More Than Anything (Broken Pieces #1)(12)

“You’ve apologized. I’m sure you’re happy to get that burden off your conscience. Now maybe you’ll stop bothering me,” she said.

“Let me help you with this,” he insisted, indicating the boxes. Tina sighed, and the short sound was laced with irritation.

“On the condition that you don’t bring up all that old crap again,” she finally conceded with palpable reluctance.

“Tina—”

“Ever again,” she elaborated, interrupting him without a qualm.

He huffed impatiently before finally lifting his broad shoulders in a shrug.

“Fine.” His voice was surly, but Tina didn’t care. It felt like a victory of sorts.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked when he shrugged out of his denim jacket, tossing it over the back of her sofa, and shoved his hoodie sleeves up to his elbows.

“Please,” he said as he lifted a box—the swingy thing that Tina had lugged up the stairs—and scrutinized the images before reaching for his jacket and extracting a utility knife from one of the pockets. He neatly sliced the carton open before removing various plastic-wrapped objects.

Tina left him to it, surreptitiously watching him from her open-plan kitchen as she went about preparing a couple of cups of coffee. Instant. Because she had no intention of making any kind of special effort for him.

She finished the coffee in no time and placed his mug on the table beside where he was kneeling on the floor, softly cursing beneath his breath as he tried to figure out the complicated-looking swing.

Tina picked up a bigger box, a playpen, and reached for his knife where he had left it on the table, and she made short work of opening it up. She read the instructions carefully and grouped the pieces in the order she would need them before starting.

She was making good progress and was wrapped in her own thoughts, effectively ignoring the fact that Harris was just across the room from her, when he spoke unexpectedly.

“I think this stuff was left over from her baby shower. I mean, she had her nursery completely set up already. I think she was going to give these things to charity.”

Tina wasn’t surprised. Libby’s baby shower had been so extravagant that she’d been left with way more gifts than she had needed. Libby had wanted Tina to host the shower and had envisioned something small and intimate . . . but Libby’s mother-in-law had insisted on handling the arrangements, and it had turned into a three-ring circus, with women attending whom Libby had barely known.

“It was easier to transport the stuff that was still in the boxes.”

“I see,” Tina responded, only because a reply seemed required of her. She didn’t know why he’d felt the need to tell her this. She didn’t particularly care. She just wanted him out of her home as soon as possible.

“These things are going to take up a lot of room in your apartment. It’s just one bedroom, right?”

“I don’t mind.” His observation raised her hackles. It felt accusatory.

“It’s going to get crowded pretty quickly,” he continued.

“That’s not your concern,” she said dismissively.

“I could arrange an apartment for Libby—someplace bigger, close to her parents.”

“She wouldn’t want that.”

“You can’t speak for her,” he protested sullenly, and she gave him her best “dude, please” look.

“I’m pretty sure, in this instance, that I’m perfectly qualified to speak for her. I told you, she won’t even stay with her parents because their apartment was a gift from your parents. What makes you think she’d be okay staying in a place you’ve ‘arranged’?” She used air quotes for the last word.

“Fair point,” he conceded with a grimace. Tina tried very hard to keep the smugness she felt off her face and went back to her task. A few screws later, she sat back proudly and stared at the completed playpen.

“Done,” she stated, unable to keep the triumph out of her voice. She pushed the bulky but lightweight piece of furniture aside and picked up the next box. Car seat. It didn’t need much, just unboxing. It would have to be affixed in her car before she left to pick up Libby and Clara.

Harris cast her a sulky glare from beneath his fall of black hair, still working on the swing. She could feel him staring at her but chose to ignore the look. She placed the car seat on the sofa behind her before dragging out another box, this one a high chair.

“Don’t think she’ll be needing this for a good few months yet,” she muttered to herself.

“I just grabbed what looked useful,” Harris retorted defensively, and she refrained from rolling her eyes. Big man’s ego bruised quickly, it seemed.

She shrugged and looked around for something else. There was only the bassinet left, and she unboxed it quickly.

“That one looks complicated—I’ll do it,” Harris said, glancing up from the swing, which was still in several pieces in front of him.

“Uh . . . you just keep slogging away at that thing, Harris. I’ve got this,” she said in her most patronizing voice, and his dark-blue eyes sparked with something dangerous. He didn’t say anything, though, and she snorted disdainfully before unboxing the bassinet. She used the same method as before, arranging all the pieces in the order she thought she might need them, and half an hour later, she very proudly touched the old-school rocking bassinet and watched it swing gently back and forth.