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HARPER
*
STUART HAD ME ON DONUT duty again. I decided I needed to find a different job.
On my day off, despite being sleep-deprived, I hit a local club with a couple of my bandmates. Because all baking and no playing makes for a very dull girl.
But instead of dancing, we spent most of the night drinking our favorite poisons and sharing war stories about our past relationships. I really had only my short, failed marriage to talk about.
The Moscow mules hit me on the way home. I stepped out of the Uber and walked unsteadily up the driveway as I dug through my purse for the keys. Frustrated, I dumped the purse out on the guesthouse's porch and searched through the scattered items. Wow, I had a lot of lip glosses and lip balms...and receipts. No keys though.
I applied some lip gloss before shoving the stuff back into my purse. I smoothed my hair as I strode toward Rowley's back door. I knocked and waited. I knocked harder and Rowley finally answered wearing only a pair of jeans, and they weren't even buttoned all the way. I could see the thin line of hair bisecting his lower abdomen. I wondered if I'd subconsciously forgotten my keys just for an excuse to get an eyeful of him.
He had definitely bulked up since high school. His traps were impressive, his biceps bulged, and his triceps were beefy. I found myself mesmerized by the black ink tattoos I'd never seen before. Though the designs were intricate I was pretty sure, if I was very careful, I could trace every major line with the tip of my tongue.
"Harper?"
His gruff tone jolted my mind back into gear. I took a quick step backward and wobbled on my heels. "I'm sorry to wake you."
He scrubbed his hand through his sleep-mussed hair. "Are you drunk?"
I held up my hand, my finger and thumb slightly apart. "I'm a smidge tipsy is all." I was talking too loud. I attempted to modulate my voice as I continued. "I didn't drive and I locked my keys in the house. You wouldn't happen to have a second set?"
"You can't lock the deadbolt without the keys," he said.
"True. I just turned the thingy on the knob."
He gave me an admonishing shake of his head and then left me standing at the door. I could hear him yanking out drawers in the kitchen and rummaging around.
He returned with an even grumpier look on his face and a keychain in his hand. I reached out for it, but he didn't give it to me.
"Did you enroll?"
"Not yet."
"Stubborn wench," he muttered under his breath. "We're going to do it now."
I congratulated myself for making it up the drive fairly smoothly only to trip over the threshold once he'd opened the door. He caught me before I fell.
"Nice reflexes," I said with a giggle.
He was not amused.
"Okay, maybe I'm a bit more than a smidge tipsy."
He flipped on the lights, and headed toward the coffee table where my laptop sat. He dropped heavily onto the couch and then smacked the cushion beside him. "Sit here," he ordered.
I plunked myself down at the far end of the couch.
"How can you see the screen from there?"
Reluctantly, I slipped my purse off my shoulder, shucked off my shoes, and scooted down the couch toward him.
"Now pull up the cooking school site."
I was sitting close enough now to feel the heat of his skin. I imagined Kat was in misery not getting to wake up next to him. But it didn't excuse her stalking him...or me.
I reached out to the touchpad, hyper aware of his nearness. My hair should be standing on end from all the electricity he generated.
He ran his fingers lightly over my arm. "How are you cold? It's eighty out."
"Those are Rowley Ford goosebumps." A little vodka and my mouth just had a mind of its own.
"They're what?"
"I get them every time you touch me." I glanced over my shoulder at him. "You can't be surprised. My crush on you is the worst kept secret in town."
"I figured you'd grown out of it."
"Nope. Unfortunately."
I stretched toward my purse and managed to hook the strap with my finger. I dragged it toward me and dug out my wallet then handed him a business card which had been tucked in the billfold.
"What's this?"
"My girlfriend quit cigarettes because of that hypnotherapist. I'm going to see if she can rewire my brain—I mean thinking. She's pricey, but I figure it's worth putting in some overtime for."
Alcohol worked like a truth serum on me. And I was spilling secrets to the last person I'd ever intended to share them with. "I'm considered highly susceptible to hypnotic suggestion. At least, that's what the hypnotist performing at the dinner theater told me a few years back."
"Baby, as you said the other day, you quit shit all the time. You certainly don't need help with it."
"Gee, thanks for reminding me."
He dragged his hand over his face. "So what are you seeing her for exactly?"
"To help me quit you, of course. Thought that was obvious."
"Quit me?"
"Well, crushing on you. So I can get on with my life."
"You make me sound like a goddamn bad habit you need to break."
"You kind of are," I said with a chuckle.
His brow lowered. "Let's get this done."
I snatched the business card from his hand. "You're really being a grouch."
His jaw muscle was jumping as he took over and started typing in the information.
I tapped the screen.
"My last name. It's Newton."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I never bothered to change it back to my maiden name on my IDs."
"You sure it isn't that asshole you should be trying to forget?"
"Again, he's not an asshole just a little too clingy. And I'm not trying to forget you. I'm just trying to stop seeing you through a starry prism."
Looking aggravated, he returned his attention to the site, and began firing off the enrollment form questions. He was hitting the laptop keys much harder than he needed to.
It was one of those endless applications, and I started to droop. He caught me yawning and shot me a pissed off look. I made a point of sitting up straighter and holding my eyes open wide.
He asked for his credit card and I padded barefooted to the kitchen. I retrieved it from the drawer and returned with it. "Are you sure?" I asked as I handed it to him.
He took the card from me without a word, entered the information, hit the submit button, and then set the laptop on the table.
He headed toward the door without so much as a goodbye.
"Remind me never to wake you up again, Mr. Ford," I called after him.