Blindsided (Fair Catch Series, Book Three) Page 8

  “What’s wrong?” she called down.

  Hank looked up, and when his eyes met hers, she had to work to stay where she was. “I’m a little confused about how to play this game.”

  Smiling, she shook her head. “It’s a very simple game, Hank.”

  He grinned up at her. “Can you show me how to play? Evidently I don’t want to choose the basket or the dog or the bird.”

  With a soft chuckle, she descended the stairs, fully aware that Hank was watching her every step. When she reached the coffee table, she sat beside Harper. “Sounds like we need to show your daddy how to play Hi Ho Cherry-O.”

  Harper giggled and looked at Hank.

  “What color are you, Harper?” she asked.

  “Green.”

  Lifting her gaze to Hank’s, Mari asked, “And you?”

  “Blue.”

  “All right. I’ll be red. Harper goes first.”

  Harper flicked the spinner and it spun around and around, stopping on the wedge with two pieces of fruit on it. Harper removed two green apples from her tree and dropped them in her basket.

  “Oh,” Hank said. “I see how this works now.”

  Mari couldn’t resist. “I’m glad it’s not too complicated for you. I know how much you like to win.”

  One side of his mouth quirked up as his eyes bored into hers. “We need to have a rematch.”

  Memories of their very brief game of pool filled her mind and her pulse fluttered. Then she remembered the red line she’d decided to create. The line delineating her role as nanny and his role as her employer’s ex-husband. A rematch was out of the question. “We’ll see,” she heard herself say.

  His eyes twinkled, then he looked at Harper. “Whose turn is it now?”

  “Your turn!”

  Hank spun the spinner, and it landed on the wedge with one fruit. “What do I do now?”

  “You take one of your blueberries off the tree and put it in your basket,” Harper said.

  “Okay.” He did as she’d instructed him. “Now what?”

  “It’s Mari’s turn!” Harper bounced up and down.

  They played three more games, Harper winning two, and Mari winning one.

  Hank was having too much fun to care that he’d lost every game. It was all chance anyway. If it was a strategy game, he would feel differently about losing. The important thing was that Harper was having fun. He also liked that Mari had joined them. She seemed in better spirits now. Maybe because more time had passed since Simone had left?

  Not sure what to make of her mood changes, especially if they were related to Simone, Hank looked her way. She had turned to Harper, and he took advantage of her focus on his daughter to study her face—the curve of her jaw, the way her long lashes curled, the perfect tilt of her nose, the way her lips begged for him to minister to them with his own.

  The thought of kissing her sent a jolt through him, a jolt of pleasure that he had to suppress. Unless he was ready to admit to her that he was intrigued by her, he had to stop letting his thoughts run wild.

  Was he ready to admit the way he was feeling? Was his attraction to her strong enough? He wasn’t sure. If London knew how he felt toward Mari, she would be livid. Was Mari worth earning London’s wrath? And what would that mean for Harper? Surely London would fire Mari on the spot. Harper would be crushed. He had to get himself under control.

  “Do you want to play again?” Mari asked Harper. “Give your daddy a chance to win?”

  When Mari slid her gaze toward him, Hank’s chest tightened with dismay. The more he considered giving up any chance of something more with her, the deeper his disappointment grew. Which made him want her all the more.

  Harper shook her head. “I don’t want to play a game. I’m hungry.”

  “It’s a little early for dinner,” Hank said, forcing away his despair. “But maybe you can have a snack.” He looked at Mari for confirmation.

  “How about some grapes?” Mari asked.

  “Okay.”

  “While you two have a snack, I’ll be working in my office.” He stood, not wanting to leave them, but he needed to review the previous day’s game. “I’ll see you ladies at dinner.”

  When dinner time rolled around, Mari led Harper to the outside eating area. The evening was pleasant, so she knew Hank would want to eat out there. The place settings on the table confirmed her guess.

  It was funny that after such a short time she could guess what he was going to do, felt like she knew him already. Except that maybe she didn’t. She recalled what she’d overheard him saying to Simone earlier. Was that the real Hank Parson? Or was the real Hank Parson the person he was when it was just the three of them—Mari, Hank and Harper? Why would he be two different people anyway?

  Uncertain what to believe, she helped Harper into her chair just as Hank walked into the dining area, his smile only highlighting how handsome he was.

  Disconcerted by her array of emotions, Mari turned her attention to Harper, making sure she had what she needed.

  “What have you two been up to?” he asked.

  “I played on the swing,” Harper said. “Mari pushed me.”

  At the mention of her name, she lifted her gaze to see Hank watching her, his eyes intent.

  “That sounds like fun,” he said. “Maybe we can all play together after dinner.”

  “Yay!” Harper said.

  Mari played it cool, not responding at all, just sliding into her seat. She shouldn’t encourage him. Not when she didn’t know what his agenda was.

  Hank sat as well, and moments later Mrs. Stillman rolled out a cart loaded with a grilled chicken salad, piles of freshly baked rolls, corn on the cob, and steamed broccoli and carrots.

  “Those smell heavenly,” Mari said when Mrs. Stillman set the rolls near her.

