“Daddy fell down,” Harper said. Creases had formed on her forehead.
Sitting on the couch, Mari pulled Harper onto her lap, holding her close. “Your daddy’s fine. We’ll see him in a few hours.”
All the while, she stared at the TV, watching as people rushed to Hank’s side, kneeling beside him, talking to him. The TV replayed the touchdown, and Mari gritted her teeth, frantic to see what was happening with Hank.
Finally the TV went back to Hank, who was being helped off the field, his left foot barely touching the ground as he hobbled onto the sidelines.
Sitting in silence as the game proceeded, Mari hardly watched. The only reason she kept it on was to see if the announcers gave some sort of update on Hank. They didn’t, and by the time the game was over and the Vipers had won, Mari was desperate for Hank to get home.
She remembered the way he’d kissed her good-bye the previous afternoon, and without conscious thought, she touched her lips with her fingers.
“I’m hungry,” Harper said.
Glad for something to do, Mari stood. “Me too. Will you help me scoop out a watermelon?”
Harper nodded, her eyes wide as she smiled.
The moment Mari heard the front door opening that evening, she turned to Harper. “Your daddy’s home.” They were sitting on the couch watching a princess movie, but they both jumped up and raced to meet him in the entry. Earlier, Mari had explained to Harper that her Daddy had a sore leg, so when they reached him, Harper stopped short of flinging herself at him like she usually did. Instead, she smiled up at him.
Mari’s instinct was to throw her arms around him, but she held back. Not only because Harper was there, but because she wasn’t sure how he was feeling.
“You’re home,” she said instead, certain her eyes broadcast her love and concern.
“Yep,” Hank said with a half-smile.
Mari stepped back so he could come inside, and as he passed her, his hand slid into hers for a moment. Love surged through her, and she followed him into the family room, noting his limp.
Seeing Mari and Harper brightened an otherwise less-than-stellar day. Yeah, the Vipers had won, and yeah, his touchdown had made all the difference. But pulling his hamstring sucked and he was angry at himself. Maybe if he’d done more conditioning on his legs he could have prevented it. Then again, maybe not. But now he would most likely miss the next couple of games.
“How are you?” Mari asked as she sat beside him, concern clear on her lovely face.
Right now he needed her, wanted to feel her in his arms, her lips on his.
“Harper,” he said. “Would you go into my room and find my phone?”
Harper nodded, then she ran out of the room.
Hank didn’t hesitate. He pulled Mari against him with a sly smile. “That should give us a minute or two.”
Mari exulted in the feel of his embrace, snuggling against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. After a few moments, she lifted her head and kissed him with all the yearning in her heart. Their kiss was filled with love and longing, and she never wanted it to end.
When she heard Harper coming down the stairs, she reluctantly put some space between them, although she couldn’t quite make herself release his hand. Not yet. But when Harper entered the room, she let go.
“I can’t find it,” Harper said.
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Hank said, then he patted the couch cushion beside him. “Come sit by me.”
Harper bounced onto the couch and wrapped her little arms around his arm before pressing her cheek against it. Mari was on his other side, and when Hank took her hand, she eagerly accepted it.
“This is just what I need,” he said.
“Tell me about your leg,” Mari said, not able to wait a moment longer.
“It’s an awesome leg,” Hank said with a smirk. “All muscle and power.”
Gently shoving his shoulder, she laughed. “Stop it.”
He chuckled. “It’s a strain, not a tear. Should take a couple of weeks to heal.”
“That’s not too bad, right?” She desperately hoped that was true.
“Could be a lot worse, that’s for sure.” He gazed at her a moment. “Good thing I have you to take care of me.”
Mari’s heart nearly burst with love as she nodded. “Are you hungry?” The need to take care of him was powerful and she would do anything to bring him comfort.
“I could eat.”
“I can do something about that.” She released his hand and stood, then smiled as she looked at Harper, who was snuggling against Hank as she watched the movie they’d left on. Mari’s gaze shifted to Hank. His lips curved in a smile that seemed to say he appreciated her being there for him.
With her heart brimming with love, she walked into the kitchen.
Chapter Thirty-One
Early the next morning, while Mari was making breakfast, Hank came into the kitchen.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said.
Harper was still in bed, so it was just the two of them. She turned around, and when he reached her, walking with obvious discomfort, she threw her arms around him and held him tight.
“Now that’s a nice way to be greeted,” he murmured into her ear.
She smiled, then pulled back and looked at him. A moment later he pressed his mouth to hers then slid his fingers through her hair.
Finally, he released her, his gaze unfaltering. “I want you to know how happy you make me. How glad I am that you’re in my life.”
Heart soaring at his words, she couldn’t stop smiling. “You make me happy too, Hank. So very happy.” That was such an understatement. He filled her with joy, excitement, love. She didn’t want to think about how hard it would be when London sent for her and Harper. It had been nearly two weeks since she and Harper had arrived in Sacramento. The filming London was doing now would be finished soon. Mari had put that completely out of her mind, instead focusing on the present, but now that the end was drawing closer, she couldn’t ignore it any longer.
