Page 47 of He Has Charm

She laughs and grabs her coat. I could live on that laugh. When she leaves, the crackle of energy and joy goes with her, which is strange. Because I could have sworn I was the fun one. I shrug off the idea that she might be an essential ingredient.

Finding an apron in the pantry, I put it on, smiling because it’s pink and it has the letters WWJCD? across the front in black with the fine print spelling it out. What would Julia Child do? Before I get any further there’s a knock at the front door followed by an insistent press of the doorbell. I check my watch and realize it’s my sister Katy. Shit.

I open the door and she launches into my arms. Lifting her from the ground, I swing her around and inside then put her down in the entry.

“How are you and that little bun you have in the oven?” She gets all giddy and dreamy-looking.

“Me and my bun are doing great, but shh, it’s still a secret.” Before closing the front door, I look around and don’t see her husband.

“Where’s that lucky bastard you call a husband?” She screws up her face in mock disgust.

“He had to work so I made my escape. Look at you all in pink. Are you cooking something for me?”

Before I can answer her, I hear the back door open and after a beat, Harper calls out, “I’m back with the ingredients and a surprise. Don’t try and get out of cooking now.”

Shit. Katy looks at me with wide eyes and flutters her eyelashes, stifling a laugh.

“Did I come at a bad time?” she stage whispers. She drops her bag in the entry and wastes no time marching toward the voice coming from the kitchen. I race ahead of her and block her entrance.

“My sister Katy got here early,” I say to Harper as if I’m guilty of something, as if I needed to prepare her, as if I needed to prepare Katy. Harper’s smile goes from pleasant to brilliant before turning wary. But that’s probably my fault because I’m behaving like an idiot with something to hide. Katy punches at my back and shoves me through the door because I let her, realizing I have nothing to hide. There’s absolutely nothing to see here.

“Hi, I’m Katy. And you are?”

“I’m Harper St. John, Maddox’s agent.” You would think she was welcoming Katy to a board room for a meeting with her poised professionalism showing in full force. Shit. Just when I was warming her up.

“Do agents always make house calls?” My sister half laughs as she takes off her coat, takes a stool at the counter, and gives Harper a good once-over while my poor agent, who I wish was my girlfriend in an alternate universe, let’s be honest, contemplates how the hell to answer that pointed question. Fuck.

“Long story,” I say. “Short answer is the Brawlers contract requires a handler and Harper is on duty. Which means she gets to be my roommate for the remainder of the season.” I hate giving Katy so much ammunition for endless teasing, so I’m not going into the details if I can help it. Too bad Harper didn’t get the memo.

“The Brawlers have tasked me with making sure Knight doesn’t get into any more trouble with women or—” Harper says helpfully, with that same formal warden voice, before I cut her off.

“They want me to keep my focus on hockey,” I say. Katy cracks up and points at me, shakes her head, and generally enjoys herself a great deal at my expense. I slide a look at Harper. She looks apologetic for a beat, but then she shrugs. I know she feels no obligation to tell anything but the truth. Katy finally calms down, blots the tears of hysteria from her eyes with a napkin, and smirks at me. The smirk is going to be like a tattoo on her face for the duration of her visit, I’m afraid.

“So you’re cooking to keep out of trouble, I take it?”

“Problem with that?”

“Yes,” Harper says. “I asked him to make spaghetti and meatballs.” She unloads the groceries and assembles the ingredients on the island. I remember she said something about a surprise.

“What was the surprise you brought?” I ask. She turns to me, unsure, poise gone, and I tell her with my eyes—hopefully—sending her the most intense reassuring stare I can—that whatever the surprise is it’s okay. I’m pretty sure it’s okay unless she brought home a sex toy—because that would be the biggest fucking surprise ever—and I can’t even say it would be an unwelcome one, even with my sister gawking. That’s how fucking far out of the friends-only mindset I am with her right now. Even after all my promises and good intentions and flat-out fear, she has me by the balls and confused as hell.

Another beat goes by and Katy goes from mildly curious to fucking suspicious with that calculating look she has. I turn back to Harper and nod.

“A bottle of red wine,” she says.

I let out a breath. Not so bad. Except from Harper’s perspective, drinking wine is very non-businesslike. I bet her idea of wining-and-dining a client doesn’t include her actually drinking wine. I haven’t seen her drink much alcohol since I met her.

“Good. It’ll go perfect with our meal,” I say, pulling out a large mixing bowl to get the game started.

“Are you sure I wasn’t interrupting anything?” Katy says in her sweetest, most mischievous voice.

“No. Of course not,” Harper says in a near panic. Shit. She sounds guilty as hell. “We were having an early dinner. We knew you were coming. I don’t even have to stay. In fact, I should leave—”

“You’re not leaving, su—Harper.” I restrain from physically holding her in place and dart an accusatory glance at Katy. She looks appropriately chagrinned.

“Of course you should stay. Please don’t let me interfere. I won’t be much help cooking, but I’m a great taste tester,” my sister says. Relief floods me that she’s back to good behavior, at least for now while Harper is in the room. Although I’ll need to watch it because I almost slipped and called her sugar buns. Shit.

My sister’s curiosity antennae are up and running and she’ll be us watching closely. She knows something isn’t quite right. I don’t want to give her the wrong idea about me and Harper. Not that I know what the right idea is exactly. But I do know I can’t let Katy think about wedding bells because that’s the first place her mind goes.