and shampoo.”
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m out that way,” Harper promised.
Mrs. Murphy nodded, apparently satisfied with that response. “How is young Oliver?”
“He’s doing okay.”
“Did you know I used to babysit sometimes?” Fran asked. “When Melissa and Darren wanted to go out to see a movie or have a romantic meal somewhere, they’d give me a call to look after the baby.”
Harper nodded. “Melissa told me how much she appreciated knowing Oliver was in good hands when she wanted a bit of a break.”
“Caring for a baby is a full-time job, as I’m sure you now realize.”
“I do,” she agreed. “Which is why I’m shopping for groceries and Oliver is home with Ryan.”
The other woman chuckled. “Well, if you and Ryan ever want to get out together, I’d be happy to sit with the little one.”
“Oh. Um...thank you, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“A night out might be welcome even if it’s not necessary.”
Harper opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. She got the impression that the older woman thought her relationship with Ryan was something more than it was, and it was instinctive to want to clarify the situation for her. But in the end, she just wanted to get her groceries and get home.
“You’ll remember what I said about calling me to babysit if ever you need me?” Fran prompted.
“I will,” Harper promised.
“Then I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
Harper thanked her again and started to push her cart forward as Mrs. Murphy continued the opposite way. She was nearly at the end of the aisle before she realized that she hadn’t decided which cereal to buy. She backtracked and put both boxes in her cart.
* * *
When Harper got home from the grocery store, Ryan had Oliver secured in his high chair playing with the homemade dough she’d made for him, so he helped her unpack and put away the groceries.
Shopping had been much simpler when he was just feeding himself—mostly from the frozen-food section. He’d bought a lot of meals that could be taken out of a box and put directly into the microwave. Easy cooking and easier cleanup.
Harper was a fan of fresh fruits and vegetables—and salad. He’d never known anyone who ate as much salad as she did.
He’d brought home a couple of salted caramel brownies from The Sweet Spot one day, just because he’d been near the bakery and decided that he was in the mood for something sweet. Harper had looked at the brownies with unmistakable longing—and then at him as if he was the devil for putting temptation in her path.
And he knew that she had been tempted—but she’d resisted.
He’d eaten both of them for dessert that night; she’d had a bowl of strawberries.
“I got chicken for dinner,” Harper said. “Do you want to grill it or should I make a stir-fry?”
Over the past few weeks, they’d fallen into a routine of making and eating dinner together. It wasn’t anything they’d planned—it had just happened that way—so it hadn’t occurred to him to tell her that he had other plans.
“Actually...I have a...um...date tonight,” he told her now.
“Oh.” Harper put the package of chicken breasts in the refrigerator. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry—I should have said something earlier.”
“You don’t have to clear your schedule with me,” she assured him.
“I didn’t because, honestly, I forgot about it until Whitney texted me half an hour ago.”
“It’s okay,” she said again, putting a rack of ribs in the freezer. “Have a good time.”
Her tone was neutral—as if she honestly didn’t care that he was going out or even whom he was going with. And she probably didn’t. She’d made it more than clear four years ago that the one night they’d spent together would not be repeated. And one sizzling kiss aside, there had been absolutely no indication that her opinion on the matter had changed since then.
But it felt strange to Ryan, to
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m out that way,” Harper promised.
Mrs. Murphy nodded, apparently satisfied with that response. “How is young Oliver?”
“He’s doing okay.”
“Did you know I used to babysit sometimes?” Fran asked. “When Melissa and Darren wanted to go out to see a movie or have a romantic meal somewhere, they’d give me a call to look after the baby.”
Harper nodded. “Melissa told me how much she appreciated knowing Oliver was in good hands when she wanted a bit of a break.”
“Caring for a baby is a full-time job, as I’m sure you now realize.”
“I do,” she agreed. “Which is why I’m shopping for groceries and Oliver is home with Ryan.”
The other woman chuckled. “Well, if you and Ryan ever want to get out together, I’d be happy to sit with the little one.”
“Oh. Um...thank you, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“A night out might be welcome even if it’s not necessary.”
Harper opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. She got the impression that the older woman thought her relationship with Ryan was something more than it was, and it was instinctive to want to clarify the situation for her. But in the end, she just wanted to get her groceries and get home.
“You’ll remember what I said about calling me to babysit if ever you need me?” Fran prompted.
“I will,” Harper promised.
“Then I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
Harper thanked her again and started to push her cart forward as Mrs. Murphy continued the opposite way. She was nearly at the end of the aisle before she realized that she hadn’t decided which cereal to buy. She backtracked and put both boxes in her cart.
* * *
When Harper got home from the grocery store, Ryan had Oliver secured in his high chair playing with the homemade dough she’d made for him, so he helped her unpack and put away the groceries.
Shopping had been much simpler when he was just feeding himself—mostly from the frozen-food section. He’d bought a lot of meals that could be taken out of a box and put directly into the microwave. Easy cooking and easier cleanup.
Harper was a fan of fresh fruits and vegetables—and salad. He’d never known anyone who ate as much salad as she did.
He’d brought home a couple of salted caramel brownies from The Sweet Spot one day, just because he’d been near the bakery and decided that he was in the mood for something sweet. Harper had looked at the brownies with unmistakable longing—and then at him as if he was the devil for putting temptation in her path.
And he knew that she had been tempted—but she’d resisted.
He’d eaten both of them for dessert that night; she’d had a bowl of strawberries.
“I got chicken for dinner,” Harper said. “Do you want to grill it or should I make a stir-fry?”
Over the past few weeks, they’d fallen into a routine of making and eating dinner together. It wasn’t anything they’d planned—it had just happened that way—so it hadn’t occurred to him to tell her that he had other plans.
“Actually...I have a...um...date tonight,” he told her now.
“Oh.” Harper put the package of chicken breasts in the refrigerator. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry—I should have said something earlier.”
“You don’t have to clear your schedule with me,” she assured him.
“I didn’t because, honestly, I forgot about it until Whitney texted me half an hour ago.”
“It’s okay,” she said again, putting a rack of ribs in the freezer. “Have a good time.”
Her tone was neutral—as if she honestly didn’t care that he was going out or even whom he was going with. And she probably didn’t. She’d made it more than clear four years ago that the one night they’d spent together would not be repeated. And one sizzling kiss aside, there had been absolutely no indication that her opinion on the matter had changed since then.
But it felt strange to Ryan, to
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