Blindsided (Fair Catch Series, Book Three) Page 5
“How about you hit it to me?” he said to Harper.
“Okay.” Harper tried to copy what Hank had done—dropping the ball on the table and hitting it with the paddle—but couldn’t quite make it happen.
“Do you want me to help you?” Mari offered.
“I want Daddy to do it.”
“I have an idea,” he said. He folded the table so that one half was vertical while the other was flat, then he came around to stand behind Harper.
Mari stepped out of the way and watched as Hank wrapped his hand around Harper’s and helped her hit the ball against the vertical side of the table.
“Good job,” he said.
They did this for several minutes.
“I want to paint,” Harper said.
Hank laughed. “Okay. You paint while Mari and I play ping-pong.”
Harper jumped down from the chair and scampered to the easel where she picked up a brush and began a fresh painting.
Mari watched her, and when she turned back to Hank, he was putting the table back to its original position.
“Here you go,” he said as he handed her a paddle.
She took it from him and got into position on her side of the table.
“Ready?” He was grinning.
Nerves slid through her. She wanted to impress him, but she hadn’t played before.
He served the ball. She swung her paddle and connected. Proud of herself, she smiled, but when he immediately hit it back in her direction and she missed, her smile vanished.
Hank laughed. “I can’t believe you missed that.”
Mari shrugged. “Like I told you, I haven’t played before.”
“That’s one point for me.” He served again and Mari hit it back, he returned, and she hit it again. Then he returned the ball and she missed. “Two zero.”
The smile on his face showed how proud he was that he was winning. Mari shouldn’t have been surprised. Obviously, he had a competitive streak. Being in the NFL would require a competitive nature. Good thing she didn’t care one way or the other.
“Your turn to serve,” he said.
Mari tossed the ball up slightly, and after it bounced on the table in front of her, she hit it. Hank immediately returned it.
It didn’t take long before the score was eight to zero. Then it was eleven to zero.
“Do you want to play again?” he asked.
“You mean,” she said with a quirk to her lips, “do I want to get slaughtered?”
He chuckled. “We could do something else. Maybe a game of pool?”
Mari’s experience with pool was about the same as it was with ping-pong, but she was having fun and she didn’t care about winning. She looked at Harper, who was happily painting, then she turned back to Hank. “Sure.”
Rubbing his hands together, Hank smiled. “All right.”
Mari watched as Hank set up the table, corralling all the balls in the triangle. He put the triangle aside and handed her a pool cue. Though Mari had never played pool herself, she’d watched others play, so she had a basic idea of how it worked.
“I’ll break,” he said as he chalked his cue. Seconds later he lined up his shot and hit the white ball. The balls shot in all directions, but one solid ball rolled into a nearby pocket. “Looks like I’m solids and you’re stripes.”
As he lined up his next shot, Mari admired his form, not to mention his amazingly fit body. The way he was good at these games was sexy too. She just hoped he wouldn’t be too turned off by her lack of skill.
Then she reminded herself that she was merely the nanny. He was playing with her because she was the only adult in the room, not because he had any romantic interest in her. She needed to enjoy herself while it lasted. Soon enough, she and Harper would go back to Los Angeles.
Hank hit another ball into a pocket. He resisted calling his shots—no need to show off, even though he was tempted to. Then he hit another one in. On his next try, the ball bounced off the cushion and didn’t go into a pocket.
“Your turn,” he said to Mari, curious to see how she’d do. If her skill at ping-pong was any indication, he might have to help her. The thought made him smile.
Here we go.
Mari chalked her cue, taking her time, giving her heart a chance to settle into a normal rhythm. Knowing Hank was watching her didn’t help.
Holding the cue with her right hand, she tried to rest the narrow end on her left fingers the way Hank had done, but it didn’t feel natural, and as she lined up her shot, she knew she was only going to embarrass herself.
Hesitating, she bit her lip and glanced at him. His gaze was lasered-in on her, and at the look in his eye, heat burst through her. Why was he looking at her like that? Like she was the only thing of interest in the room. It thrilled her, but it also made her more nervous.
“Do you want me to help you?” he asked.
A million thoughts raced through her head—if he helped her she would do better, but what would helping her entail? Maybe she wanted to show him she could do this on her own, but since she’d never played pool before, chances were good that she would make a fool of herself. What if she ripped the felt on his pool table in her attempt to impress him? That would be even worse.
She straightened and turned to him. “Yeah.”
One side of his mouth lifted in a smile as he sauntered over to where she stood. He held out his hand and she gave him the pool cue. “Hold the cue like this.” He bent over the table and showed her how to position her left hand. He made it look so easy. He stood and handed her the cue. “You try it.”
She bent over the table and set the cue on her fingers, but it still didn’t feel quite right.
He chuckled behind her. “You’re too tense, Mari.”
That’s because he was standing so close to her, watching her. Suddenly he was all around her, his body pressed against hers as he leaned over her, his right hand covering hers.
With a sudden intake of breath, she told herself to calm down. He was just trying to help her.
