaving. He wasn’t that invested. She could go back to Chicago at the end of the summer and they could part knowing they’d had a good time together and that was that. But even as he thought the words, he knew they weren’t true. Zoey wasn’t the kind of woman you only casually dated. She was the real deal. If they kept this up, he would fall for her. The thought was exhilarating, but it was also terrifying. He’d been crushed when Samantha had left him; he wasn’t sure he could handle that kind of rejection again.
Chapter 9
Zoey pulled Harry’s SUV into the parking lot and surveyed the park scene in front of her.
“I see Carlie!” Hannah said from the back seat behind her. “And Rowan!”
“Let’s hurry then,” Zoey said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Can you help Oliver with his buckles?”
With a bag of snacks and another bag of toys and a spare change of clothes for Oliver—that kid was notorious for falling into mud puddles—strapped over her shoulder, Zoey led the children into the playground area. Hannah immediately darted off to find her friends. Zoey deposited all her gear at an empty bench in what she hoped to be neutral territory, then settled Oliver into the nearby sandbox with his dump truck and a shovel.
“Zoey!” one
of the moms called as soon as she’d approached her empty bench. “There’s room over here.”
It would be rude to turn them down, wouldn’t it? Zoey thought about faking a phone call but didn’t think she was enough of an actress to pull it off. Besides, these were nice women. How bad could it truly be? Zoey grabbed her things and moved to the cluster of benches a half-dozen moms occupied. She was actually a little closer to Oliver from her new seat; at least that was a good thing.
“We’ve missed you the past few weeks,” one mom said. Rebecca, maybe? Or was it just Becca?
“Oh. Thanks. Oliver was sick one week, and then I think we skipped because of the rain the week after that.” It had been raining, Zoey remembered. Briefly. But Harry had finished shooting early that day and he’d surprised them just after lunch. They’d ended up spending the afternoon together. She’d take that over a semi-formal playdate any day.
“How have you been?” another woman with red hair asked. Zoey couldn’t even pretend to remember her name. “How’s the job?”
“Great. I’m enjoying the kids,” Zoey answered.
“I’m sure the kids are so sweet. But how much do you see of their dad?”
“Rebecca, stop,” the redhead said. “You’re being nosy.”
Zoey made a mental note. Rebecca.
“Oh, come on, Ashley,” Rebecca said. “You know you’re all dying to ask.” She looked back to Zoey. “Is he as gorgeous in person as he is on television?”
“Um, haven’t you all met him before? He’s never brought the kids to Park Play?”
“Never,” Ashley said. “His sister brought them for a little while, but Harrison himself? He’s pretty elusive.”
“Do you know if he’s dating anyone?” Rebecca asked.
“Oh my gosh,” Ashley said. “Seriously? You’ve been divorced five minutes and you’re hitting up Harrison Beckford’s nanny for inside information?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “I’m just curious. He’s also divorced, you might recall. I’m wondering if he’s ready to start dating again.”
Zoey just smiled. Maybe they didn’t actually expect her to respond. They seemed pretty content talking about Harrison without any of her input.
“So?” Rebecca said, her attention back on Zoey. “Anything you can share?”
Zoey sighed. So much for that theory.
There was no way she was admitting to women she hardly knew that Harrison was dating someone and that the someone was her. They hadn’t told anyone yet, outside of family, and while they hadn’t talked about specifics, Zoey imagined the rules were different for someone like Harrison. Going public with a relationship was a decision. Almost an event. Particularly with him so fresh off of a divorce.
“I don’t think it’s my place to talk about Harrison’s personal life.”
“She told us that last time, didn’t she?” Ashley said. She looked Zoey right in the eye. “I promise we aren’t going to bully you into talking.”
Zoey smiled, grateful to have at least one ally. “Thanks.”
“Seriously though,” Rebecca said. She leaned back and angled her face to the sun. “Can you imagine? Having him to wake up to every morning?”
Zoey forced herself not to smile. She could imagine. Well, almost. They weren’t exactly waking up together, but she was in his kitchen every day while he drank his morning coffee and she kissed him goodbye on his way out the door. And the kisses they shared when the kids weren’t around sent enough fire coursing through her that she could easily imagine what falling asleep and waking up in his arms would feel like. That had to count for something.
“And I bet his house is absolutely gorgeous,” Rebecca went on.
“I can at least speak to that,” Zoey said. “His house is gorgeous. Like a magazine. It took five years to complete because he built the entire thing himself.”
“That’s seriously so sexy,” another mom said. “To build the whole thing by hand?” She sighed and shook her head.
“Come on. Just one thing,” Rebecca said.
“She did tell you one thing.” Ashley rolled her eyes then shot Zoey a sympathetic look.
“But that was about his house. Surely there’s something more . . . personal. One thing and I’ll leave you alone,” Rebecca tried again.
Zoey tugged on her bottom lip, trying to think of something benign enough to share. “Um, he has a golden doodle named Marigold. She’s really sweet.”
