Gripping the door handle tightly in one hand, and pointing at Harper with the other, Melissa wore an expression of pure accusation. Without bothering with a greeting, she said, “No girlfriends. We’ve talked about this. It creates an unstable environment for Ellie when they change.”
Melissa’s scumbag fiancé, Guy Hansen, appeared behind her, his half smile all affability, but it was a thin veil covering the menace in his eyes. “I’m afraid that’s a nonnegotiable. No girlfriends around Ellie. I know we’re all worried about Ellie’s best interests.”
Nick felt his blood pressure rise. Who was this man to lecture him about his own daughter’s best interests? He drew in a steadying breath and smiled even more broadly than the other man.
“No need to worry. Harper isn’t my girlfriend. She’s my wife.” He held up their joined hands to show Harper’s wedding ring, then his other hand to display his.
Melissa gasped. “You’re married?”
The sleazy fiancé put an arm around Melissa’s shoulders and gave him a stern look. “Now, Nick, this joke is in poor taste. You know how seriously Melissa takes things when it comes to Ellie.”
Nick gritted his teeth and ignored the unspoken accusation of the statement—that he didn’t take his daughter seriously enough—and instead pulled his eyebrows together in mock confusion. “Legally binding marriage vows are no laughing matter, Guy.”
Melissa’s expression morphed from disbelief to suspicion. “You weren’t even seeing anyone.”
“It’s been a while since we knew each other’s movements, Melissa,” he drawled with a hint of a smile. “We’re divorced, remember?”
Guy bristled and drew Melissa even closer against his side. “You’re just doing this for the custody case.”
He felt Harper stir beside him, ready to come to his defense, but he squeezed her hand, silently letting her know that he was fine. “Now, why would I need any help with the custody case?”
Guy opened his mouth, but Melissa cut him off. “How did you two meet?”
Easy. “Harper is an attorney for Tate Armor.”
Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re hands-on with the business now?”
“Actually, I’m not trying to tell you anything. As I pointed out, we’re divorced. Now, I’d like to see my daughter.”
Melissa met his gaze and held it, clearly deciding whether it was worth trying to satisfy her curiosity further or not...and gauging the likelihood of him telling her more. He didn’t blink.
Then she called over her shoulder, “Ellie. Sweetheart, your father is here.”
Seconds later, his daughter came tumbling from the living room in a red-and-white polka-dot dress, arms outstretched, calling, “Daddeee!” He scooped her up, gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek and held her tight. As he breathed in her sweet scent, the world was suddenly a better place.
* * *
Harper listened to Nick and Ellie chat in the car for the entire trip to the park. She was impressed by Nick’s patience as the little girl jumped from topic to topic. From what Ellie had for breakfast—pancakes. To science questions—how do birds fly? To sightings of her favorite color car—yellow.
Given how reluctant Nick had been to make small talk with his mother and brother, Harper was pleasantly surprised at how easily he seemed to engage in chatty and convoluted conversations with Ellie. Of course, Ellie was adorable and clearly idolized him, which would make her a much more charming partner in discussion than a brother who seemed to delight in trying to get a rise out of him.
When they pulled up and Nick unbuckled Ellie from her child restraint, Harper decided it was time to join in. Developing a relationship with Ellie was an important part of being able to make a good impression on the judge, but more than that, Ellie would be the big sister to the babies. That sibling bond would be priceless, and Harper wanted to start building bridges between them now. Which meant she needed to forge a relationship with Ellie herself.
They wandered over the crisp green grass, the angelically beautiful Ellie holding Nick’s hand, and Harper casting around for something to say. Then she saw a group of older kids at the other end of the park flying brightly colored kites.
“Ellie,” she began in a chirpy voice, “would you like to go and see those kites?”
Ellie glanced up at the sky, her long, ice-blond hair dancing in the breeze, one hand shading her eyes. “No, thank you,” she said politely, then went back to chatting with her father.
Nick threw Harper a rueful smile, then said, “How about we head for the swings?”
Ellie leaped a step and flashed her enchanting smile. “Yes!”
“I love swings,” Harper said. In fact, swings made a whole heap of sense—they were more interactive and fun than watching other kids playing, which was all that would have happened with the kites. She mentally filed the information away for future reference.
Once they reached the swing set, Nick lifted Ellie into a swing and Harper tried again.
“Would you like me to push you?” she asked.
Ellie twisted around to see her, her gray-green eyes earnest. “Can Daddy do it?”
It was a totally reasonable request from a little girl who loved her father, so despite a small pang of disappointment, Harper couldn’t begrudge her wanting Nick.
“Of course,” she said and stepped back.
Once Nick had a squealing Ellie swinging in rhythm, he glanced over at Harper. “You okay?”
“Sure.” She focused on Ellie’s utter delight in soaring through the air, her hair flying behind her. “I guess I didn’t think it would be this hard.”
“It’s only because she doesn’t see me often enough,” he said, as if that was all there was to it. And maybe it was, but deep down, Harper suspected it was more.