“Like this, Marigold.” His voice was low and deep in her ear as his left hand adjusted the fingers on her left hand into the proper position, and hearing him use her full name as he was pressed against her made her heart thunder with longing.
What was he doing? This felt fantastic, but dang, he was going too far. He needed to take a step back. A giant step. Maybe all the way out the door and into a cold shower.
But he couldn’t make himself do it. The scent of flowers was all around him, and her body was soft and pliable as he adjusted the fingers on her left hand. He liked this. With a glance at Harper to make sure she was still occupied with painting, he focused back on Mari. That was a mistake. The pulse by her throat was visible, and he desperately fought the overwhelming desire to press his lips to her throat and work his way to her mouth.
Knowing this was getting way, way out of hand, he stepped back.
“Try it now,” he said, his voice husky.
“Okay,” she murmured, and then she used her cue to hit the cue ball. It gently hit a striped ball, which rolled a few inches and stopped. Mari turned and looked at him, her grey eyes watching him, her face alluring. “I guess it’s your turn.”
He nodded.
Mrs. Stillman walked into the room. “Dinner will be ready in five minutes, Hank. Where would you like to eat?”
Thank goodness. A distraction. “Outside.”
“Very good.” Then she turned and walked away.
“Time for dinner, Harper,” he said, forcing his eyes away from Mari and to his daughter. “Let’s wash up.”
Now he just had to get through dinner with Mari, and then after Harper went to bed, he would go out with Simone. He only hoped that would cure him of this insane attraction to Mari.
Chapter Ten
Mari helped Harper into her pajamas, her mind on Hank. Dinner had given her a chance to gather herself. He’d kept his attention on Harper, and as she’d watched him interact with her and she’d thou
ght about the way it had felt when he’d pressed against her while showing her how to play pool. She fantasized that he would invite her to play pool again, maybe after Harper went to bed. The idea thrilled her, and she kept waiting—and hoping, so desperately hoping—that he would suggest it.
But they finished dinner without him saying a word about that. The only thing he’d promised was that he would come upstairs and tuck Harper in when she was ready for bed. In fact, he’d said he needed to work in his office for a bit, and then he’d come up at eight.
It was now seven thirty. Mari sent London a text to let her know Harper was ready to FaceTime, and a few minutes later Mari’s phone rang. She answered it, and there was London. It was three-thirty in the morning where she was, and she looked tired. Even so, she was as gorgeous as ever.
That’s Hank’s ex-wife. Don’t forget that.
After greeting her, Mari gave the phone to Harper. She half-listened to the conversation, her mind refusing to stop thinking about Hank. The way his clothes fit his body, the look on his face when she’d turned around after trying to hit the ball on the pool table, the way it felt to have him so close to her.
“Daddy teached Mari how to play pool,” she heard Harper telling London.
“He did?”
“Yeah. And Mari got a funny look on her face.”
Oh boy. Harper noticed more than I thought.
“Let me talk to her, baby girl.”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Harper handed the phone to Mari, then picked up her favorite doll to finish putting the doll’s pajamas on.
“What’s Harper talking about?” London asked, her eyes slightly narrowed.
“We were…we were just hanging out in the game room.” Deflect, deflect. “We set up an art studio out there. You should see the beautiful paintings Harper created.”
“That’s great. But what about playing pool? Hank teaching you?” Her head tilted. “What did Harper mean you had a funny look on your face?”
Mari’s mind went blank.
London’s eyebrows shot up. “Nothing’s going on between the two of you, is it?”
“No! No no no.” Mari forced a laugh. “This is only my third day.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what Harper’s talking about. Probably the embarrassed look I had when I did so bad trying to play pool.”
London’s lips compressed. “I don’t know why you’re playing pool with my ex-husband, Mari. You’re there to tend to Harper. Nothing more. That’s why I hired you. I’d hate to…change our arrangement.”
The subtle threat was like a slap in the face. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Like I said, we were just hanging out. Harper was painting and…” There was no point in trying to defend herself. “I’m sorry, London. Truly.”
London smiled. “All right. Let me say good-night to Harper.”
Mari gave the phone to Harper once more, and after they’d said their good-byes, Mari ended the call and put the phone away.
“Read me a story, please, Mari,” Harper said.
Glad to do something that might take her mind off of Hank, Mari smiled. “Which story do you want me to read?”
Harper went to the small bookshelf tucked in the corner and pulled out her favorite princess story, then carried it back to Mari. They climbed on her bed and snuggled against the pillows as Mari opened the book and began reading.
Ten minutes later a knock sounded at the door.
“Daddy!” Harper squealed as she launched herself off of the bed and toward the door, then she flung it open and jumped up and down until Hank swept her into his strong arms.
Mari watched all this from the bed, her heart pounding and her mind racing. As much as she was attracted to Hank—and she was beyond attracted—she had to squelch it and squelch it hard.
Mari looked awfully comfortable sitting on Harper’s bed and Hank had to suppress the impulse to join her.
“Tuck me in, Daddy,” Harper said, and he tore his gaze away from Mari and focused on his daughter.