Rebecca looked like maybe she wasn’t going to leave Zoey alone for such an unsatisfactory answer. Before she could push any further, Zoey stood up. “I think I need to check on Oliver.”
She settled onto the side of the sandbox and leaned forward, helping as Oliver scooped sand into the back of his truck and then drove it to the other side of the box where he dumped it onto an already impressive pile. “That’s good work you’re doing, Ollie.”
“I build like Daddy,” Oliver said without looking up from his truck.
“Yeah, you sure do, buddy. Great job.”
“Hey.”
Zoey looked up to see Ashley, the redhead, standing beside the sand box, her hands on her hips.
“Hey,” Zoey said.
Ashley looked across the playground, yelling for her kid to stop swinging on the monkey bars then sat down beside Zoey. “I’m sorry if Rebecca made you uncomfortable. She’s normally not that bad. But she’s kinda reeling after her divorce. She got hurt pretty bad.”
“It’s totally fine. I don’t mind her asking. I just, it’s not my place, you know?” Somewhere in the back of her mind, Zoey knew that if she did keep dating Harry, eventually the public would know. These women would know. And they’d likely figure out that she’d been dating him even while they asked her all their pointed questions. Still, Zoey couldn’t bring herself to care. She found herself oddly defensive of her privacy, of Harry’s privacy. Is this what it would always be like? Strangers feeling perfectly empowered to ask questions about their private life?
“I totally get it,” Ashley said. “And respect you for it. My husband works in film. He’s a producer. He’s worked in the industry long enough for me to have learned how much gossip can ruin people. I think it’s awesome that you don’t want to talk.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“Hey. Let me see your phone. I want to give you my number.”
Zoey only hesitated a moment before pulling her phone out of her pocket. She liked Ashley. Trusted her, even. She pulled up her Contacts app and handed the phone over.
Ashley keyed in her name and number. “If you ever need a friend, don’t hesitate to text me. My daughter Rowan is good friends with Hannah. I’m sure you have friends and a life outside of your job, so no pressure. I’m just letting you know. We’re not all—” She motioned her head back toward where Rebecca sat. “Like that.” She grinned and closed out Zoey’s contacts. Then she froze, Zoey’s phone in her hands. She looked up at Zoey, her eyes wide, then slowly handed the phone back. “I’m guessing you didn’t want me to see that.”
Zoey snatched the phone back and closed her eyes, heat flooding her face. A few nights before at Nana’s, when Harry and the kids had come over for dinner, she had taken a selfie of her and Harry snuggled together on the couch. Zoey was smiling directly at the camera, but Harry was looking at her. His nose was pressed against her cheek—he’d just kissed her—and he was smiling, his eyes closed. He looked like he was savoring the moment and the photo had made Zoey’s breath catch when she’d first seen it. When she showed it to Harry, he’d taken her phone, saving the photo as the background on her home screen. “Now you can remember fifty times a day how I feel about you,” he’d said.
“Oh gosh,” Zoey said. “I’m—”
“I won’t say anything,” Ashley said, cutting her off. “I swear. I totally get why you didn’t want to tell anyone.”
“It’s still just so new,” Zoey said. “And I don’t even know if I’m—” She took a deep breath. “I live in Chicago. I’m just here helping out my grandm
other for a few months and I needed part-time work. I’m not even sure I’m staying in California after the summer ends.”
“Wow,” Ashley said.
“Sorry.” Zoey shook her head. “I don’t even know why I told you all of that.”
“No, it’s okay. A new relationship is big. And probably the fact that it’s Harrison Beckford makes it feel even bigger.”
Zoey huffed a laugh. “Yeah.”
“Like I said,” Ashley said. She pushed herself to standing. “Even if you just need someone to talk to, I’m here. And I promise I’ll be discreet.”
Zoey nodded. “Thanks.”
Later that evening, Harry walked Zoey out to her car. Or, his car, really. He’d been letting her drive it back and forth to Nana’s every day. The kids were watching a movie inside, giving them ten minutes of alone time before Zoey had to leave to go and relieve Cassandra.
Harry leaned against the car, looping his thumbs through the belt loops of her jeans and pulling her close. She leaned up and kissed him, one hand lingering on the scruff that covered his jawline. “So, um, something happened at the park today.”
He tensed under her hands. “Something bad?”
“Not really. I mean, the kids are fine. It didn’t have anything to do with them. But you remember the picture you turned into my phone wallpaper a few nights ago?”
“That’s a really good picture.”
She smiled, despite her worry. “Yes. It is. But one of the moms at the park saw it.”
“Ohhh,” Harry said.
Zoey bit her lip. “She said she wasn’t going to say anything. There’s another mom, Rebecca, who, if she had seen it, you’d probably have TMZ parked out in your driveway right now. But Ashley, I don’t think she’s like that.”
“Ashley,” Harry repeated.
“Rowan’s mom?” Zoey said. “Do you know her?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Charlotte might.”
“I’m sorry. She asked for my phone so she could give me her number and I didn’t even think—”
“Zoey,” Harry said, cutting her off. “You don’t need to apologize. I don’t care that she saw the picture.”
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