9. Harper

“I said no,” Piper screamed. She pushed away while simultaneously landing the perfect kick to my shin.

I’d just finished braiding her hair to keep it from knotting throughout the day. That was normally the worst part of the morning routine. Apparently not today.

She kicked again, landing a hit to the same spot.

I winced at the pain. Another day, another bruise. It was exhausting, this relationship I had with my daughter. We’d come far over the last two years, but the road that led to a happily functioning adult felt miles long some days. More often than not, I felt like I was failing at this mom life. Every time I saw a mother give her daughter a hug, I was reminded of exactly how different our relationship was. I tried not to compare. This was about her, not anyone else. I had to remember that. But with each step forward, every time I thought things were getting better, a change or an adjustment would set us back again.

Knowing today had the potential to be awful had kept me up, tossing and turning, last night. Regardless of how badly I wanted today to go smoothly, the possibility of disaster made the acid burn of stress rumble more fiercely in my stomach and claw up my throat.

“We have to get dressed. You’re going to Lang Field today. Remember? We talked about this.” I pulled my Tums out of the pocket of my dress pants and popped two into my mouth. Once I’d put the roll away, I crouched down, holding Piper’s shirt out. “Let’s get dressed really quick.”

“I want to be alone,” she screamed. She lashed out and grasped my arm, her nails, desperately in need of a trim, biting into my flesh.

On instinct, I pulled back. As I did, it caused her nails to drag along my skin, leaving red scratches along the inside of my forearm.

“Piper,” I scolded evenly as I stepped back and gave her space. “ Stop .”

“I want to be alone,” she repeated, this time without the aggression. That was something, at least.

“Mom,” Sam called from the family room, where he was already dressed and ready to head over to day care. Although he was nervous about being in a new place, he was excited to see Grey.

Piper, on the other hand, couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that it was Monday, since she didn’t have school. Teacher in-service days and school holidays were the bane of my existence. Change didn’t come easy in our house, so situations like this, where not only did the kids not have school, but they were starting at a new day care, were a struggle, no matter how much I prepared her.

The Tums had tempered the burn in my esophagus, but my stomach rumbled. I needed to eat before I left. I’d fed the kids, but while they were eating, I’d jumped into the shower and had gotten dressed.

“Mom, come here,” Sam called again. He’d eaten, but he probably wanted another cup of almond milk. We’d been going through more than a gallon a week lately.

“I’ll be right there,” I hollered. Then I refocused on Piper. We had to get a move on, or I’d be late for work. “You have five minutes before it’s time to pick one shirt and a pair of pants,” I warned.

In response, she put her headphones over her ears and turned away from me.

Reining in my frustration, I set the alarm that would buzz when it was time for her to get dressed, then left her alone in the bedroom. This method didn’t always work, but I was crossing my fingers that it would do the trick today.

By the time I’d gotten home from Lang Field on Saturday, I’d had a welcome email from Little Fingers sitting in my inbox. After googling the program and looking into their New Jersey locations, I had to begrudging admit that I couldn’t turn down their offer. So I had filled out the paperwork. Then I’d spoken with Dylan Machon last night. She had been lovely. Although the program was set up for employees of Langfield Corp, she had been understanding of my position and had agreed that I could pay the New Jersey rate for my two children. Once Dylan had assured me that transportation between their facility and Piper’s school was available, I finally resigned myself to sending the kids to Little Fingers. At least for the time being.

Dylan had been so kind and helpful. The last thing I wanted to do was show up late on day one.

“Mom,” Sam called again.

“I’m coming,” I said as I hustled down the hall. When two men came into view, I pulled up short, and my heart took off at a run. It only took a moment to place them, and my fear was quickly replaced by annoyance. “Why are you here?”

Kyle smirked. “Glad to see you’re in a better mood today, Crabby.”

My doorbell had been broken for quite a while, and when I was in one of our bedrooms, it was impossible to hear visitor’s knock. Even so, these guys hadn’t just opened the door and walked in.

With my hands on my hips, I frowned at my son. “You are not allowed to let strange people in without me.”

“They aren’t that weird.” He shrugged.

Both men chuckled, but I wasn’t the least bit amused.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced,” Cam said.

Kyle chuckled, his eyes dancing. “No we’re not.”

Cam and I huffed in unison.

Kyle just shook his head. His hair was damp, making his blond highlights stand out more than normal.

I surveyed the perfect streaks. They were even more annoying when they accompanied the “I didn’t bother to shave” look he was sporting.

“I’m not sorry.” Kyle’s lips were pulled tight. “I came because I figured Piper would have a hard time this morning, knowing she was going to a new place. I thought it might be easier if her favorite baseball player was here to get her out the door.”

That almost had me softening, but then he had to go and ruin it by opening his mouth again.