Still, at that moment, she didn’t want to think about it.
“What are you making?” Hank asked with a glance at the stove.
“Oh!” Mari raced to the stove to flip the bacon over. Then she glanced at Hank over her shoulder as she laughed. “That was close.”
He walked up behind her and put his arms around her, then rested his chin on her head. Leaning back against his powerful chest, Mari closed her eyes and relished the moment. She needed to relish every moment, because she didn’t know how many more they would have.
“I was thinking of making omelets and smoothies.” She turned in his arms. “Does that sound good to you?” She loved cooking for him. More than she’d thought she would.
“That sounds perfect.” He smiled down at her before kissing her slowly and thoroughly.
The sound of Harper coming down the stairs reached them, and with terrible reluctance, Mari gently pushed Hank away.
He frowned, but he stepped back.
Mari busied herself with gathering the ingredients for the omelet, setting everything on the counter. “What’s on your schedule today?”
“Today,” Hank said as he picked Harper up and set her on a barstool before taking one himself. “Today I’ll get my hamstring worked on.”
“But today’s an easy day, right? Since you guys won?”
“Yeah. My main focus for the next couple of weeks will be getting my hamstring healed so I can get back on the field.”
Mari held back a grimace. She’d hating seeing Hank tackled, but it was even worse when she’d seen him nearly writhing in the end zone. Especially since she wasn’t there with him, couldn’t do anything to help him.
She whisked the eggs in a bowl, then looked up at him. “Does that mean you won’t be playing in Sunday’s game?”
At the frown on his face, she had her answer.
Hank hated that he had to miss any games at all, but he had to give his hamstring time to heal. “With a
ny luck, I’ll just miss one or two games.”
Mari nodded, but he could see she was worried.
“It’ll be fine.” He said that as much to comfort her as to comfort himself. He really did believe this would be a short-lived issue. He would be back on the field in no time.
After enjoying a hearty breakfast with his favorite ladies, he kissed Harper good-bye, then sent her upstairs to brush her teeth, taking the opportunity to hold Mari in his arms and kiss her until she melted against him.
His feelings for her had grown much deeper than he would have thought possible in such a short period of time. He was in love with her, plain and simple. But this thing with London and with Simone added a layer of complication that frustrated him beyond measure.
“I’ll be home after lunch,” he said to Mari, then he kissed her once more before walking out the door.
Mari was done with the painting of Harper, and she decided it would be a wonderful gift for Hank. She and Harper were in their art studio, Mari putting the finishing touches on the painting, and Harper doing more finger-paintings—her favorite form of art lately.
“Do you need more paint?” Mari asked as she looked Harper’s way.
“I need more pink,” Harper said as she used a finger to paint a flower.
Mari squirted a bit of pink paint on the paper, then pointed to a colorful winged creature on the right side of the paper. “What’s that?”
“A flutterby.”
Mari smiled. “A butterfly?”
“Uh-huh.” Harper dipped her finger in the pink paint and drew lines radiating out from the yellow center of a flower.
“I love the colors you chose for your butterfly. And the pink flower is very pretty.”
“Thank you.”
Mari smiled again, then she went back to her own easel. She wanted to surprise Hank with the painting, so she took the canvas off the easel and tucked it in a corner where it could dry without being seen. Then she put a fresh canvas up and thought about what to paint next.
All Hank wanted was to hang out with Mari and Harper. He pulled into his driveway, parked in his garage, and shut off the engine. His hamstring was tender from being worked over, but that did little to distract him from his typical Monday-after-a-game soreness.
Groaning as he climbed out of his car, he turned his mind to how he would spend the rest of the day. Though he would need to take time to study game film, he was eager to be with Mari and Harper, and when he didn’t see them in the house, he went straight to the game room/art studio.
They didn’t see him when he walked in, so he took a moment to observe Mari kneeling beside Harper, showing her how to use her fingertips to create orange, yellow, and red leaves on a tree.
Watching her, he thought about her selfless nature, her sweet way with Harper, her talent and passion for painting, and how beautiful she was both inside and out. She was an amazing woman, a woman he wanted in his life. All the time.
He could see a life with her.
The idea kind of shocked him, but the more he considered it, the more he wanted it. The more he wanted her.
Mari was the woman for him. He was sure of it.
Smiling, he watched them a moment longer, and when Mari lifted her head and saw him, her face lit up in a way that told him exactly how she felt about him.
“Hank,” she said before pushing herself to her feet.
His smile only grew as she approached him. She stopped several feet away, then glanced behind her at Harper.
“My hands are dirty,” Harper said, holding up her paint-covered hands.
“Let’s get you washed up,” she said, then she glanced at Hank with a smile before turning back to Harper. “Then you can give your daddy a big hug.”
“Okay.” Harper ran into the bathroom, and Hank waited while Mari helped her get cleaned up. When they were done, Harper raced to him, then stopped. “Does your leg hurt?”