“That’s why I’m here, Princess Pink Rose.”
He carried her to the bed, and Mari climbed off, standing on the opposite side. After pulling back the covers, Hank laid Harper on the sheets.
Mari leaned over the bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, Harper. See you in the morning.”
Harper smiled at her. “Goodnight, Mari.”
Mari threw him a tentative smile, then she left. Watching the door close behind her, he wondered why her expression seemed downcast.
Pushing aside his question, he read Harper a story, then tucked her in and left, going into his room to get ready for his date with Simone.
Mari was having a hard time getting into the book she was reading. After rereading the same sentence for the fourth time, she gave up, setting her eReader on the table beside the bed and leaning against the pillows.
What had London meant when she’d said she’d hate to have to change their arrangement? Would she fire her? Would she make them go back to Los Angeles even though London was out of the country? Would she do that just to keep Mari away from Hank?
Why was Mari even thinking like that? There was nothing between her and Hank. Hank was Harper’s father, for heaven’s sake. Not a romantic prospect.
Sighing, Mari threw back the covers and decided to go into the kitchen and get a glass of ice water. Wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top, her face scrubbed clean of make-up, Mari made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. She took a glass out of the cupboard, went to the refrigerator, then pressed the button to get crushed ice. The machine rumbled as the ice maker crushed the ice and dispensed it into her glass, and then she filled it with water.
“I wondered who was in here,” a voice said behind her.
Mari jumped, nearly dropping her glass as she spun around to find Hank standing there looking incredibly handsome in a green button-up shirt that emphasized his eyes, along with a pair of black slacks.
Was he going out? At this hour? Where was he going? Who was he going with?
Wait. It was none of her business, but jealousy slammed through her nonetheless and she had to know.
“Sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“That’s okay.”
Hank noticed she’d removed all of her make-up, which made her look eighteen. But she wasn’t anywhere near being a teenager. She was only a few years younger than he was. And even though she wore a simple pair of shorts and a tank top, she was as stunning as ever. More than usual, actually. She looked innocent and vulnerable.
He needed to turn his thoughts in another direction. Immediately.
Her clear-eyed gaze swept over him. “Are you…going out?”
Maybe this would be a good time to mention that he was seeing someone. Maybe it would be a step to cool his attraction to her.
“Yes. Simone and I are going out. I’m sure you’ll meet her soon enough. We’ve been dating for a few months.” Was that really necessary? Yes. Yes it was.
The open expression on Mari’s face dimmed. Or maybe that was his imagination.
“Oh. Well, have fun.”
I doubt I’ll have as much fun as we had in the game room earlier.
The thought jumped into his head, taking him by surprise. But he shoved it away quickly and forcefully. “Thanks.”
“Good-night.” Then she turned and walked away.
Gaze going to her retreating body, Hank enjoyed the view, then he spun around and walked toward the door.
Dismay flooded Mari. Hank had a girlfriend. Why was she surprised? A man like him? Undoubtedly, he had to fight them off.
Stop. Just stop. You can’t have him anyway.
Still, when she got into her room she immediately Googled “Hank Parson and Simone” on her phone and got several hits. Her name was Simone Greenwood and she was stunning—tall, slender, blonde, gorgeous. Mari didn’t expect anything less.
And Hank was going to see her right now.
How serious were he and Simone? He’d said they’d been dating several months. Not that it mattered. Even if he was single, he was out of reach.
She turned off the light and closed her eyes, but the only image in her mind was Hank Parson.
Chapter Eleven
Mari woke early the next morning—Saturday—her mind immediately going to Hank. Had he already left for the day? Half-hoping he had and half-hoping he hadn’t, she went into Harper’s room. The little girl was still asleep, so Mari showered and got ready, but by the time she was done, Harper had arisen and was no longer in her room.
Wanting to make certain Harper was being watched over, Mari hurried down the stairs, and as she rounded the corner into the family room, she crashed right into Hank.
“Whoa!” he said as he grasped her arms to keep her from falling.
Pleasure bounded through her, but when she pictured him with the beautiful Simone, jealousy replaced the pleasure.
“Where’re you going in such a hurry?” A smirk curved his mouth. “Hungry for breakfast?” He released her arms, and for the briefest of moments she wondered what he would do if she threw her arms around him and kissed him.
Scorching heat blazed across her cheeks, and she turned away so he wouldn’t see. “Just looking for Harper.”
Hank chuckled. “Mrs. Stillman made French toast. Harper’s favorite.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “There’s plenty more if you’re hungry.”
She nodded. “Great.”
The way she looked this morning—so fresh and vibrant—did something interesting to his heart. When he’d caught her to keep her from falling he’d wanted to drag her into his arms. But that would be all kinds of wrong.
He thought about his date with Simone the night before. They’d gone dancing, and though he’d enjoyed himself, his mind had kept going to Mari. His plan to use his date with Simone to cleanse Mari from his thoughts hadn’t exactly worked. In fact, it had had the opposite effect. He’d kept thinking about playing pool with Mari, wishing she was the one in his arms, the one he was dating.