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HARPER
*
THE TRUCK'S WHEELS squealed as he made an abrupt turn into the driveway. He brought the truck to a hard stop and then stepped out of it and slammed the door.
He unlocked the front door and pushed it open and waited for me.
I gave the cat one more snuggle and then set it on the porch and stood up. I brushed the fur off my dress before picking up my shoes. I slid in next to him as he held the door. His body radiated angry male energy.
I flipped on the light switches.
He shut the door and dug something out of his pocket and chucked it on the table. It was his smartphone battered almost beyond recognition. The screen was dead black and shattered in about a thousand places. That explained why he hadn't called.
He yanked loose his tie. "True to fucking form, you ran."
"But I came straight home." I responded which earned me a scowl. "I decided I wasn't going to let her separate me from you again without a fight."
"Who the hell is her?" He unbuttoned his collar.
“Your ex-girlfriend."
He looked bewildered. "Kat? Kat Ainsworth?"
"Wow, I have to hand it to her for keeping that scary stalker personality of hers under wraps for all those years she dated you."
“You’re saying she blackmailed you?"
"Yes. She threatened to send those pictures to a tabloid if I didn’t leave you.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because of all the time she'd invested in you. She thinks she's owed a ring."
"Invested in me? We haven't been together for years."
"But you were together at the medal ceremony last year."
"She talked your brother into bringing her. We weren't a couple. I don't know why he'd send you that picture."
"I can guess. Because when we'd talk I would always ask about you. And he'd say something like, I'm half a world away I have no idea how he's doing. He was probably trying to get me to move on."
Rowley reached above the refrigerator and opened the cupboard and took down the bottle of whiskey I’d very nearly polished off.
"Goddammit," he said, setting the bottle down hard on the counter.
"You've dated other people?" I asked timidly.
He didn't answer.
"What am I saying? Of course, you have."
A dismissive lift of his big shoulders. "Never anything serious."
Had Kat been the source of all the rumors about their relationship? "So, until now, Kat's just been dealing with unrequited feelings from a distance?" I certainly knew what that felt like. I could almost feel sorry for her.
"No, not from a distance. She's been difficult. I just thought that was all over."
He was clearly playing it down. She'd probably made his life a living hell. I could imagine her banging on his door in the middle of the night.
He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "Earlier you said 'again'."
He was watching me with a hard, assessing gaze that struck fear in me. Had I not moved the needle in my favor at all? Was there any point in recounting the most emotionally painful and embarrassing moment of my life?
"Harper, tell me what you meant."
I dropped my gaze to my white-knuckled hands still clutching the back of the dining room chair. Maybe it was time to let out all the poison. It might even be cathartic. I continued to stare at my hands.
"Kat knew I worshiped you and I guess she was sick of me mooning over you. She convinced me that you wanted to take me and not her to the prom. She acted like she was okay with it. Said she understood why you'd chosen me over her. I can't believe what a stupid, gullible child I was."
I choked up. I could still feel pity for my fourteen year old self. I swallowed hard. "She even brought me a dress. It had lace and tulle and tiny red bows. I thought it was beautiful at the time. Now I can only cringe thinking of it. I did my own hair and makeup and then sat as stiff as a board in the living room, afraid to mess up my curls. I really was convinced you were going to roll up in a limo at any moment and present me with a gorgeous rose corsage. Until my mother discovered me. She was furious I'd pulled all the drapes open in the living room and I had to explain what I was doing wearing that ridiculous dress."
"And that's when you disappeared from my life. Did you blame me? Did you think I had some part in that shit?
"I never ever thought that. You're one of the good guys. I've always known that. But it was just such a horrible experience and I needed to put it behind me."
"Did Matt know?"
I nodded. "Yes, my mother got a kick out of telling him. I swore him to secrecy."
My body was quaking. I'd spilled my heart and he was still standing, what felt like miles away, in the kitchen. I was so desperate for his comfort, for some physical contact with him that I released my hold on the chair and rubbed my arms. I felt pathetic and lost. "I can sleep on the couch."
"Take the bed. I'm going out for awhile." He scooped up his keys from the table.
He still blamed me for it all. I headed toward the bedroom, my gown dragging on the floor.
