What a perfect day for the last appointment on the schedule to cancel.

Between the two of them, it would have been difficult to say who was more excited about Harper’s third day with Frankie—Logan or Harper—but Logan felt confident he hid it better. Now that his workday had ended, however, he could head next door to Frank & Signs to see how things had gone between his precocious child and their new friend.

Over the couple of days since they’d met, Harper and Frankie had painted the lamp and mirror frame in several steps—something about taming the bright brass of one and tying it together with the antique gold of the other. It involved individual coats of soft white and gray paint, followed by antiquing with stain. When Harper pointed out how some of the gold and brass showed through, Frankie had assured Logan, confidentially, that it was meant to be sloppy, and that Harper had done an excellent job with the painting under her direction. As a project that hadn’t exacted precision, it had been the perfect choice to boost an independent child’s confidence.

Today’s tasks, Harper had informed him on their drive to school, would require assembly of some sort. With actual tools. “Paintbrushes don’t count,” she’d insisted when he tried to assert that she’d been using tools. As for the day’s progress on the lamp-clock-mirror, he would get a thorough rundown, in exhaustive detail, by his enthusiastic daughter on their drive back to the bed and breakfast afterward.

To be honest, Logan had been reluctant to consent to the after-school arrangement. Could he trust the judgment of someone who didn’t question the wanderings of a ten-year-old suspiciously devoid of supervision? What did he know about this woman? Would she be a good influence on his little girl? If it hadn’t been for Lucy’s assurances, he never would have allowed Harper to go back to Frank & Signs the next day, but his receptionist had been convincing. Besides, with Harper’s grandmother no longer taking care of her whenever he was at work, Harper needed a new caretaker, and why not have her next door and doing something she enjoyed?

With as quickly as Harper had taken to Frankie, his latest concern was if the two would get too close. It would be just his luck if Harper bonded with someone who wouldn’t be in her life in another month. One project wouldn’t be too much of a risk though, would it?

With Harper starting the fifth grade, she was better equipped to understand who was permanent in her life and who wasn’t. Unlike four years ago when Christina had been taken so abruptly, leaving them alone to figure it all out. That had been hard. As had been all the times Harper latched herself onto a piano teacher or work associate of Logan’s or the babysitter. But that had been a couple of years ago. He was probably safe, albeit gun-shy and cautious.

The reason for his rationale, if he was being honest with himself, was because he wanted to get to know Frankie better himself. Something about her drew both him and his daughter in. Her playfulness, quick wit, and easy smile made everyone feel comfortable around her. Was it his imagination that she reserved a little something extra for him? Their silly banter, the sparkle in her eyes—every day he wished away the hours until he could pick up Harper so he and Frankie could share more of it.

Closing the clinic for the day, Logan strolled past the few things Frankie had displayed on the sidewalk—an old door with shelves, a sign with a Maya Angelou quote hanging at the top that read “All great achievements require time,” a stool constructed of a rusty milk can with a metal tractor seat attached—and wondered why he’d been so upset about their presence outside her shop days before. The display was tucked tight to the building under the awning, leaving plenty of room for a person to walk around.

If things went well, Logan planned to ask Frankie if she wanted to grab a soda or something with him and Harper. Would it be too soon in their friendship to invite her to dinner? Considering he didn’t have access to a kitchen to cook, and he and Harper had to eat … This living in Cobble Creek was looking like a pretty good decision for him and Harper.

Before he could decide how he should ask Frankie out, Logan was at her door, opening it and listening for the light jingle of the bell. An orange cat—wasn’t it Lumière or something? He couldn’t remember—slipped through the door and was underfoot. Reacting quickly, Logan steadied himself between the doorknob and the doorframe.

There was that laugh he loved so much, Harper’s childish giggle he wanted to remember forever, followed by Frankie’s happy voice. “I think we need to install a pet door, don’t you think, Harper?”

Relieved he hadn’t fallen on his backside in front of the person he wanted to impress, Logan walked in with as much dignity as he could scrape together. Nothing like a homeless street cat to humble him.

“You have it out for me with that cat, don’t you?” He smiled to show he was kidding.

“I’ve trained him well.” Frankie looked over her drugstore readers at him, a granny look without the gray hair.

“Do you think he’ll come visit us at the bed and breakfast, Dad?” Harper giggled uncontrollably.

The two were thick as thieves already. So much for them not getting too close. At first glance, the two of them together with their long, dark brown hair and smattering of freckles, Harper and Frankie could be mother and daughter. The thought scared him. He couldn’t allow Christina to be replaced, but he couldn’t exactly pull Harper away from this arrangement with Frankie—not without some concrete reason, which he didn’t have at the moment. Maybe after the project was done, he could make other childcare arrangements.

This line of thinking wasn’t helping. There was nothing wrong with Harper having a friend, even a mother figure. He gulped. He couldn’t do that to Christina.

