Early the next morning, while Mari was making breakfast, Hank came into the kitchen.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said.

Harper was still in bed, so it was just the two of them. She turned around, and when he reached her, walking with obvious discomfort, she threw her arms around him and held him tight.

“Now that’s a nice way to be greeted,” he murmured into her ear.

She smiled, then pulled back and looked at him. A moment later he pressed his mouth to hers then slid his fingers through her hair.

Finally, he released her, his gaze unfaltering. “I want you to know how happy you make me. How glad I am that you’re in my life.”

Heart soaring at his words, she couldn’t stop smiling. “You make me happy too, Hank. So very happy.” That was such an understatement. He filled her with joy, excitement, love. She didn’t want to think about how hard it would be when London sent for her and Harper. It had been nearly two weeks since she and Harper had arrived in Sacramento. The filming London was doing now would be finished soon. Mari had put that completely out of her mind, instead focusing on the present, but now that the end was drawing closer, she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Still, at that moment, she didn’t want to think about it.

“What are you making?” Hank asked with a glance at the stove.

“Oh!” Mari raced to the stove to flip the bacon over. Then she glanced at Hank over her shoulder as she laughed. “That was close.”

He walked up behind her and put his arms around her, then rested his chin on her head. Leaning back against his powerful chest, Mari closed her eyes and relished the moment. She needed to relish every moment, because she didn’t know how many more they would have.

“I was thinking of making omelets and smoothies.” She turned in his arms. “Does that sound good to you?” She loved cooking for him. More than she’d thought she would.

“That sounds perfect.” He smiled down at her before kissing her slowly and thoroughly.

The sound of Harper coming down the stairs reached them, and with terrible reluctance, Mari gently pushed Hank away.

He frowned, but he stepped back.

Mari busied herself with gathering the ingredients for the omelet, setting everything on the counter. “What’s on your schedule today?”

“Today,” Hank said as he picked Harper up and set her on a barstool before taking one himself. “Today I’ll get my hamstring worked on.”

“But today’s an easy day, right? Since you guys won?”

“Yeah. My main focus for the next couple of weeks will be getting my hamstring healed so I can get back on the field.”

Mari held back a grimace. She’d hating seeing Hank tackled, but it was even worse when she’d seen him nearly writhing in the end zone. Especially since she wasn’t there with him, couldn’t do anything to help him.

She whisked the eggs in a bowl, then looked up at him. “Does that mean you won’t be playing in Sunday’s game?”

At the frown on his face, she had her answer.

* * *

Hank hated that he had to miss any games at all, but he had to give his hamstring time to heal. “With any luck, I’ll just miss one or two games.”

Mari nodded, but he could see she was worried.

“It’ll be fine.” He said that as much to comfort her as to comfort himself. He really did believe this would be a short-lived issue. He would be back on the field in no time.

After enjoying a hearty breakfast with his favorite ladies, he kissed Harper good-bye, then sent her upstairs to brush her teeth, taking the opportunity to hold Mari in his arms and kiss her until she melted against him.

His feelings for her had grown much deeper than he would have thought possible in such a short period of time. He was in love with her, plain and simple. But this thing with London and with Simone added a layer of complication that frustrated him beyond measure.

“I’ll be home after lunch,” he said to Mari, then he kissed her once more before walking out the door.

* * *

Mari was done with the painting of Harper, and she decided it would be a wonderful gift for Hank. She and Harper were in their art studio, Mari putting the finishing touches on the painting, and Harper doing more finger-paintings—her favorite form of art lately.

“Do you need more paint?” Mari asked as she looked Harper’s way.

“I need more pink,” Harper said as she used a finger to paint a flower.

Mari squirted a bit of pink paint on the paper, then pointed to a colorful winged creature on the right side of the paper. “What’s that?”

“A flutterby.”

Mari smiled. “A butterfly?”

“Uh-huh.” Harper dipped her finger in the pink paint and drew lines radiating out from the yellow center of a flower.

“I love the colors you chose for your butterfly. And the pink flower is very pretty.”

“Thank you.”

Mari smiled again, then she went back to her own easel. She wanted to surprise Hank with the painting, so she took the canvas off the easel and tucked it in a corner where it could dry without being seen. Then she put a fresh canvas up and thought about what to paint next.

* * *

All Hank wanted was to hang out with Mari and Harper. He pulled into his driveway, parked in his garage, and shut off the engine. His hamstring was tender from being worked over, but that did little to distract him from his typical Monday-after-a-game soreness.

Groaning as he climbed out of his car, he turned his mind to how he would spend the rest of the day. Though he would need to take time to study game film, he was eager to be with Mari and Harper, and when he didn’t see them in the house, he went straight to the game room/art studio.

They didn’t see him when he walked in, so he took a moment to observe Mari kneeling beside Harper, showing her how to use her fingertips to create orange, yellow, and red leaves on a tree.

Watching her, he thought about her selfless nature, her sweet way with Harper, her talent and passion for painting, and how beautiful she was both inside and out. She was an amazing woman, a woman he wanted in his life. All the time.

He could see a life with her.

The idea kind of shocked him, but the more he considered it, the more he wanted it. The more he wanted her.

Mari was the woman for him. He was sure of it.

Smiling, he watched them a moment longer, and when Mari lifted her head and saw him, her face lit up in a way that told him exactly how she felt about him.

“Hank,” she said before pushing herself to her feet.

His smile only grew as she approached him. She stopped several feet away, then glanced behind her at Harper.

“My hands are dirty,” Harper said, holding up her paint-covered hands.

“Let’s get you washed up,” she said, then she glanced at Hank with a smile before turning back to Harper. “Then you can give your daddy a big hug.”

“Okay.” Harper ran into the bathroom, and Hank waited while Mari helped her get cleaned up. When they were done, Harper raced to him, then stopped. “Does your leg hurt?”

He bent to kneel in front of her, but his injured hamstring made it painful, so he straightened. “Yeah, it does. But I’ll be okay. It will get better soon.”

He held out his hand and she placed her hand in his.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” he said. “Then you can give me a hug.”

“Okay.”

They walked together, and after he sat down and pulled Harper onto his lap for a hug, he looked at Mari. She smiled softly, then joined them, sitting beside him on the couch.

He liked this, and it felt so right. The three of them. Like they were a family.

But when he remembered that he and Mari had to keep their feelings a secret—even from Harper—he bit back a frown.

* * *

“Is your leg hurting?” Mari asked when she saw Hank’s lips tug downward.

“It’s fine,” he said, then he placed his hand on hers.

Worried that he wasn’t telling her something, she pushed a smile onto her face, then she heard his phone vibrate in his pocket.

He released her hand and took the phone out, then shook his head with a deep frown. “It’s Simone.” He swiped to answer, and after a brief conversation, he disconnected the call.

“What does she want?” Mari asked, unhappy that Simone was interrupting her time with Hank.

“She’s at the front door.”

“What?”

“Yeah. She came to see how I’m doing.”

“What are you going to do?”

He set Harper on the cushion next to him, then stood. “I’m going to talk to her.”

Mari watched him go, disappointment growing within her. If Hank couldn’t get rid of her, her day would be ruined. Hopeful he would manage to send her on her way, she asked Harper if she wanted to finish her finger-painting.

“I want to make the tree with my finger.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

Although she couldn’t see through the windows of the main house in the bright sunlight, Mari looked in that direction anyway. What was Simone saying to Hank? What would Hank do?