“It’s just that if I can’t get a three-year-old to let me push her on a swing, it doesn’t bode well for parenting two babies.” Her stomach dipped as she said the words aloud. This was why her first plan once she’d known she was pregnant had been to move home and get help from someone experienced with children.
He pushed the swing and turned to her. “You’ll be a great mother, Harper. Are you having doubts?”
“About that, and pretty much everything,” she conceded.
He arched an eyebrow. “About us?”
“Actually, this has shown me that you’re the person I need to help with the babies.” If he could inspire love and devotion in a child he didn’t get to see often enough, then he’d be a beautiful father for their twins.
“We’ll be great,” he said, his focus intense. “Together.”
It meant a lot that she had his support, especially when she was doubting herself. She smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“Right,” he said more loudly. “Who’s ready for the best snack in the state of Texas?”
“Me!” Ellie said from high in the air.
It was a fairly quick trip to the Royal Diner, a journey once again filled with father-daughter chatter. The diner, with its ’50s style decor and informal atmosphere, was popular, but they managed to squeeze in and were soon settled in a red faux-leather booth with menus.
A tall man in uniform stopped by and greeted Nick. Harper recognized him as Sheriff Nathan Battle. They might not have met before, but she’d seen him on TV. After shaking the man’s hand, Nick introduced Harper to him as his wife. The sheriff never missed a beat, but his eyes widened.
“Good to meet you,” he said and stuck out his hand.
She took his hand and shook it. “You, too, Sheriff Battle.”
He turned back to Nick. “Don’t suppose you’ve heard any whispers about anyone being targeted by Maverick?”
Nick shot her a look, and Harper was relieved all over again that they’d managed to marry before M
averick had gotten wind of their situation and caused trouble.
“Not a word,” Nick said. “Wouldn’t you be the first to hear?”
Sheriff Battle shook his head. “Some of the information Maverick has been digging up has been...of a sensitive nature, so if he has a new victim, there’s no guarantee the victim will want law enforcement involved.”
“I’ll keep an ear out and let you know if I hear anything.”
“I’d appreciate that,” the sheriff said and turned to go. “By the way, you should try the curly fries. I might be biased, but Amanda Battle makes the best curly fries in the state.”
Nick laughed. “Will do, Sheriff.”
After the other man left, Nick glanced across the table, his daughter by his side and his eyes full of mischief. “I know what Ellie wants.”
It was clearly a game and he was including her, and Harper felt a rush of gratitude. “What does Ellie want?” she said, playing along.
“Ellie wants...a tall glass of pineapple juice.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before Ellie said, “No!” and giggled.
Harper grinned. “You know, Nick, I’m not sure she wants pineapple juice.”
He held up an index finger, as though he’d remembered something. “Then I know what she does want.”
“Oh, yeah?” Harper made an exaggerated serious face. “What’s that?”
Nick threw his hands out as if making a big announcement. “Iced tea. With lots of ice cubes.”
“No, Daddy,” Ellie responded, giggling louder. “I want—”
But Nick cut her off. “No, no, don’t tell me. Because I know she really wants a nice, big, cold glass of tomato juice.”
“No!” Ellie practically squealed in between laughs.
Nick looked down at his daughter, confused, then over to Harper. “That’s strange, because I thought they were her favorite things.”
“Milk shake,” Ellie said, in between gasps of laughter.
“Oh, right. A milk shake. Now I remember. But,” he said conspiratorially to Harper, “she doesn’t like them thick. The runnier the better for our Ellie.”
Ellie fell into fits of giggles again. “No!”
“No? Not runny?” When his daughter shook her head in wide sweeps, he shrugged. “Okay, when the waitress comes, I’ll order a double-thick milk shake for you.”
“Triple!”
“Triple?” he said, running a hand over his chin. “I’m not sure you can handle a triple-thick milk shake.”
“I can, Daddy!” She grabbed at his hand, as if that would reinforce her point. “I can!”
He picked up a menu and scanned it as he spoke, his tone suggesting it was the end of the matter. “All right. A triple-thick watermelon-flavored milk shake.”
“Banana!”
Finally, Nick burst into laughter. “Okay,” he said, looping an arm around Ellie’s shoulders and pulling her into his side. “Banana. And a bowl of curly fries. When the sheriff of the town tells us to try his wife’s curly fries, we’d best take heed.”
“Yay! I love you, Daddy.” She reached her little arms up, pulled his head down and planted a kiss on his cheek. For a fleeting moment, there was an expression of pure, unadulterated happiness on Nick’s face.
If there had ever been any doubt that his daughter meant the world to him, that look proved it without a shadow of a doubt.
The waitress came and took their orders—Ellie ordered her own milk shake, just to be safe—and Harper glanced over the menu. Her morning sickness hadn’t been too bad, but she wasn’t going to be able to stomach a triple-thick milk shake and greasy fries, so she ordered some plain toast and tea.
“Feeling okay?” Nick asked when the waitress left.
She nodded. “I’m fine. I just couldn’t handle all that rich food.”
Nick clearly didn’t want to ask about morning sickness in front of his daughter. He gave Harper a reassuring smile and started chatting with Ellie again. Which was the exact strategy Harper wanted to take as well—leave the grown-up stuff until later, and have another go at bonding with Nick’s little girl.
