“We’ve got six months.” He grinned at her, catching her gaze.
Harper smiled back. “I moved to California recently. I was in New York before that. I worked in a couple of costume departments on Broadway, but then wanted to try my hand at the movies.”
“Have you always wanted to be a costume designer?”
“I wanted to be some kind of designer. I studied fashion and design at college, then specialized in theatrical costume design. When I graduated, I was offered a job in New York and Caitie was setting up her own business there, so it seemed like a good idea to move to the city.”
“You and Caitie are close, huh?”
Harper shrugged. “We’re like sisters. I don’t have much family of my own, so she stepped in and became it for me.” She licked the salt away from her lips. “So, when she moved back here it made sense for me to move, too. There was nothing keeping me in New York.”
“You didn’t have a boyfriend?” He could feel his stomach tighten. It aggravated him. What did he care about her dating history?
“Nobody special. I dated, but that was all.”
“And in L.A.?”
She looked up at him, her eyes full of interest. “There was nobody there. I hadn’t been there long before I lost my job and everything went to shit.”
“When your department got shut down.”
“You remember me telling you about that?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I remember a lot about that night,” he told her. It wasn’t an exaggeration. The way her hair felt between his fingers, the curve of her hip as it flared out to her thighs, the way her sighs caught in her throat as pleasure captured the rest of her.
Yeah, he could remember it all.
“Do you regret it?” she asked him.
Her question took him by surprise. A bird skimmed across the water, calling out with a loud squa
wk. As she turned to look at it – a cormorant from the shape of its black body and long bill – he pondered her question. Did he regret that he was here, walking along the shore with her and that the new life she was carrying was a part of him?
“I don’t regret it, no.” His voice was firm. How could he regret the creation of a new life?
She looked away from the bird and into his eyes. “Nor do I.”
“You don’t?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips. “Not even with everything you’re going through?”
She stared into the distance, her chin tipped up, her neck long. Her lips were parted so he could see the white of her teeth and the pink tip of her tongue. He swallowed hard, feeling the flame of desire flicker inside him again.
With her eyes focused on a faraway point she shook her head. “If you’d have asked me about my plans for having babies a few months ago, I would have laughed in your face. I had no plans, no thoughts, nothing at all. Children were something I’d filed away as a distant concern for the future. Next to owning my home and getting in a monogamous relationship. But now that it’s happened I can’t regret it. This little thing.” She rubbed her stomach. “It’s a part of me. She’s changed me in ways I can barely fathom and she’s no bigger than the palm of my hand.” Her lips curled into a smile. “I feel protective of her already. And I can’t wait to meet her, to see what kind of personality she has, whether she giggles or guffaws.
“I can’t wait to see her grow and become a little girl. I didn’t have the easiest upbringing in the world, but I’m determined hers will be. She’ll know she’s wanted, that she’s loved. I don’t want her to have any doubt that she’s the number one in my life. It’s like all the things I’ve been through have been leading up to this.”
Damn, she was beautiful. Her face glowed as she talked about their child, her skin blooming, her eyes lighting up. The urge to lean forward and kiss her was overwhelming.
Yeah, and also dangerous. They had enough to deal with. His libido could go take a hike.
“You can’t always protect them,” he said, his voice thick. “Maybe that’s the hardest part about being a parent.”
She turned to him, her eyes glistening as they caught his gaze. “I heard about your wife and child. I’m so sorry.”
His gut clenched. In a way, he was glad he didn’t have to tell her. As the mother of his child, she had every right to know about his loss. And yet it felt like his skin was being flayed open, revealing tender flesh beneath.
“What was your baby’s name?” she asked softly, as though she could sense his turmoil.
“Jacob.”