LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Should I slip the kid a tip or would that be overkill?”

      He surprised a laugh out of her. “I don’t think she needs the encouragement.”

      “Guess it depends on where you’re sitting.”

      She risked a glance at his face. He was smiling, a devilish glint in his eyes. She grinned.

      “You’re hopeless.”

      “Because I’ve got eyes in my head?”

      “Something like that.” She glanced at Alice, who was happily balanced on his knee, her back supported by one of Harry’s big hands.

      “Are you okay with holding her for a few more minutes or are you going to break out in hives from all the responsibility?”

      “I can handle it.”

      “Brave man.”

      “Weren’t you making me dinner?”

      She rolled her eyes comically before checking on the microwave. The timer was almost done and she opened the door to test the temperature of the potatoes. She was aware of Harry watching her as she worked and an odd little frisson ran up her spine. A couple of minutes later, she slid the plate in front of him, complete with gravy and a slice of fresh bread.

      “Looks good,” he said.

      “Well, it’s food, anyway,” she said modestly.

      She enjoyed cooking, but she wasn’t about to volunteer for Masterchef or anything. Definitely her efforts veered more toward the everyday and practical than haute cuisine.

      She reached for Alice, sliding her daughter off his thigh so he could eat his meal unhindered. At the last minute, Alice caught a fistful of Harry’s T-shirt in her small hand, clinging to it as though her life depended on it.

      “Alice. Sorry, Harry. She’s not used to men, so you’re a bit of a novelty item.”

      “It’s all part of being a babe magnet.”

      She winced to let him know his joke was really bad before prying Alice’s fingers loose. Her daughter had a fierce grip, however, and it took Pippa a few seconds to convince her to let Harry go. She was very aware of the firm warmth of his chest beneath the fabric and how close she stood to him. It hit her that this was the most intimate she’d been with a member of the opposite sex since she’d gotten pregnant. A less than impressive reflection of her social life, but also a solid explanation for the way her heart suddenly pounded in her chest.

      “You live to fight another day,” she said as Alice finally relinquished her prize.

      “Phew,” Harry said. “Thought it was all over for a moment there.”

      Pippa moved to a safe distance and gestured for him to eat. “Dig in. Don’t let it get cold.”

      He dutifully picked up his cutlery and started eating. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to regain her equilibrium. From the moment he’d dropped her car keys into her hand she’d been off balance. Exposing herself and then prying her daughter off him hadn’t helped matters.

      Funny, but she’d never thought of Harry as someone she could ever be nervous around. But then she’d never been alone with him at nine o’clock on a Friday night before, either.

      Right, because so much is going to happen. He’s probably just waiting for his moment to pounce, single mothers being a huge turn-on for him and all. Add to that the fact you’re his best mate’s ex and you’re practically irresistible. It’s a wonder he’s still got his pants on.

      The thought calmed her. The very idea of Harry being interested in her or her being interested in Harry was absurd. Beyond absurd, really, moving into insane territory.

      Common sense restored, Pippa crossed to the sideboard to find her handbag. She grabbed her checkbook from the side pocket and found a pen.

      Behind her, Harry made an appreciative noise. “This is really good. I love schnitzel.”

      “It’s my Aunt Bev’s recipe. She married an Austrian.”

      “Go Aunty Bev.”

      She opened the checkbook to a fresh page.

      Harry’s eyebrows rose as he registered what she was doing. “That had better not be what I think it is.”

      “You have to at least let me pay for parts. I’ve gotten some money together, so I’m not a total charity case.”

      “It was a gasket and some oil. A few bucks. Like I said, consider it Alice’s birthday present.”

      “Except it’s going to be another seventeen-odd years before she actually needs her own car.” She fixed Harry with a level look. “I appreciate your generosity, and I know I can’t fully repay you for your time, but please let me make sure you’re not out of pocket.”

      He gestured toward his plate. “You cooked me dinner. We’re square.”

      She made a frustrated noise. Harry cut another slice of schnitzel and popped it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, purposefully, a steady, confident expression in his eyes that as good as said, “I just had the final word and you can’t do anything about it.”

      He really was a cheeky bastard. Too cocky and smug and charming for his own good.

      “I’ll find a way to pay you back, Porter.”

      “You can try. But I don’t like your chances.”

      She harrumphed to let him know she didn’t agree, then crossed to the fridge and refilled his juice glass. Alice started fiddling with her buttons again and Pippa switched her to the opposite hip in the hope that it might distract her.

      “I have to ask—what’s with all the books on teaching?” Harry asked.

      “I’m studying to get my Dip. Ed.”

      “You’re going to be a teacher?”

      “No need to sound so surprised. It’s not that shocking.”

      “You’ve never mentioned it before, that’s all.”

      She pulled a strand of her hair free from Alice’s grasping fingers. “I need a job. A real job, not a joke job that I can pick up and put down whenever I feel like it.”

      Harry’s gaze went to Alice and she knew he understood.

      “Do you like it?”

      “Sometimes. I’ve had two class placements so far and they both went pretty well. No one died on my watch, at least.”

      “Setting the bar pretty low there.”

      “These days I find it’s best to have low expectations.”

      They talked about her studies as he finished his meal, leaving nothing but a thin trail of gravy. Testament, she hoped, to how much he’d enjoyed it. Afterward, he set his knife and fork neatly side by side on the plate and carried it to the sink. She watched as he glanced around for the dishwasher—there wasn’t one—then proceeded to wash his plate.

      “Wow. You’re actually house-trained. Who knew?”

      There was a reluctant grin on his lips as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Jesus, you’re a smart-ass. To think I used to miss you hanging around.”

      If the look on his face was anything to go by, he’d surprised himself as well as her with his inadvertent admission. She smiled, oddly touched, as he focused on rinsing his plate. She’d missed him, too, when things had gone south with Steve. Harry’s irreverence and easygoing charm had always appealed to her. In another time and place, perhaps, they might have been friends. In this lifetime, however, it was never going to happen. Too many old loyalties on his side and too many bad associations on hers.

      “I should get

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