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Stillman said. “There are plenty more.” After she set all the food on the table, she wheeled the cart back into the house and they filled their plates.

  As they ate they talked about mundane things, and as dinner drew to a close, Mari became nervous. Did Hank plan on having them all hang out in the game room? Did she want to? To be honest, she did.

  Despite her confusion over the contrast between what he’d said to Simone and the way he was so kind to her, she found him undeniably appealing and she loved every minute she spent with him. Still, if he gave any indication that he was interested in her, she would be forced to press him to explain why he’d said those things about her to Simone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Who’s up for a game of ping-pong?” Hank asked as they walked into the game room after dinner.

  “I am, I am,” Harper shouted as she jumped up and down.

  Mari smiled at Harper’s enthusiasm, but she was on edge. Dinner had been routine, the conversation relaxing, but now they were in this space, this room where things had seemed to heat up between her and Hank several days earlier. And she hadn’t forgotten London’s warning. The one she’d given after Harper had mentioned that Hank had taught Mari how to play pool. The one where London had said she would hate to have to make other arrangements. Mari would hate that too. Being at Hank’s house had been more amazing than she’d ever imagined and she had no doubt that Harper was happy here too. She couldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.

  And yet…yet. When she looked at Hank, saw what a good father he was, felt his generosity first hand, saw what a good man he was, what a hard worker, not to mention how good-looking, how fit, how masculine… Mari’s pulse fluttered with a longing she’d never known before.

  “All right,” Hank said. “Harper’s first.”

  Mari felt his eyes on her, and when she looked his way, he raised his eyebrows. “I think Mari should help Harper.”

  Desperately trying to shove down her yearning, Mari forced a laugh. “Maybe you’ve forgotten. I didn’t score a single point when we played before.”

  He grinned. “I’ll go easy on you. I promise.”

  The to
ne of his voice sent goosebumps flaring across her skin. Why did she have to be so enamored of him? Driving her feelings aside, she said, “All right.” Then she helped Harper onto the chair that Hank put into place. Standing behind her, she waited for Hank to serve the ball. “Do you want me to help you?” she asked Harper.

  Harper picked up the paddle. “No. I do it myself.”

  Smiling, Mari said, “Okay.”

  Hank gently served the ball, and Harper swung. And hit it. But it bounced off the net and rolled to the floor.

  “I hit it, Mari!” Harper said as she turned around with a big smile.

  “You sure did,” she said as she gently squeezed Harper’s shoulders, then she looked at Hank, whose lips had tilted into a smile.

  Harper turned back around and Hank lobbed another soft one to her, which she nearly hit. After another miss, she asked, “Will you help me, Mari?”

  “Of course.” Mari covered Harper’s hand with hers, and when Hank served the ball to them, they hit it back.

  “We hit it!” Harper said, looking up at Mari.

  “Yes, but we have to keep going.”

  They hit the ball back and forth a couple of times until they hit it into the net. When the ball rolled to the floor, Harper jumped down from the chair and said, “I can stand on my head, Daddy. Watch me!” She dashed to the wall and executed a perfect headstand, holding her place against the wall for a good ten seconds.

  “Wow! I’m impressed, Princess Pink Rose.” Hank’s voice rang with admiration. “Did Mari teach you that?”

  Mari laughed. “No way.”

  “My friend Katy showed me,” Harper said.

  “What else can you do?”

  She smiled, clearly thrilled to have her father’s approval and attention. “I can do a somersault. Watch me.” Then she proceeded to do three somersaults in a row.

  “That is amazing.”

  Harper beamed.

  Mari loved the interaction between Hank and Harper, and as hard as she tried to suppress it, her attraction to him could not be denied. But she had to deny it and deny it firmly. He was London’s ex-husband. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that? And even if he wasn’t, she couldn’t be sure of him—one minute he seemed interested in her, the next he was saying she was a kid who held zero interest for him. No, it was best for her to keep that red line bright and visible.

  “Can we watch a movie?” Harper asked.

  Now, that was an idea Mari could get behind. No playing ping-pong, and certainly no playing pool. “That’s a great idea,” she said. “What movie do you want to watch?”

  “The Little Mernaid.”

  Mari laughed. “You mean The Little Mermaid?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think I have that movie,” Hank said.

  “I’m sure we can stream it from somewhere.” Mari wouldn’t let him talk Harper out of it.

  Once they were all settled on the couch in the family room, Hank began streaming The Little Mermaid. Harper was fully focused on the large television, and as she sat to his left, Hank’s gaze slid to Mari, who sat on Harper’s other side. Deciding to take a chance, he rested his arm on the back of the couch behind Harper, then ran one of his fingers across the bare skin of Mari’s arm.

  The moment his finger touched her, her head swung in his direction. Eyes wide, she looked at him as her lips parted. Letting a lazy smile curve his mouth, his eyes never wavered from hers. Her eyebrows slid together as her teeth sunk into her lower lip and confusion clouded her eyes.

  The uncertainty on her face rattled him, and he drew his arm back to his lap. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he saw that she was facing the front again, though her forehead was creased.

  Had he misread her completely? He’d thought she had some interest in him, but maybe he’d been wrong.