“Did you finish your project?” While he hoped the answer was yes to put some space between Frankie and Harper, he still wanted a reason to see Frankie himself. Man, he was messed up. A pretty woman hadn’t confused him this much in, well, four years, in fact.

“We did!” Harper grabbed his hand and dragged him to the workbench as she had frequently over the last few days. He had the feeling she would drag him around forever, and he would like it. “Come see it. It’s amazing! And Frankie let me drill the hole through the glass and everything!”

Logan cut his eyes toward Frankie. Obviously, she was fluent in reading worried dad looks, because she quickly followed up Harper’s comment with a qualification of her own. “She was wearing goggles and gloves, the glass was taped so it wouldn’t shatter or splinter, and I held the drill with her.” Frankie looked at Harper with a soft smile. “But she pulled the trigger, so it was all her.”

Every time he was determined to dislike the woman, she did something to win him over again.

The clock stood next to the red, green, and navy checked overstuffed couch that looked vaguely familiar. Wow, he must have spent more time in this room than he realized. He shook his head and moved his eyes back to the clock.

“I have to admit, ladies, that is one fabulous clock!” He accepted Harper’s hug, feeling the strength of her confidence and pride in that squeeze. “I know it’s for the art festival, but any chance I could buy it after?” He directed the question to Frankie.

“I don’t know,” she hedged. “I’ll have to think about it. I mean, I have other buyers who actually appreciate upcycling …”

“Is that what you call it?” That was a new one to him. “Then why does your sign say antiques?”

“Because nobody knows what upcycling is.”

“Exactly.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “How do I know you’re not making this up?”

“Because it’s a thing. Google it. Watch some HGTV. Live a little.”

“Hey.” He feigned offense. “Just because I’ve never heard of this upscaling thing—”

“Upcycling,” she corrected.

“Upcycling thing, doesn’t mean I don’t live. There’s actually more to life than Frankensteining furniture.”

Now she put her hands over her heart, pretending to be hurt. They both laughed.

“So you like it, Daddy?”

Logan put his hands on his hips, leaning over slightly to look his daughter in the eye. “It is amazing and beautiful and clever—just like you.” He continued his look for a few seconds longer, but Harper interrupted his seriousness.

“Oh, Dad, you always say that!”

“That’s because I always mean it.” He stepped over to inspect their contraption. “I really, really, super-de-duper, absatively, posolutely mean it.”

“I knew you would!”

Harper practically bounced to the couch to pick up her backpack, and Logan realized now was probably the time to ask Frankie his big question.

This wasn’t going to be easy. It would be the first time he’d asked anyone out for a first date in a dozen years or so, but there was something about Frankie that compelled him to try. He took a breath of courage. “Frankie, I—”

“There’s something I wanted to ask—” Frankie said at the same time.

Hmm … maybe she was going to ask him?

Of course, he’d be the gentleman. “You first.” He swept his open palm in front of them, offering the floor when he’d been about to offer himself.

“Are you …” Frankie blushed.

This is it. Logan couldn’t believe his luck.

“… seeing anyone?”

He tried not to look too eager. “No, actually, I’m not.” He swallowed.

“What would you think of …”

He wanted to urge her to come out with it, but it was kind of cute how she was stumbling over saying the actual words.

“I think you should ask Brooke to go out. You’d be great together. What do you think?”

His throat went dry. How had he completely misunderstood the signals?

Brooke. Frankie wanted him to go out with her best friend. Maybe he wasn’t ready to date yet.

Frankie’s hazel eyes pled with him, persuading him into something he had no desire to do. It had to be the freckles across her delicate nose—so much like Harper, who he could never deny. He hoped Frankie never noticed the similarity and use it to her advantage.

“Harper and I could have a girls’ night, watch the live-action Beauty and the Beast or something …” Frankie turned to Harper, who’d come back to his side before he’d realized it. “Sound good to you?”

“Yes!” She nodded vigorously and then set puppy-dog eyes on Logan.

These two. They were too much.

“I …” He felt like he was drowning. “I’ll think about it.” Disappointment plummeted like a rock into the canyon of his stomach, but he hoped he was convincingly nonchalant. If he could appear that it didn’t matter, maybe she wouldn’t notice he’d been about to ask her out. If she didn’t think of him that way, he shouldn’t either.

Logan turned to his daughter, passing off his discomfort as concern over Harper’s feelings. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Harper nodded before he could even finish, so he looked at Frankie. Maybe she could see the folly if he explained it fully. “You would be okay with me going on a date that’s not really a date because it’s just one evening and won’t go anywhere?”

“Well, of course it won’t—not with that attitude, anyway,” Frankie muttered, and Harper laughed.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m totally okay with it.”

That wasn’t how either of them was supposed to respond. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

Nope. Not interested at all.