He bent to kneel in front of her, but his injured hamstring made it painful, so he straightened. “Yeah, it does. But I’ll be okay. It will get better soon.”
He held out his hand and she placed her hand in his.
“Let’s sit on the couch,” he said. “Then you can give me a hug.”
“Okay.”
They walked together, and after he sat down and pulled Harper onto his lap for a hug, he looked at Mari. She smiled softly, then joined them, sitting beside him on the couch.
He liked this, and it felt so right. The three of them. Like they were a family.
But when he remembered that he and Mari had to keep their feelings a secret—even from Harper—he bit back a frown.
“Is your leg hurting?” Mari asked when she saw Hank’s lips tug downward.
“It’s fine,” he said, then he placed his hand on hers.
Worried that he wasn’t telling her something, she pushed a smile onto her face, then she heard his phone vibrate in his pocket.
He released her hand and took the phone out, then shook his head with a deep frown. “It’s Simone.” He swiped to answer, and after a brief conversation, he disconnected the call.
“What does she want?” Mari asked, unhappy that Simone was interrupting her time with Hank.
“She’s at the front door.”
“What?”
“Yeah. She came to see how I’m doing.”
“What are you going to do?”
He set Harper on the cushion next to him, then stood. “I’m going to talk to her.”
Mari watched him go, disappointment growing within her. If Hank couldn’t get rid of her, her day would be ruined. Hopeful he would manage to send her on her way, she asked Harper if she wanted to finish her finger-painting.
“I want to make the tree with my finger.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
Although she couldn’t see through the windows of the main house in the bright sunlight, Mari looked in that direction anyway. What was Simone saying to Hank? What would Hank do?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Hank braced himself to face Simone, then opened the front door.
“Oh, Hank.” True concern shone from Simone’s eyes, then she threw her arms around him. After a moment, she stepped back. “I was watching the game when you got hurt. It was awful to see you in pain.” She reached out and touched his arm. “How are you? How’s the leg?”
“It’s just a strained hamstring. Could’ve been worse.”
Her face smoothed out. “I’m glad.” She glanced behind him. “May I come in?”
Here we go. “I’m not really up for company.”
Astonishment filled her face. “I’m not company, Hank. Come on.” She chuckled. “Besides, I need to make sure Mrs. Stillman’s taking good care of you.”
Before he thought it through, he said, “Mrs. Stillman’s gone this week.” The moment the words left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.
“What? Why?”
Hank held back a sigh. “Her husband had foot surgery today.”
“Then it’s settled. I’m staying.” With a firmness that reminded him of London, she walked inside the house.
Thinking of London reminded him of the stakes, of the need to keep Simone on his side. Things between him and Mari were heating up. The thought of Simone reporting to London that he’d refused to let her in, refused to let her help him. Refused because Mari was there… No. He couldn’t take a chance on London disrupting Harper’s life just to spite him. Couldn’t let her rip Mari from his life. Not now.
Clamping his jaw, Hank took a moment to gather himself, softly closing the door before following Simone into the family room.
“What needs to be done?” she asked, her gaze shooting around the room.
“What do you mean?”
“You said Mrs. Stillman’s gone this week. Who’s doing the cooking? Who’s making sure you’re being taking care of?”
He almost blurted that Mari was doing those things, but he caught himself in time. “I’m a big boy, Simone. I can take care of m
yself for a week.”
She laughed. “You don’t cook, Hank. At least, I’ve never seen you cook.”
His eyebrows rose. “And you do?”
“Well, not often. But I can follow a recipe.”
“Are you offering to make dinner?”
“Maybe.” She drew the word out. “I also know how to call out for food.”
He laughed and shook his head, then he walked in her direction. His hamstring acted up, which made him limp.
“Oh, baby,” she said. “Here. Come sit down and put your feet up. I’ll get you something cold to drink.”
He had to get her out of here. If anyone was going to fuss over him he wanted it to be Mari. Not Simone.
“Sit down, Hank. Please. Let me take care of you.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but she put her hand up and turned her head away.
“I won’t hear any arguments from you. I’m here to help and that’s how it’s going to be.”
Biting back the urge to tell her to leave, he sat on the couch.
She took a pillow from the couch and placed it on the coffee table, then she lifted his left leg and set his foot on the pillow. “There. All set.” She smiled at him. “Be right back.”
He watched her go into the kitchen to grab him a drink, all the while he scrambled to come up with a way to get her to leave without making her suspicious.
Moments later she was back, a cold beer in her hand. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” he muttered before taking a swig. “I appreciate your help, Simone. I really do. But I’m fine. You don’t have to stick around.”
“But I want to, Hank.” She sank onto the couch beside him. “I love you. Don’t you know that?”
He didn’t love her. At this point he could hardly stand to be around her.
She looked around. “Where’s Harper?”
He knew what she was really asking. Where’s Mari? “She’s in the art studio. Painting.”
“Art studio?” Her perfectly groomed eyebrows slammed together. “Since when do you have an art studio?”
Blindsided (Fair Catch Series, Book Three) Page 14