“Plus, I didn’t want you to flake on Dylan.”

Rage clouded my vision as I shot daggers at him. “I don’t flake on anything.” For all my flaws—and there were plenty—being a flake wasn’t one of them. “And asking if I wanted help would have been the right way to handle things.” Not that I wanted to admit that having his help could be a godsend.

“You would have said no.” Kyle shrugged again. “And you don’t have a car, so Cam will drop the kids and me at the stadium, and then he’ll take you to work.”

Cam shifted on his feet, grimacing.

With a sharp breath in, I crossed my arms. “We live in a city. Public transportation and Uber are both a thing.”

Kyle tossed his arms in the air, the move displaying a script tattoo on the underside of his bicep. “This is exactly what I mean,” he said, turning to Cam. “She’s ridiculous. Most people would be thanking us for making their day easier. But Harper? She wants it to be hard. Make it make sense .”

Cam chuckled, though he still looked uncomfortable. “Like I said, you should have called.”

“I don’t have her number.” He whipped around and motioned for me to step closer. “Which reminds me, give me your number.”

My brow shot up, but I held firm. That was not happening. “No.”

“No?” With a huff, he looked from me to Cam and back again, his eyes wide with disbelief. “ No ?” he repeated, as if the sentiment were a foreign concept to him.

Had anyone ever not given the great Kyle Bosco their number when he asked? Probably not.

“No.” I straightened and pulled my shoulders back, then addressed Cam. “Thank you for coming. I’m sorry to have wasted your time, but I’ve got an Uber on the way, so we’re all set.”

“Mr. Kyle,” Sam cut in before the man in front of me could argue. “We have your picture on our wall. Do you want to come see?”

“He doesn’t want to?—”

“Yes, I do,” Kyle said, lifting his chin. The damn man. I swore he’d say yes to anything, just to spite me.

“Yes!” Sam lunged at him and grasped his arm. His little hand barely fit around Kyle’s wrist as he pulled the very willing man down the hallway.

The gray Revs shirt Kyle wore pulled so tight against his muscular back, each ripple of muscle was visible from where I stood. He was too big, too broad, and too damn good-looking as he moved down our small hallway. I wished I hadn’t noticed. Because, for as obvious as his looks were, it was just as clear that he didn’t fit here in our apartment.

Like most professional athletes, Kyle was larger than life. And nothing about my life was more than average. Not my modest two-bedroom apartment or the basic Ikea furniture. Not the Legos scattered on top of the coffee table or the magnetic track that took up all the space between the couch and the wall. Even the dinosaurs that peppered the small four-person table in the dining room were average. Plastic and generic and inexpensive. The place was a mess.

I sighed as I took in the space, but with a shake of my head, I reminded myself that impressing Kyle Bosco was the last thing I should be worried about. I didn’t care what he thought.

“Do you mind if I set this down?” Cam lifted a beverage holder I hadn’t noticed. Three of the spots held white coffee cups.

“Not at all,” I said, nodding at the tiny galley kitchen. “You can put it on the counter.”

With an elbow, he switched the light on. Then set the cardboard carrier on the tan Formica and surveyed the organized space.

At least this room wasn’t a mess.

“Do you take your coffee like a dessert?” He pointed to one white cup. “Or black?” He pointed to the other two, both sporting sleeves.

“Black.”

“The right way.” Laughing, he pulled out one cup with a sleeve and held it out to me.

I took a step back and raised a hand. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

“You can and you should.” Cam moved closer, cup in hand. “In the two years I’ve worked for him, I’ve discovered that Kyle is a lot easier to deal with after a good dose of caffeine. And if I were you, I’d just choose your battles and cancel the Uber. He’s not going to let it go until you and the kids are strapped into the car.”

“Is that so?” I took the cup. “You know, you have my number. I’m surprised you didn’t give it to bossy pants in there.”

Cam and I had spoken on the phone and via texts a few times this weekend. Between his help with my car and his updates—along with Hannah’s and Zara’s—on their fix Harper’s standing with Boston campaign, and details regarding Little Fingers, there had been plenty to talk about.

He propped himself up against the counter and pulled out the second cup of black coffee. “Collecting numbers from women for him isn’t part of my job description.”

I snorted. The idea that Kyle would want my number in that way was absurd. I was a single mom with two kids and no time. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d gotten toothpaste on my purple blouse this morning but had forgotten to change it. That was fitting.

I set my coffee on the counter and wet a paper towel. “He doesn’t want my number. Not really. He’s just being forced to fix the mess he made with that stupid comment.”

Eyes narrowed, Cam sipped his coffee. “Yeah,” he eventually said. “I’m just going to say it. That’s the biggest lie I’ve heard this morning, and I heard Kyle swear that calling before showing up here wasn’t necessary.”

