life now, but his mind reeled back to a night when she hadn’t been. It was spring of her sophomore year of high school, and she’d been dating Marshall for five or six months. Harley had been home for the weekend, working at the pub. It was dark when he’d left work, and he’d seen the silhouette of a person huddled at the edge of the dock in the marina by the rowboat Piper and Marshall had built. He’d gone to investigate and had quickly realized it was Piper. The image of her shaking with sobs was etched in his mind, as was the mortification on her face when she’d looked up and seen him approaching. He’d also never forget the overwhelming urge to protect her that had instantly consumed him, or the rage that had stormed through him when he’d learned the reason she was crying. His brother had cheated on her, breaking her tender teenage heart. Harley had made sure his brother paid the price for his actions.
Just thinking about that painful night brought a rush of anger and a surge of protectiveness. He tried to push the painful memories away, focusing instead on how Piper had pulled herself up by her bootstraps. She’d lifted her adorably pointy little chin that awful night, glaring at him like he was the enemy as she’d risen to her feet, and said, What the fuck do you want? She’d stormed off without giving him a chance to respond. From that day forward she’d never let anyone drag her down—but just in case, Harley had always had her back. He’d returned to college and had eventually moved to New York City, but he’d come back often and had always checked on Piper, even when she’d gone away to college. It wasn’t until he’d moved back home when his father had taken ill and he and Piper had become closer that his feelings had begun changing from protective friend to interested man. Given Piper’s well-armored heart, he had a hell of a time figuring out what to do with all those feelings.
The school bell rang, pulling him from his thoughts.
Piper shoved her phone into her back pocket and said, “They won’t know my truck.” She threw open her door and stood on the running board. When she spotted his nieces, she whistled. “Jolie! Sophie!” She waved her hands, causing all the kids to look over. “I’m holding your uncle hostage! Get your heinies in the truck; we’ve got things to do!”
Sophie ran toward the truck, waving.
Jolie’s momentary grin quickly settled into a frown, and she trained her eyes on the sidewalk, skulking toward them.
The girls looked like Delaney, with big blue eyes and long brown hair. But while they’d once shared her easygoing demeanor, recently Jolie had become sullen. Their father had skipped town the day Delaney had graduated from law school in New York City, leaving Delaney pregnant and with a baby to care for. She’d moved home to live with her parents while she found her footing and started over. Those first few years were hard on them, and Harley had come home and stepped in as often as he could to help Delaney, and maybe more importantly, to show the girls that they were special and loved and they were not the reason their father had disappeared. But he worried about the changes he’d seen in Jolie lately, some of which were normal for an adolescent girl, but as to be expected, her unhappiness had amplified with her mother’s cancer diagnosis. Her diagnosis had terrified all of them. It had taken several weeks for Harley, Delaney, and their mother to come to grips with it, and they’d done everything they could to help the girls understand that their mother’s diagnosis wasn’t a death sentence. But convincing his young nieces of that was like claiming there weren’t wars going on in the world when it was all over the news. Luckily, Delaney’s cancer hadn’t spread to her lymph nodes, and the surgery had left her with clear margins, which meant they had eradicated the cancer and she would not need radiation. Harley had hoped Delaney’s excellent prognosis would ease Jolie’s bad moods, but he was still having trouble connecting with her.
Sophie rushed into the back seat, bright-eyed and chattering as she crawled across the bench. “Hi, Uncle Harley. Hi, Piper! Why is Piper here?”
“Because she’s Uncle Harley’s girlfriend,” Jolie said flatly as she climbed in.
Piper’s head whipped in Harley’s direction, and