Undefeated (Unexpected Book 5) (15 page)

“Thank you,” he repeats back. “The three of you have brought some light into my life. Get some rest.” He lifts his hand, almost touching my face, but he hesitates and leaves without saying another word.

T
he doorbell rings right at eight thirty in the morning. I know who it is before I open the door. Porter. He’s wearing a leather jacket, a white button down shirt under it, and a pair of jeans. His friendly smile, as usual, is the first thing that greets me. After a few months, Porter and I have become friends. But there’s also some kind of attraction swirling between us. Often I find him watching me, winking at me, or just giving me a sexy smirk. I can’t help but smile back at him. At times, I find myself thinking about him. His coffee-colored eyes, that manly smell of his.

Every time I see him, something inside me stirs. It’s not only the outside. He’s just as beautiful on the inside. To say he’s wonderful doesn’t begin to describe him. He’s patient with my children, my aunt, and at times, even with me. Before I head to work at the godforsaken hours of the night, he comes to my house to keep an eye on Harper and Finn, so my aunt doesn’t have to wake up late at night. In the morning, he prepares them breakfast and walks with Harper to the bus stop.

Finn isn’t talking yet, but he can follow along Old McDonald animals. I want to think that imitating them is a promise that someday something will change. That he’ll come back to me. Then there’s my little Harper who is now a social butterfly. Not sure if it was the change in scenery, Aunt Molly, Porter or a combination but as Mom and Aunt Molly said, “things would get better in Portland.” Of course, I still miss Leo. They say it gets easier with time. But no, it doesn’t. He’s all I’ve known and loved since I was a teenager. It’s hard to look beyond our relationship and our old life. My heart might get a glimpse ahead, but my mind stops it with the reminder of what it could’ve been. Like when I look at Porter.

“Hey,” Porter says, as his fingers tilt my chin and our gazes lock. “What’s with the long face?”

“Hi,” I respond, with a small voice. “My mind got trapped where it shouldn’t, not today anyway.”

“Damn right.” He bends down kissing my nose. My breath hitches with the gesture. Damn it, what’s been happening between us? It’s nothing deep or serious but the stolen caresses and gentle kisses . . . they confuse the hell out of me. “Where’s the birthday girl?”

“Porter!” Harper yells, racing outside the house, leaping into his open arms. He sings happy birthday to her with that beautiful voice of his that makes me swoon like a teenager in heat.

“Are we ready to go?” He asks, setting her back on her feet.

“Yes, yes!” She jumps up and down and runs back inside the house.

We both enter the house. Porter shuts the door and Finn comes running toward him, jumping into his arms. “Good morning, sport. Are you ready to have fun today?” Finn nods, hugging his neck.

I turn to the couch to finish getting ready. I grab my infinity scarf and my jacket, hoping that I won’t need anything heavier for the day. “What’s the plan?” For the past week, we’ve been planning to do something special for my sweet girl that will keep her mind occupied. Porter said yesterday night, “Leave it to me.” I am, but I have to know.

“Seaside. It’s a small town an hour and a half from here. Close to the northern coast,” he explains, lowering Finn to the ground. “There’s an aquarium where the kids can feed fish to the seals and so many more activities that by the time we finish, they should be ready for bed.” The last word emphasized just when he reaches for the bottom corners of my jacket and helps me zip it as if I couldn’t do it myself. The slow movement of his hands gliding all the way up my torso makes me tingle all over. As it reaches the top, he lifts his hand, tucking a loose strand from my ponytail behind my ear. My mouth parts and I can’t remember how to breathe. Fuck, it’s just a freaking zipper, what is wrong with you today, Mackenzie? “What do you think?”

I bob my head in agreement, as there’s not one word I can come up with to answer his question. I can’t think. Confusion. That’s the only word that pops inside my head. To settle back down and act as the grown woman that I am, I walk to Finn who is now kneeling down while drawing on his new coloring book. “Time to go, baby, we’re going to celebrate Harper’s birthday.”