  Feeling like a fool for his serious miscalculation, Hank clenched his jaw and vowed to behave himself from now on. In fact, he knew he owed Mari an apology for thinking of her in terms that she clearly didn’t reciprocate.

  After Harper went to bed he’d have a talk with her. Clear the air. Start fresh.

  Feeling marginally better, he focused on the movie.

  His touch was a scorch on her arm. Mari stared at the TV screen, but she might as well have been looking at a blank wall. While her heart galloped with joy at the look of interest she’d seen on Hank’s face, her mind rebelled, telling her heart to slow to a walk. And when he’d withdrawn his hand, she’d had to fight the urge to reach behind Harper and put her hand on him.

  But that would be stupid. Especially when the words she’d heard him say to Simone still rang in her ears. No, it was good he’d pulled back.

  The more she thought about it, the more confused she became, because his actions completely contradicted what he’d said.

  Maybe it was time to ask him flat-out what was going on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I like The Little Mernaid,” Harper said as the movie finished and they turned the TV off.

  Mari smiled at her mispronunciation. “I like it too.”

  “Do you like The Little Mernaid, Daddy?”

  Hank tugged her into his arms and tickled her. “You’re my little mermaid.”

  Harper giggled, her feet kicking in the air. “I’m not a mernaid.”

  “You looked like a mermaid when you were swimming today.”

  Her giggles only grew louder, but after several moments, Hank sat her up. “Okay. Time for bed, my little princess.” Then he turned to Mari, the laughter suddenly gone from his eyes. “I’ll tuck her in once she’s ready for bed.”

  His tone was different. More…not formal exactly…but there seemed to be a less casual air to it. Like he barely knew her. Like she was just an employee.

  Idiot. That’s what you are.

  She may not be his employee, but she was still the hired help. Why had she ever thought things could be different?

  Then again, why had he touched her like he had during the movie? Looked at her the way he had? Acted the way he had when they’d played pool several days earlier?

  Fresh confusion descended upon her, but she ignored it, instead taking Harper’s hand and leading her up the stairs and into her room.

  Hank was nervous. He’d read Harper a story and tucked her in, and now, as he closed the door to her room, his gaze shot to the next door in the hallway. The door to Mari’s room. He needed to talk to her, to clear the air. To apologize for stepping out of line.

  What would she say? What would she do?

  Sucking in a breath, he reminded himself that he was Hank Parson, star running back in the NFL, accomplished athlete. More importantly, he was Harper’s father. He could do this. He could handle whatever came.

  Slowly exhaling, he strode to Mari’s door and firmly rapped his fist against the wood.

  Keep this professional. That will tone down the awkwardness.

  At least he hoped it would.

  The door opened and there she stood, wearing shorts and a tank top, her hair pulled into a messy bun, her face scrubbed clean. Her eyes wide and questioning as her lips parted.

  He battled the nearly overwhelming need to drag her into his arms and kiss that luscious mouth.

  “I need to talk to you.” Huskiness scratched his throat.

  Mari hadn’t expected to see Hank tonight. And she especially hadn’t expected to see him standing in her doorway demanding a conversation. But seeing him now—towering over her, his eyes intense, his body ripped and powerful, his face beyond handsome—there was no way she would tell him no.

  No warm smile accompanied his request, and she wondered if he had bad news to deliver. Had he talked to London? Had she told him to fire her? Would she be packing her bags and leaving that very night?

  Her heart thumped with dread.

  “Come with me,” he said, then he turned and walked down the hallway and toward the stairs.

  Mari hurried to follow, and when Hank reached the sit
ting room, he paused at the French doors, turning to look at her, then he held the door open for her and she stepped onto the tiled patio. The sun had set, but the evening was pleasant.

  “Are you warm enough?” Hank asked her.

  She nodded, and when he motioned to the pair of cushioned chairs, Mari sat.

  Hank sat in the adjacent chair, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his gaze on the ground.

  He looked tense, which made Mari tense, but she held her tongue, waiting for him to take the lead.

  After several moments he straightened and turned to her, his face grim. “I owe you an apology.”

  Her eyebrows flew together. This wasn’t what she was expecting. And what was he apologizing for? Did he know she’d overheard his conversation with Simone? Or at least the part of it where he’d said the less-than-flattering things about her? Is that what this was all about?

  Tightly coiled, she waited for him to go on.

  “I made an assumption,” he continued. “I was wrong to do that and I’m sorry.”

  An assumption? What assumption? Anxious to figure out what this was really about, she said, “What are you talking about?”

  A muscle worked in his jaw and he looked away before meeting her gaze. “I assumed you were…well, that you were…interested in me. Romantically.”

  Her mouth fell open and she sharply inhaled.

  His assumption was right. One hundred percent right. What if she told him he was right? What would happen then? And was he interested in her? How could that be, after what she’d heard him tell Simone? Was he playing with her, taking advantage of her?

  Mentally flailing, Mari stared at him.

  “Sometimes,” he said, one side of his mouth quirking up. “Sometimes my ego’s a little too big, I guess.”

  His handsome face, his mouth, was only inches away. What were the possibilities here?