She slid a hand around to the back of his neck, rose up on her toes. She stopped, her lips a whisper from his, to savor that instant when the breath catches and the heart stumbles. Then she closed the distance.

Soft, as she’d imagined it would be soft. And warm. His hair was a silky weight on the back of her hand, and his body such a pleasure to press against.

He’d gone so still, but for his heart that slammed against hers. Then she felt his hand on her back, the fist he made as he gathered her shirt in his fingers.

On the floor, Lily’s music cube was a jubilant crash of sound.

She made herself ease back. One step at a time, she reminded herself. Though her belly was quivering, she did her best to take a casual sip of beer while he stared at her with those dark eyes.

“So, what do you think?”

He lifted a hand, then dropped it again. “I appear to have lost the capability for rational thought.”

“When you get it back, you’ll have to let me know.”

She turned to gather the baby’s things.

“Hayley.” He reached out, grabbed her by the waistband of her jeans and tugged. “Uh-uh.”

Her belly jumped, joyfully. She glanced over her shoulder. “Which means?”

“The short way of saying you don’t walk in here, kiss me like that, then walk out again. Question. Was that a demonstration to catch me up with what’s happening with Amelia, or was it something else?”

“I’ve been wondering what it would be like, so I decided to find out.”

“Okay.” He turned her around, glanced down to be sure Lily was still occupied, then backed her into the counter.

His hands were at her hips when his mouth met hers. As his tongue dipped in, an intimate taste, those hands slid up, cruising over her, setting off little charges under her skin.

Then he stepped back, rubbed a thumb over her tingling lips. “I’ve been wondering what it would be like, too. So I guess we both know.”

“Looks like,” she managed.

Since Lily came over to tug at his pants, Harper boosted her up on his hip. “I guess it’s complicated.”

“Yeah, it is. Very. We’ll need to take it slow, think it all the way through.”

“Sure. Or we can say screw that and I can come to your room later tonight.”

“I . . . I want to say yes. I’m thinking yes,” she said on a rush. “Yes is screaming inside my head and I don’t know why yes isn’t coming out of my mouth. It’s exactly what I want.”

“But.” He nodded. “It’s okay. We should give it a little time. Be sure.”

“Be sure,” she repeated, and hurried to pick up Lily’s things. “I need to go, or I’ll forget about a little time and being sure, because, man, you sure can kiss. And I need to get Lily ready for bed. I don’t want to mess things up, Harper. I so don’t want to mess things up.”

“We won’t.”

“We can’t.” She took Lily, though the baby cried pitifully at being pried away from Harper. “I’ll see you at work.”

“Sure, but I can walk you back.”

“No.” She hurried toward the door with Lily struggling and crying in her arms. “She’ll be okay.”

The crying escalated into a full-blown temper tantrum with kicking legs, stiffly arched back, and ear-piercing shrieks. “For God’s sake, Lily, you’ll see him again tomorrow. It’s not like he’s going off to war.”

The diaper bag slipped off her shoulder to weigh like an anchor on her arm while her sweet baby morphed into a red-faced demon from hell. Tiny, hard-toed walking shoes punched bruises into her hip, her belly, her thighs as she struggled to cart twenty pounds of fury through the dragging summer heat.

“I’d like to’ve stayed, too, you know.” Frustration sharpened her voice. “But we can’t, that’s just the way it is, so you’re going to have to deal.”

Sweat dripped into her eyes, blurred her vision so that for a moment, the grand old house seemed to be floating like a mirage. An illusion she’d never reach.

It would just keep swimming farther away, because it wasn’t real. Not for her. She’d never really belong there. It would be better, smarter, easier if she packed up, moved on. The house and Harper were one in the same—things that could never be hers. As long as she stayed here, she was the illusion.

“Well, what’s all this?”

She saw Roz through the shimmer of heat, the daze of twilight, and felt her own body sway as everything snapped back into focus. A sly tongue of nausea curled in her stomach. Then Lily, tears streaming, all but launched herself out of her arms and into Roz’s.

“She’s mad at me,” Hayley said weakly, and tears stung her own eyes as Lily wrapped her arms around Roz’s neck and wept into her shoulder.

“Won’t be the last time.” Roz rubbed Lily’s back, going into that instinctive side-to-side rocking motion as she studied Hayley’s face. “What set her off?”

“She saw Harper. She wanted to stay with him.”

“It’s hard leaving your best guy.”

“She needs a bath and bed. Should’ve had them already. I’m sorry we bothered you. I guess they could hear her screaming clear down to Memphis.”

“You didn’t bother me. She’s not the first baby I’ve heard in a temper, and she won’t be the last.”

“I’ll take her up.”

“I got her.” Roz turned to take the steps up to the second floor. “You frazzled each other out. That’s what happens when babies want one thing and their mama knows they need something different. Then you end up feeling guilty because they act like it’s the end of their world, and you’re the one who pulled the rug out.”

A tear spilled over, and Hayley rubbed it away. “I hate letting her down.”

“And how did you let her down by doing what’s best for her? This baby’s tired,” Roz said as she opened the door to the nursery, turned on the lamp. “And sweaty. She needs her bath, a nightie, and a little quiet time. Go on, get her bath started. I’ll get her clothes off.”

“That’s all right, I can—”

“Honey, you’ve got to learn to share.”

Since Roz was already carrying a now calm Lily away, Hayley moved into the bathroom. She ran the water, adding the bubbles Lily liked to splash in, the rubber duck and frogs. And caught herself swallowing back tears a half dozen times.