too beautiful a day to stay in bed.” He tugged the coverlet down and laughed as she squirmed. Seating himself on the edge of the mattress, he gently pulled aside the pillow. Molly blinked owlishly at him and then gave a yawn.
“I told you not to stay up so late, didn’t I?”
She huffed in annoyance.
“I’m dropping you off at the Evanses’ for the day. What do you want for breakfast?”
She stretched out her arms and legs and curled her toes as she sighed. “Pop-Tarts.”
He clicked his tongue. “No, Molly, a proper breakfast.”
She twisted around and rolled herself into his lap. “Pop-Tarts are a proper breakfast. They’re made with whole grains. It says so on the box.”
He smothered a laugh at this logic. “How about blueberry pancakes?”
Her eyes lit up. “With whipped cream?”
He eyed her.
“And extra blueberries?” she pressed.
“You drive a hard bargain. That’s not much better than Pop-Tarts.”
But she grinned, knowing she’d already won. As a single father, he found it difficult to deny her some days. As if his acquiescence could make up for the way her mother had walked out on them.
“Extra blueberries it is.”
She gave a tiny squeal of joy, smacked a kiss on his cheek and then hopped out of bed before padding in the direction of the bathroom. He rose and headed for their apartment kitchen above the restaurant.
Forty minutes later, Connor finished cleaning the remains of the whipped cream off Molly’s face.
“How are you enjoying your summer so far?” he asked as he tossed the paper towel into the waste bin. “Do you miss the first grade?”
“Nope,” Molly replied. “Summer is my favorite time of year because it means no more school.”
Connor pretended to be shocked. “But Molly...what about Christmas? I thought that was your favorite time of year.”
Molly sighed as if exasperated by her father’s lack of understanding. “That’s only ’cause there’s presents at Christmas.”
Connor laughed as he cleared the table of the remains of the breakfast. Molly helped bring over her plate and fork. Before she could scamper away, he knelt down so he was eye level with her.
“Now, listen, Molly, I want you to be on your best behavior at the Evanses’ today, yeah? No more pranks like you pulled at the Marshalls’ last week.”
She nodded, but he knew better. Molly seemed to find mischief no matter how many times she promised not to.
“That means no taking Piper’s mom’s makeup and using it to paint the baby.”
Molly frowned. “Piper’s mom doesn’t have a baby.”
“Right.” That had been the Browns. “Well. No trying to shave the dog, either.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Piper has cats, not a dog.”
Connor sighed. “Okay. My point is...no getting into trouble, right?”
She nodded, her expression all innocence. “Yes, Daddy. But can’t I just stay with you today?”
Connor tugged on one of the braids he’d made in her hair. He noted they were already coming loose with stray wisps of his daughter’s brown hair fluttering around her face. He’d never been that good at doing her hair.
“I thought you liked spending time at Piper’s house,” Connor replied.
Molly shook her head. “Piper’s house is too clean,” she pronounced. “And Mrs. Evans makes us pick up all the toys before we can do anything else. I’d like it better if Piper came here instead. Can she, Daddy? Please?”
Connor felt a guilty tug. Molly didn’t get to have friends over that often. It was hard enough to keep an eye on his daughter while running the restaurant; he could never manage two children while working. And what little free time he did have, he liked to keep for just the two of them. He worried that he didn’t spend enough time with her as it was.
“Ah, not today, love. But maybe on Monday, when the restaurant’s closed. You can show off the place, yeah? Don’t forget, you have a job here, too, after all.”
This reminder elicited a grin, and Connor noted the tiny gap where one of her baby teeth had come out last week. His little girl was growing up.
“Official taste tester,” she proudly proclaimed.
“That’s right.”
Molly beamed, and Connor leaned forward to press a kiss on her forehead. “Now, go on and get your backpack while I finish clearing the table.”
Connor stood, watching his daughter skip from the room and feeling his chest tighten at the sight. She was growing up so fast. In a few more years, he feared he’d be completely out of his depth with her. He and his sister, Rory, had been close growing up, especially after their father had moved them from Ireland to the States. His own mother had died in his birth country, and the lack of a maternal influence in his life left him feeling extremely unqualified to raise a little girl on his own.
Just then, his cell phone vibrated, and he tugged it from his pocket to check the caller ID. He frowned at the number that appeared on the screen and then answered, trying to curb some of his irritation.
“I wondered if you ever planned to call me back.”
* * *
HARPER ROLLED OUT of bed in time to say goodbye before Tessa headed off to work and then poured a large mug of coffee as she heard her sister pulling out of the drive. She dosed her java with creamer and took a sip to fortify herself for the day ahead. She’d been up late the night before, searching the local classifieds for job openings. The listings were slim, but she’d found an ad for a pet-store clerk and another for a cashier at the local supermarket. She planned to shower and dress and then head out to drop off some résumés.
She sat at the kitchen table and scrolled through the emails on her phone, deleting the junk mail and archiving the personal ones for later. She was halfway through her mug of coffee and her in-box when the doorbell rang.
Straightening, she felt a wave of annoyance. Who could that be first thing in the morning? Surely all of Tessa’s acquaintances were at work or knew she was. And Harper had only been in town forty-eight hours—she couldn’t imagine anyone would be coming to see her. She ran a hand through her hair, knowing it must be standing on end. She hadn’t even bothered to look in the mirror yet this morning.
She was debating whether to run to the bathroom to at least pull a brush through her tangles when an impatient knock sounded on the door. She grumbled “where’s the fire?” beneath her breath and then tugged at her nightshirt and sleep shorts, wishing she’d brought a robe downstairs with her.
She opened the door and almost shut it again.
Connor Callahan was standing on the cottage doorstep.
* * *
CONNOR BLINKED AT the sight of Harper, hair mussed from sleep and dressed in a modest T-shirt and pajama shorts, as she stared at him from inside the cottage doorway.
He experienced a mixture of relief and embarrassment. “Oh, good, it’s the right house. You didn’t leave an address, so I had to go off your description from our conversation yesterday.”
Harper was still staring. “It’s you,” she stated.
“Aye.” He fidgeted uncomfortably. “It’s me.”
He was somewhat prepared to have the door slammed in his face, after the way they’d parted the day before.