“Nice try.” I snorted as I pulled at the satin fabric of my top, working on the toothpaste spot.

“Piper’s getting dressed, and then we’ll be ready.” Kyle came trotting into the kitchen just as I dropped the paper towel onto the counter. “She and Sam are both excited for the day.”

Head tilted, I assessed him. Day-old scruff on his strong jaw, lips turned up in a smile, and brown eyes sparkling like he’d just won a prize. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Piper and I went through our schedule for the day to make sure she was secure and understood it.”

The acid was back and rising in my throat. “What do you mean ‘our’?”

“I’m hanging out at Little Fingers today so I can help with the transition.” He glanced at the remaining cup in the holder. “This one mine?”

Cam nodded.

“You’re staying at the day care?” I straightened, crossing my arms. “Because if you say that to her, then you’re committed.” The meltdown she’d have if he didn’t would be epic.

“Of course I’m staying,” Kyle scoffed.

“Why?”

He shot an annoying grin my way. “Kid rearing is just one of my many skills.”

Cam, who’d been taking a sip of his coffee, sputtered and choked. Coughing, he pounded a fist against his chest.

With a roll of his eyes, Kyle pulled the lid off the only cup without a sleeve and tossed it onto the counter. That wicked grin was back in an instant. “You drink your coffee black?”

How did he know that? Oh. That’s right. Cam had given two options. “You like dessert coffee, I take it?”

He shuffled across the kitchen and stopped in front of me. “Black coffee is the worst. Don’t knock this until you try it, Crabby. A little sugar might actually make you smile.”

Lips pressed together, I shook my head.

“I dare you to try it. I bet you can’t take a sip and not smile.” He held the cup up and cocked a light brow.

Huffing, I took another sip of my plain black coffee, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at him over the top.

“What’s the matter?” he teased. “Scared I’m right?” His eyes sparkled with the challenge.

“For Pete’s sake.” I yanked the cup from his hand and took a sip. The sweetness of marshmallow hit first, then creamy chocolate, followed by the familiar yum of coffee. Jeez, this really was dessert in a cup. And I’d love another sip.

“See? Good, isn’t it?” Kyle took another step, boxing me in between his body and the counter.

He was so close I could feel the heat radiate off his massive chest. The sensation was almost foreign to me, since it had been over a year since I’d been this close to anyone but my kids.

“It’s okay,” I forced out. My mouth had gone dry, and without thinking, I took a second sip. We avoided sugar in this house, along with gluten, dairy, and red dye. It was better for Piper. But damn, this drink was really good.

Kyle’s smile grew as he watched me take that second sip. “Don’t lie to me. You love the dessert coffee.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t respond.

He lifted a hand, but instead of taking his coffee cup from me, he brushed the rough pad of his thumb across the bow of my lip.

Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t control the goose bumps that broke out across my entire body.

“You’ve got a little whipped cream right there,” he mumbled as he pulled his hand away. For a moment, his thumb hovered between us, that dab of whipped cream a tease. His eyes were locked on me as he slowly moved it to his own mouth.

My heart pounded at the sight of his tongue peeking out between his lips, and when he licked the cream off his finger, my breath caught. How was it possible that I could feel his tongue on my skin, despite the distance between us?

“Delicious.” The words were barely a whisper, but they sent a shiver down my spine, nonetheless.

He watched me for a moment, his eyes flashing with heat, before he blinked and spun away.

As he strode across the room, he cleared his throat. “See, Cam? Everyone loves a good morning dessert in a cup.”

“Right,” Cam said, though the way his lips pulled down belied the sentiment.

I set Kyle’s cup on the counter and stepped away, feeling entirely too flustered. What had just happened? I didn’t want to like Kyle, so what the heck was I doing? Kyle moved past me to the coffee on the counter. He fixed his cup with its lid again and took it with him as he exited the kitchen.

“I have decided that I am willing to go to Lang Field today.” Piper appeared, wearing her pink T-shirt, silver leggings, and bright blue Crocs.

“Great,” Kyle said from where he’d retreated into the living room. “We’ve got the car out front. No need for the Uber.”

“Ubers smell,” Piper agreed.

With a sigh, I hung my head. I gave up. This morning’s debacles had been more than enough. Cam was right. I had to choose my battles. I’d ride with them to Little Fingers and I could Uber from there.

“Okay, everyone out,” I called, grabbing my purse and coffee from the counter. As I stepped into the hall, I lifted my coffee to take a sip and was shocked at the burst of flavor that hit my tongue.

I froze.

“Everyone deserves some time to indulge,” Kyle whispered. His warm hand covered my shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. Then he followed the kids into the elevator, cup of coffee in hand.

Had he really switched our cups? But I thought he hated black coffee?