More Than Anything (Broken Pieces 1)

She shook herself and gestured toward the car.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said impatiently, and he sighed roughly before nodding.

“Right.” The word was curt, and he opened the back door, bending over the seat and affording Tina an eyeful of his very nice butt in the well-worn jeans he was wearing. Damn the man for being so good looking. He had only improved over the last ten years. The surly handsomeness of his teens and early twenties had weathered into rugged gorgeousness that made him look a little more mature than his thirty years. He had grown bigger and broader, the lean athleticism of his youth hardening into a body akin to that of a seasoned street fighter. The slightly off-center nose that she had given him only served to enhance his masculinity into something edgier, almost dangerous.

It was unnerving being alone with him. For more reasons than just their unpleasant history.

Tina knew that, physically, she hadn’t changed much at all. The chubbiness of her teens, which her mother still optimistically referred to as puppy fat, hadn’t miraculously melted away. Instead she was still carrying the extra weight, especially around her butt and boobs. She had learned to live with that, and, while it had been a long, hard struggle, she had learned to like herself.

But being around Harris again brought back all those old insecurities and self-doubts, and she couldn’t wait for her life to go back to normal and for him to once again fade into the background, where he belonged.

He passed her an already-assembled little infant carrier, the handle of which she hooked over the crook of her arm; a large flat, square playpen; and a medium-size box adorned with a picture of a baby happily sitting in some suspended, swinging contraption. Fortunately, both boxes came with handholds, which made them easier to carry.

Jeez, she wondered, how much space was all this stuff going to take? It was a one-bedroom flat, and while she was happy to have Libby, she wasn’t sure the place was large enough for two grown women and an infant.

Harris surfaced from the back of his car, burdened with boxes of varying sizes. They were awkwardly shaped, bulky boxes, and carrying them looked like a bit of a juggling act. Tina looked down at the things she was carrying versus the load he had and frowned.

“Give me some of those,” she urged, and he threw her a disdainful look before pointing his jaw toward the door.

“Just go,” he commanded her in an insufferably bossy voice. She gritted her teeth and led the way back into the building. The stairs seemed longer and steeper than usual, and she did her damnedest to keep her breathing even, not wanting him to see her huffing for breath. She was used to these stairs, used to lugging her shopping up them, and when no one was around to see or judge, she quite happily puffed her way up them. But she’d be damned if she’d allow him to see her winded and carefully measuring each breath as she slogged her way up the sixty stairs to her floor.

She put the swingy-contraption box down and unlocked the door, stepping aside to let him in. He passed her and carefully placed the boxes on the floor. She followed with her own load and placed them with his.

“Thanks for your assistance. I’m sure you want to get some sleep,” she said pointedly. He planted his hands on his narrow hips and stared down at the boxes.

“You’re going to need help assembling some of this stuff,” he said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“It’s nearly four in the morning. I have to be up by six anyway. There’s no point going to sleep—I could just help you set everything up so that it’s ready for Libby when she gets here.”

“I can do it,” Tina maintained.

“I don’t doubt that, but doing it alone will take much longer. You might not finish in time.”

“Don’t worry about it. Goodbye, Harris.”

“For fuck’s sake, Tina!” he suddenly exploded, completely shocking her. “How long are you going to bear this unreasonable grudge against me?”

“I don’t think it’s unreasonable,” she said beneath her breath, and he swore again before running both hands through his thick hair and sucking in an uneven breath.

“It hasn’t escaped my notice that you’ve successfully avoided being alone with me for ten years,” he pointed out in a not-quite-level voice. “I’ve tried so many times, but you’ve never given me the opportunity to apologize. I was an idiot, Tina. I was a stupid kid, and while this isn’t an excuse, someone slipped something in my drink. It impaired my judgment, and I—”

“No! Stop.” She held up a shaking hand, her voice louder than she’d intended. But at least it had had the desired effect. It shut him up. “I don’t want to talk about this. Not now. Not ever.”