an expression he couldn’t read. It was a little cold and a little cocky, with an undercurrent of trepidation—a combination only Piper could pull off. He’d hoped for more of the lust he’d seen and felt earlier, but this was Piper Dalton, and she did not like anyone else having control. He wondered if she was that way in bed, too, because if she was, they were going to have a very interesting sex life.
He was banking on it.
Her hair looked freshly washed, shiny and beautiful, parted on the side, with a purple streak at the front, where her hair often fell over her eye, and a second streak a little farther back.
“I love it,” he said. “The guys at work will probably give you a hard time tomorrow, huh, Pipe?”
“Let ’em try,” she said with a bite in her voice. “The girls did an awesome job, didn’t they?”
“Yeah. Who knew they were so talented.”
“Thanks, Uncle Harley.” Sophie flopped down beside him and put her head on his shoulder. “Can we watch a few minutes of television before bed?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve got to get my tools together.” Piper headed for the stairs.
“Can I say good night now?” Jolie asked. “I want to write in the diary Piper gave me.”
He waved her in for a hug and kissed her temple. “Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you, too,” Jolie said.
After she went upstairs, he said, “Piper bought Jolie a diary?”
“Mm-hm. A pretty red one with a lock on it. Can Piper tuck us in tonight?” Sophie asked. “I want to show her something in the book we bought today.”
“Why don’t you ask her when she comes back down?” he suggested. A diary. Why hadn’t he thought of that? His sister had written in a diary when she was younger. Harley and Marshall used to steal it and tell her they were going to read it. They never did, but she used to get so mad she’d chase them around the house.
A familiar pang of sadness and regret washed through him. Sadness, because until Delaney had been cleared of cancer, he’d been terrified they’d lose her, and regret always accompanied thoughts of Marshall. Well, that and anger. He hadn’t even heard from Marshall since he’d stormed off after his father’s funeral. Harley couldn’t really blame him, since Harley had given him hell for showing up stoned, or drunk, or both for the funeral, and for disappearing on them when their sister and parents had needed him most.
A little while later Piper came downstairs and set her toolbox and the bucket of supplies by the door, avoiding his gaze. Damn it. She was planning on bolting.
Sophie popped to her feet and said, “Can you tuck me in before you leave?”
Piper’s eyes darted to Harley, but she wasn’t seeking approval. Even from across the room he could see she was wondering if he’d put Sophie up to it.
“She wants to show you something,” he said, trying to figure out how to convince her not to leave without scaring her off.
“Okay. Are you ready now?”
“Uh-huh.” Sophie hugged Harley. “Good night, Uncle Harley. I love you.”
“Love you, squirt.” He watched them go upstairs, and then he petted Jiggs and said, “She’s not taking off. Not without talking to me first.”
He grabbed the crutches and made his way to the door to wait for her. When Piper came downstairs, she looked annoyed at seeing him standing by her toolbox, but thankfully, she didn’t appear angry.
“Girls okay?”
“Fine,” she said.
“Thanks for doing so much with them today.”
“It was nothing. I had fun.” She reached for her toolbox. “I’m going to the pub for a drink.”
He grabbed her wrist in one hand, holding the crutches in the other, and said, “After we talk.”
“Harley,” she complained as he dragged her through the living room.
Jiggs followed them, racing from side to side, like he didn’t understand what was going on.
Join the fucking club. Harley’s life had been uncorked by the sprightly blonde.
“Sit your fine ass down and talk to me.” He sat down and hauled her down beside him. Her foot hit his ankle and he winced, cursing through gritted teeth.
“Oh God!” She jerked her wrist free, worry written all over her face. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”
His ankle throbbed, the pain cutting so deep it radiated up his leg. “It’s fine.” Jiggs poked his nose at Harley’s ankle, and he put his hand between the dog’s nose and his foot.
“Bullshit. You look like you’re going to kill someone. Let me see it. Did you even