His Baby Dream

Guiltily, Harper realized that she hadn’t thought about her daughter in over an hour. Still, she’d resolved not to be a helicopter parent, and Mia could reach her by phone if necessary. “She went to Disneyland with my friend Stacy. It’s her fiancé’s first visit and they thought it would be more fun with a kid.”

A Frisbee flew toward them from a group of teen boys. Peter caught it easily and skimmed it back. “You don’t worry about her?” Quickly, he added, “Not that you should.”

“Stacy’s a nurse and her fiancé’s a doctor, so she’s in good hands,” Harper said.

The crowd on the beach grew thicker as they approached the pier, forcing them to weave around sunbathers and picnickers. “Want to grab a bite at the café?” Peter asked. “I don’t mean to interrupt your photo session.”

“Oh, the light’s too harsh now, anyway.” Harper laughed. “That was rude, wasn’t it? Like I’d only join you because the light’s bad for picture-taking.”

Peter unfurled a smile. “I appreciate the frankness.”

“I’m sure Angela was way more tactful.” She halted, regarding him apologetically. “I’m running off at the mouth.”

“Nothing wrong with talking about Angela.” Peter held out a hand to help her up some large rocks that abutted the pier. “I mentioned Sean, didn’t I?”

“I guess you did.” His grip sent prickles along Harper’s arm. Reaching the wooden quay, she released his hand quickly.

They strolled past boat slips and, on the inland side, boutiques selling beachwear, surfboards, hats and anything else a tourist might buy. At the Sea Star Café, they were lucky enough to snag a booth by the window.

“I’ll get the food,” Peter offered, since the café served from the counter. “What would you like?”

Harper handed him a twenty-dollar bill. “I’ll have a cranberry muffin, a blueberry muffin and a cup of chai, and don’t even try to pay for it.”

Peter’s eyebrows drew together. “Okay, but—is that what you’re eating for lunch?”

“Why?”

“Not exactly a balanced diet.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a health nut.” She bristled at the idea of someone dictating what she ate. This was her free day.

“No, it’s just that as a...” He floundered for a moment. “I figured that, as a nurse, you’d be a stickler for nutrition.”

“Sean used to get on my case about carbs,” she responded testily. “It was all protein and vegetables with him. I’m making up for lost time.”

“Okay, okay.” Peter raised a hand placatingly. “Just asking.”

Harper hadn’t meant to start an argument. By the time he returned, carrying a tray between the crowded tables, she regretted snarling at him. “Thanks, Peter. I’m sorry about biting your head off.”

“I can take it.” He set her cup of tea and the muffins in front of her.

“Usually I eat healthy stuff, but today when Mia isn’t here, I don’t have to act like a grown-up.”

“No explanation necessary.” On his plate rested a whole-wheat pita sandwich bursting with sprouts, hummus and lettuce. “I wasn’t trying to control you. That’s what comes from being a teacher, I suppose.”

“Especially a biology teacher?” she teased.

“I’m glad you equate that with healthy habits.” Peter took his seat. “Some women draw other conclusions about my expertise in biology.” His cheeks reddened. “Man, that came out wrong.”

“Good thing this isn’t a date,” Harper told him. “Just think of me as Sean with, well, a few distinctions.”

“I’m trying not to think about those distinctions.” He turned an even brighter shade. “Seriously, I don’t know where this stuff comes from.”

“Most men wouldn’t apologize, they’d move in for the kill.” Harper had fended off more than a few piranhas, including men accompanying their pregnant wives to Dr. Franco’s office. She felt sorry for any woman married to a creep like that. “Um, as long as I have your attention, can I pick your brain?”

“By all means.” He regarded her over the pita.

“I’m planning a birthday party for Mia that won’t cost much.” As they ate, Harper explained the situation, concluding with, “Any ideas about what I could do in my backyard?”

She wasn’t sure why she expected a childless man to come up with an answer. Still, as a teacher and a sports camp leader, Peter had experience with groups of kids, Harper reflected as she watched him study the sailboats in the harbor. It was hard not to sneak glances at his appealing profile.

And hard not to notice that he’s all guy. Confident, physically attuned men drew her, and Peter had that in common with Sean. Like Sean, he was also a little domineering, she reminded herself. It wasn’t a bad trait, just unsuited to her.

Clear blue eyes refocused on her. “My personal philosophy is Never Miss a Chance to Teach.”

“Even at a birthday party?”

“The average backyard is a paradise for biologists.” Pushing aside his empty plate, he planted his elbows on the table.

The only backyard biology that occurred to Harper involved a shady bower, protective bushes and activities wildly inappropriate for a children’s party. However, they’d already dismissed that topic, and thank goodness.

Hoping her thoughts didn’t show, she said, “I could put them to work planting a vegetable garden. Adrienne did that last spring when she was watching Mia and Reggie. My daughter swears they dug for hours, although mostly I think they played in the dirt.”

“Might be kind of messy for a party,” Peter said.

“I agree. What else did you have in mind?”

“Bugs.” He gave the word a lilt, as if it ought to pique her interest.

“Spoken like a biology teacher.” Nevertheless, Harper supposed bugs might make an interesting theme. In her experience, kids seemed to love eating Gummy worms and chocolate mud pie cupcakes. “I could design invitations and decorations on that theme,” she mused. “It wouldn’t be hard to come up with bug-related games, either.”

“If your backyard is like most people’s, I’m sure you can find anthills, ladybugs and spiders.” Peter’s face lit up with enthusiasm.

“You mean, real bugs?”

“Magnifying glasses should make good party favors.”

That did sound like fun, if handled right. “What would the kids do?”

“Spot bugs and identify them,” Peter said. “In the process, they’ll learn about the creatures that share our lawns and homes.”

“Our homes?” Harper shuddered. “Not mine, thank you.”

“Even in a clean house, you’ll find tiny spiders, and if there are spiders, they’re eating something,” he observed. “Plus our clothes and sheets are loaded with microscopic dust mites.”

Harper raised her hands. “Too much information.”

“Sorry.” Peter ducked his head. “I get carried away.”