“Yes, my birthday.” She’s running down the stairs holding her jacket and Finn’s too. “Can you tell me now what the surprise is?”

Porter shakes his head, takes Finn’s jacket away from her and helps him put it on. “Time to go. If you have a lot of fun, I might give you your birthday present.”

Present, the best magic word there is to make a seven-year-old do whatever we want her to do.

Porter carries Harper’s sleepy body. Finn’s head hangs on my shoulder, his eyes half-asleep. After feeding the fishes, riding the bumper cars, the carousel, and walking along the arcade playing all the games they had, we were exhausted. We had dinner at the Astoria and rode the trolley. We missed the Maritime museum, roller-skating and ice cream time, but they were too fatigued to continue walking. The promise to go back there soon made the kids happy. At least Harper, who jumped up and down when we told her that would be our next outing.

Our next outing . . . when did we become this little family that shares so much together? Should I look more into what is going on between Porter and me?

“Babe, I’m settling Harp on her bed. Get them ready for the night while I head to the garage for her present. Did you change her bed with the new sheets?” Babe? It takes a minute for what Porter called me to register. He said it so naturally I don’t think he realized what he said. He’s left me stunned, so I just nod as he leaves the room.

In the mean time I hurry before he’s back with the presents. Harper has been asking for her own room and, of course, that’s close to impossible. My job only covers the daily expenses, but I hope that next year I can find a position that pays better. I sold the house in Colorado, but I don’t want to use the little money that I made for a down payment to buy another house. At least not until I’m working at a place that gives me better benefits and of course, an increase in salary.

She wants a pink room with a dollhouse bed and flowersu. Porter came up with a few ideas that included a dollhouse headboard that he made. We bought decal flowers that will go on her side of the room and some farm animals that will go on Finn’s side to make it fair. For his birthday next year, Porter wants to build a farmhouse headboard. Unless his interest for animals is gone and we’ll have to rethink the theme.

“Thank you for my birthday, Mom,” my sleepy Harper murmurs as I tuck her in bed after putting on her pajamas.

“I love you, baby,” I whisper and her eyes close again.

And while Porter moves her bed to set the headboard, she remains asleep. When he’s done, I set the new soft pink comforter down and we put the decals on top of her night stand so she can decorate with them tomorrow morning. Maybe Porter was right; we should have done this last night. Waking up to a new room on her birthday would’ve been a bigger surprise.

“Thank you, for everything you did today,” I whisper, as I make sure both of my kiddos are properly tucked inside their beds. “The room, the trip, everything. You know the area well. Do you go out often?”

He gives me his signature shrug and I’m hoping this is one of those rare occasions when he’ll confide in me.

“No. My foster parents’ home is in Washington State. Not far from here,” he says. The nostalgia he carries when he talks about them is infiltrating the air we breathe. “Their parents took us—me and their triplets—there a couple of times. James and Janine were cool with me.”

“Sounds like the family is lovely.”

“Let’s go, you need to sleep.” Porter takes my hand and guides me outside the room. The conversation is over before it began. So much for him opening up to me. At this rate, I’ll die before I get to know him better.

“Don’t worry about me, I took a day off today,” I respond. “I’m rested.”

He lifts my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist. “I wish I could stay, but I have to go to work.”

I don’t want him to go, but I don’t tell him that. There’s no reason why he should stay with me tonight—or ever. Unless I count the fact I feel alone and cold today—more than usual. That being with him makes everything less . . . Everything is easier to cope with when he’s around. The loneliness dissipates.

“You okay?” I nod. “Are you sure? Because the last thing I want to do is leave you alone when you need me.”

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” I lie, because I do want him to stay longer. “Thank you again, for everything that you did for us today. Try to rest after your shift.” With a final goodbye, he leaves the house, and I regret not asking him to stay a little longer.