"Babygirl, you had better be here when I get back," he called after me.
***
I DIDN'T EVEN WANT to think about where Rowley had gone so late at night. I just knew it couldn't be anywhere good. I felt lethargic, drained of blood, and too spent to even cry. I crawled into bed in my dress and pulled the covers up to my chin. I wasn't expecting to be able to sleep without him, but the day had taken everything out of me, and I could feel myself drifting off.
I woke as the mattress dipped. Rowley had landed heavily on the bed. My nightstand light illuminated his state of inebriation. I could smell whiskey seeping from his pores. How had I not heard him stumbling around getting undressed?
He flopped to his side, facing me, and I could feel him getting tangled in my long skirt. "What the hell are you wearing?" He threw back the covers. The hand that clutched the covers was suspiciously raw.
"Off," he ordered.
I tugged hard but couldn't pull my dress free. He grunted as he shifted his weight so I could get it out from under him. I scooted off the bed and unzipped the dress and stepped out of it. I draped it over the chair even though I knew it was ruined, what with the grass-stained hem and the threads loosened by the cat's claws.
He was watching me through half-lidded eyes as I crawled back under the covers in my bra and panties. I'd never seen him this drunk before.
"Did you drive like that?" I asked.
"Nah, baby. Left my car in the bar parking lot and called for a ride." He was slurring a little.
"You've been at a bar all this time?"
"'Til they shut the doors."
As far as I knew last call was still two a.m. The alarm clock read four thirty.
"I was drinking with Newton. We were commiserating about what a pain in the ass you can be."
I shot up to a seated position and grabbed his hand and inspected his grazed knuckles.
"I didn't kill him if that's what you're worried about,” he said. “I punched a wall."
"So, what? You guys are friends now?"
"Let's just say we have an understanding...basically, what's mine is mine so hands the fuck off," he said. "You know a gentlemen's agreement."
I couldn't help but smile.
"And Kat?"
"I have a friend on the force who's going to have a talk with her." His eyes drifted shut, his thick black lashes shadowing his cheeks.
"He'll warn her that if she doesn't stop harassing you there will be a next step."
"And the next step will be..." I prodded.
"Restraining order." His voice trailed off on the last word.
I turned off the lamp and pulled the covers up around us. I relived the whole entire, awful evening over and over, until, mercifully, sleep finally took me again. I woke to sunlight seeping in through the windows. I got out of bed and adjusted the blanket over him.
I looked down at his face. His jaw was dark with stubble and the frown line between his eyes hadn't smoothed yet.
Typical Rowley, he was a solution finder. Always action before words. He'd set out last night to neutralize the ex-husband issue and had already arrived at a way to keep Kat out of our lives. I just wished he'd spared me some heartache. It wouldn't have taken much...just a hug and a few strokes of my hair.
I took a shower to wash off all of last night's failure and then dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. My head was pounding. I was still feeling hollowed-out and shaky. I needed water, food, and aspirin.
The scent of flowers hit me as I stepped into the living room. Roses of every color were everywhere. He'd used anything that resembled a vase and when he'd run out, he'd stuck them in tall cook pots and even loaded the sink down with them.
"They didn't have corsages." His voice sounded gravelly with sleep and too much drink.
I turned around to face him. His hands were jammed in his jean pockets. He looked unsure, vulnerable.
"How did you manage this? You were pretty drunk?" Actually he was probably still a little drunk. He hadn't slept long enough to sleep it all off.
"Three all-night grocery stores and a very patient taxi driver."
I fought my instinct to run to him. "The gesture is incredibly sweet."
His chest heaved. "But..."
"I needed you to be there for me last night."
"I was a complete bastard, leaving like I did. But I was so eaten up with jealousy I could barely function."
I headed to the bedroom and took his carry-on bag down from the shelf on his side of the closet.
He looked like a man who'd been blindsided. "What are you doing with that?"
"Packing for the culinary trip to Las Vegas."
His hazel eyes narrowed with skepticism. "I'm still recovering from last night's disappearing act."
"The important thing is I came back."
"This is not the day to be doing this," he said, his jaw set in a stubborn line.
"I realize I have a lousy track record, but it's different with you. How else can I prove it?"
He looked like a man about to lose everything.
"It's only for seven days."