Page 40 of Shortcake
And now, she was back.
And so were my dreams.
Fuck me. Having her live here beneath my roof was a terrible, terrible mistake.
And something told me she was going to be sitting out on that deck on display, teasing me, all summer long.
“I thought you were going to the station,” Harper snapped behind me.
I flinched, busying myself with rinsing out my coffee mug, even though I’d already washed it earlier. “I am.”
I set the mug on the counter to dry, then turned to face my daughter. “What are your plans today?”
Her mouth was set into a frown and she shrugged, picking at her chipping nail polish. “Unpack, I guess. I have to move all my freaking boxes from the basement to the upstairs bedroom now.”
Even though she didn’t add it, we both knew the subtext,thanks to you, was tacked onto that sentence.
“I’ll move the heavy ones for you when I get home.” For a moment, I felt bad for my girl. This move wasn’t easy on either of us. But it was for the best.
I knew it in my heart, even with the added surprise of Addy, we were meant to be here.
I stepped forward and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, trying not to take it personally as she pulled away. “You’re not to leave this house today at all. Understood?”
“Yeah, I know. Just not sure what I’m supposed to eat.”
I pulled a twenty from my billfold and put it on the counter. “Order a pizza for yourself. I’ll be home before dinner.”
Despite her groans of protest, I pulled Harper in for a hug and inhaled the sweet scent of her mango shampoo clinging to her shower-damp hair. She may not want to hug me back right now, but I didn’t care. I still had her. And goddammit, I wasn’t going to lose her, too.
Three hours later, I was still sitting at my desk filling out paperwork. For a town with very little crime, Maple Grove sure had its fair share of paperwork.
I wasn’t even scheduled to work today but disappearing and losing myself in work was always my escape. At work, things were black and white. Actions were either illegal or not. Work wasn't always easy, but catching bad guys and helping clean up my community made me feel better. Like my life had purpose.
But it was a hell of a lot easier to work when I lived in New York. When my mother was still alive and living with us.
When the extent of Harper’s rebellion was that she bought two pints of ice cream instead of one.
That all changed with Mom’s MS diagnosis. It started small, with little rebellions. But the sicker her grandmother got, the more Harper acted out. The more she hung out with the kids who liked to graffiti and shoplift.
And now? Work wasn’t helping me like it used to. I couldn’t just disappear into my new job. Not with how badly yesterday had gone when Harper was on her own. It was like living with PTSD. All day, I had one hand on my phone, tracking Harper’s location.
“Everything okay, boss?” Warren asked as he set a cup of coffee on my desk.
I swiped a hand down my face and mumbled a thanks. “Yeah. Just making sure Harper stays home.”
Warren craned his neck, taking a not so surreptitious peek at my openFind Myapp on the screen. “Well, that just means herphoneis home, right?”
Steel rods replaced my spine and I bristled. “Well, yeah…”
“So she could have gone somewhere, but left her phone at home and you’d be none the wiser?”
Dammit.Why didn’t I think of that?I was on my feet, halfway out the door of the station before Warren could call out, “Don’t worry! I’ll cover for ya!”
I made it the two-mile drive home in record time, definitely pushing the boundaries of what a cop should be allowed to speed for.
As soon as I sprinted through the door, I heard laughing and froze.
Harper’slaugh.