But what did three-year-olds talk about? She couldn’t ask Ellie what her career plans were, or if she’d tried the new restaurant in town. And all she knew about the little girl was that she loved her dad, swings and triple-thick milk shakes, none of which provided a new topic of conversation.
She glanced over at Nick’s daughter, looking for clues. She wore a bright red dress with white polka dots. Perhaps she’d chosen it this morning and especially liked the colors or pattern? It was worth a try.
When there was a break in conversation on the other side of the table, Harper said, “Ellie, that’s a lovely dress you’re wearing.”
The little girl smiled. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Ma’am? Harper cringed inside. God, she was going backward.
Nick dropped a quick kiss on the top of his daughter’s head. “You can call her Harper.”
“Okay,” Ellie said, but she didn’t repeat the name.
Once again Harper cast around for something to talk about and then noticed a little fluffy toy wedged on the bench seat between Ellie and her dad. It seemed to be an animal.
“Who’s that?” she asked, pointing at the toy.
Ellie pulled it out and tucked it up under her chin. “Annabel.”
Now that Harper could see it better, she made out that it was a stuffed dog. Harper practically sighed in relief—finally a topic she knew something about.
“I love dogs,” she said brightly.
Clearly having experience with insincere adults, Ellie looked skeptical, so Harper explained more. “I always had a dog growing up. There was Marshall the Great Dane, and Darcy the Labrador. Do you know what type of dog Annabel is?”
“A beagle,” Ellie said, her expression a little less suspicious now.
“Oh, I love beagles, but I’ve never met one before. Will you introduce me to Annabel?”
Ellie looked down at her little dog then whispered in its ear. She waited, as if listening, then looked back up at Harper.
“Annabel, this is Daddy’s friend Harper. Harper, this is my Annabel.” She held the toy across the table, but her grip said she wasn’t letting go.
Harper reached out and shook one of the little paws. “Lovely to meet you, Annabel. I hope we can become friends, too.”
Ellie put the dog up to her ear and nodded during the imaginary conversation, then turned back to Harper. “Annabel says okay. You can be friends.”
Harper’s heart lifted. It might only have been a small step—one with a stuffed toy, at that—but it was a step, and she’d take all she could get.
“Thank you, Annabel. I’d like that a lot.”
The waitress returned, bringing their food, and the conversation returned to center on the banter between father and daughter, but Harper didn’t mind. That small step of Ellie letting her toy dog be friends with her was enough to make her day.
As Nick bit into a bunch of fries, he met Harper’s gaze and grinned broadly. The shared moment of triumph was almost like a window into the future—where they might end up as they jointly parented the twins, and further, as their babies grew into children.
And it felt good.
* * *
That night, they grabbed some Chinese takeout on the way home and ate it while watching a movie. Nick was feeling pretty good about life. He’d spent the day with his little girl, and now he was on the sofa with Harper.
She’d tried so hard today to form a relationship with Ellie—and it had been more than just for appearances’ sake, he felt that deep in his bones. She’d wanted to create a bond with his daughter. His heart had swelled as he’d watched them talking at the diner. But he was feeling something completel
y different now when he looked at Harper...
The TV was on, playing a show he normally watched, but he couldn’t follow the storyline. Not with Harper’s body mere inches away. The occasional brush of her leg against his as she leaned forward to pick up her drink from the coffee table set every nerve on edge; the smell of her floral shampoo curled through his senses.
But she’d made it clear she didn’t want the complications that would arise from taking their intimacy any further, so he really needed to distract himself.
“Do you want dessert?”
“I’m not normally a big dessert eater, but maybe I could tonight.” She placed a hand on her stomach. “These babies must be hungry.”
“I’m not surprised they’re hungry. We Tates have big appetites.”
She laughed. “Go on, then. What options do you have?”
“There’s fruit in the bowl on the counter.”
“Nope,” she said. “That won’t satisfy these two. What else?”
He ran through the options in his mind. “I’m pretty sure there’s ice cream in the freezer.”
“Now that’s more promising. What flavor?”
“To be honest, I don’t remember.”
“Are you serious? You have ice cream in the house and you haven’t paid enough attention to it to know what type it is?”
“It doesn’t matter that much, does it? It’s all ice cream.”
She pressed a hand to her chest, as if aghast, but her eyes were twinkling. “The flavor is everything.”
He burst out laughing. She was laying it on thick, but she clearly cared about ice cream a hell of a lot more than he did. “Should we go and check?”
“I think we should.”
He stood and held out a hand. She put her smooth palm on his, and he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled her to her feet. For several heartbeats, he didn’t move, just held her hand, standing a little too close. His body heated, and her eyes widened a fraction, but before he could do something stupid like kiss her, he remembered that the purpose of offering dessert was to distract himself from wanting her.
He released her hand and stepped back. “I can guarantee one thing,” he said, trying for and luckily finding a light tone. “It’s not mint ice cream.”
Tempted by the Wrong Twin Page 6