The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(38)

“I never said I didn’t like her. She’s nice. It’s that we don’t have anything in common.”

“Just one morning, one hour.”

“Okay, fine.” Her agreement came out sounding more petulant than she intended. He picked up her phone on the side table and held it out to her. She snatched it out of his hand. “You want me to call now?”

“Yep. Otherwise, you’ll put it off.”

She tried not to resent his high-handedness. He was used to a chain of command. That was something they never told you about living with a man in the military, and maybe the SEALs in particular. They were bossy as hell. Of course, in the right conditions, that made them sexy as hell, too.

She had Allison’s number stored and hit it, praying to get sent to voicemail. Her prayers weren’t answered.

“Why, hello!” Allison’s voice was chirpy.

Harper popped up. “Hi, Allison. It’s Harper. Harper Wilcox.”

“I know. You came up on my caller ID. Are you enjoying have Noah home as much as I’m enjoying Darren?”

Harper shot a look toward Noah, who was sprawled on the couch, his slight smile veering toward smug. “I am. Of course I am. I calling because”—she cleared her throat—“because I was wondering if you wanted to come over for coffee one morning this week.” She felt like she was asking a boy out to a Sadie Hawkins dance.

An extra beat of silence rang loudly through the phone. “I would love that. Absolutely love it. What day works best for you?”

They settled on a day and time and Harper assured her that the kids were welcome and even managed to insert a joke about putting away her collection of Ming Dynasty vases. She hung up, her relief shadowed by a slight sense of dread.

“There. Was that so hard?” Noah asked.

Harper gave him the finger. On a burst of laughter, he jumped up and pulled her close, his hands wandering down her back to cup her butt. They sank to the floor and didn’t come up for air until dinner.

The day of her coffee with Allison approached at warp speed. She cleaned the house and dusted the books on the shelf twice. Waffling on appropriate clothes, she settled on a simple skirt, T-shirt, and flip-flops. The coffee was brewed, snacks were arranged on a platter, and the house was spotless. There was nothing else to do but pace by the front window.

She spotted the stroller first and jumped to the side of the window to watch Allison’s approach around the edge of the curtain. A toddler squirmed in the stroller while a baby slumped in a contraption strapped to Allison’s front.

The doorbell rang and Harper skipped to the door, opening it and gesturing Allison and the kids through. “Come on in. Can I help you?”

“Could you lift the front of the stroller?” Allison’s breathlessness gave the impression of being frazzled even though she was put together like a catalogue model, with smooth blond hair and in a pretty sundress.

Harper helped get the stroller up the two porch steps and into the den. With an efficiency that would do the Navy proud, Allison unstrapped the girl in pigtails from the stroller and set her down. Next Allison pulled a blanket out of a back compartment of the stroller, laid it out, and proceed to unstrap the tiny human from her chest.

On his back like a stuck bug, the baby kicked his arms and legs, his face turning red until a scream emerged.

“Sorry.” Allison tossed Harper an apologetic smile.

Meanwhile, the girl, who was around two years old, took off toward the kitchen like an Olympic sprinter.

“Oh my God.” Allison scrambled toward her on all fours.

“I’ll get her. And some snacks, too.” Harper retreated to the kitchen to find the little girl—what was her name? Libby? The little girl was rearranging the magnets on the fridge. A few papers and pictures had fallen to her feet. She was counting one-two-three over and over at the top of her lungs.

Harper’s usually quiet, mundane morning had been shattered. But, strangely, she didn’t mind. She fought a giggle. “Hey, Libby. Are you hungry? Would you like a snack?”

Thank goodness she’d bought juice boxes and Goldfish along with sweet rolls and cheese and crackers. She shook the Goldfish box and the girl focused on the box like a hungry predator.

She held them out. “Can you carry them back to your mom?”

“Yesh. Dank you.” Libby took the box with a smile that would break hearts someday if it hadn’t already.

Harper followed with the plate of snacks. Libby plopped down crisscross applesauce next to Allison and tried to rip into the Goldfish box. Allison smoothly divested her of it before she could make a mess.

“Is it okay if she eats in here?” Allison looked up. For the first time, Harper could see the exhaustion behind Allison’s perfect smile.

“Of course. I can’t keep Noah from dragging the entire fridge to the couch when Georgia football or basketball is on.”

“God, Darren is a Green Bay Packers fanatic. We went to a game for one of our first dates, and he tried to get me to wear a huge cheese hat. I refused. I fully expected him to dump me at halftime.”

Their shared laugh dismantled any tension that Harper had carried around since the invitation. “How do you take your coffee?”

“In an IV straight to the jugular,” Allison deadpanned with a dryness Harper hadn’t ever noticed. Maybe she hadn’t been looking hard enough. A grin broke over Allison’s face like sunshine. “Barring that, just a splash of milk. Or cream if you have it.”