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Harper’s heart skipped a beat when she pulled into the cafe’s parking lot. There was an extra large truck parked in the back corner and she knew exactly whom it belonged to.
Pulling into a slot, she waited. Should she go inside? She loved this cafe and every year on her way to the farmer’s market in Florence she stopped to get herself something sweet to start the day. But Mason was here and they’d left things off rather awkwardly last week.
Her thumbs beat an unsteady rhythm against the steering wheel. Would he think she was following him? He was more than likely going to the same market–their schedules were nearly identical this time of year–and it had never been a problem before.
“So why is it now?” she asked her empty car. “We’re friends, right?” She pulled back on the key, shutting down the engine. “Friends can randomly run into each other without it being a big deal.”
She ignored the fact that one side of her brain was flashing a red flag and the other was screaming with excitement at seeing the handsome giant again. How he could create two such contrasting emotions was truly remarkable, but she’d been nursing a slightly bruised heart during the last several days and she wasn’t eager to go through it again.
Their uncomfortable walk down the boardwalk was purely her fault. She should have told him no. Should have said she had to get the paints home. Should have done something, other than agree to stroll with him. She knew she’d given him the wrong impression and from the silence that followed them and his retreating invitations, she also knew he understood her lack of interest.
She snorted. There was no such thing as a lack of interest on her part, but she had definitely had the body language of someone like that and Mason wasn’t stupid. He’d taken her back to her car within a couple minutes of starting to walk. He’d clearly gotten the message.
Guilt had taken a long ride on her shoulders, along with a sadness that she’d struggled to shake. She felt guilty for leading Mason on and sad that she couldn’t pursue whatever this thing was between them. Oh, how she wanted to explore it. Her week had been colorless and lonely, even with Aspen and Maeve showing up for a game night.
Their laughter and antics usually broke up the monotony of living alone, but this time it hadn’t helped at all. When the women had left, Harper had gone to bed feeling worse than she had before they’d arrived. Not that any of that was Aspen or Maeve’s fault. Harper was the sole person to blame here.
She stood next to her car, keys biting into her fist as she stared down the entrance. She could do this. She was an adult and ran her own business, even if family money helped keep her afloat. She had managed to get herself through art school and move to Oregon on her own. She could do this.
Harper thrust back her shoulders. No man was worth making her cower in the corner. Mason was wonderful, but she didn’t need him in order to live a good life. When she made it as an artist, then she could look at opening up her heart. But until then, she could be professional and a friend. Two things that should be easy.
She grabbed the door handle and firmly jerked it open, hiding a wince when it practically crashed into the side of the building. Perhaps a little less enthusiasm, she scolded herself.
Refusing to look around, she headed straight to the counter, feigning an all-consuming interest in the glass display case, even though she knew exactly what she was going to get.
“Hi! How can I help you today?” a middle aged woman asked, wiping her hands on her apron.
“A cup of milk lemon loaf, and a chocolate croissant, please,” Harper said politely. There was movement in her peripheral vision, but Harper studiously ignored it. Real professional, she thought wryly. Something red was headed her way and her heart began to beat in a crazy rhythm.
“We’ll have that right out for you,” the woman said, a teasing smile on her face as her eyes went over Harper’s shoulder. “But I think you have a welcoming committee.”
Harper finally turned, Mason’s presence at her shoulder too much to be ignored now. “Oh. Hey, Mason.” She ignored the quiet chuckle of the woman behind the counter. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Mason gave her a half grin, which amazingly enough was even more attractive than his usual smile. “Hey, yourself. You headed down to Florence today?”
Harper nodded. “Yep. I have a booth there.”
He nodded in return.
“Are you carving live? Or just selling?” she finally asked into the silence.
“I have a booth as well, but I’ll be doing some carving.” He shrugged. “They didn’t hire me for that, but I booked two spaces so I could. It seems to gather a crowd and it’s good for business.”
“Right.”
“Here you go.”
Harper turned to see the woman behind the counter smirking and pushing forward a to-go cup of tea along with her wrapped pastry. “Thanks,” Harper said softly. She could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks and quickly turned away, holding up her items as an excuse. “Looks like I’m all set.”
Mason glanced at his watch. “We’ve got a couple minutes. Might as well sit down and enjoy it.” He waved toward a table.
“Uh...” Red flags waved in her vision. She knew he was just being friendly, but this was exactly what had happened last week. She really needed to put some boundaries into place if she was ever going to get over this crush. “That’s really nice of you, but I need to get there early,” she said lamely. “It takes a bit to unload all the canvases and make the booth look pretty, you know?”
Mason rubbed the back of his neck. “Yep. I get it.” He stepped back. “I’ll see you there then.”
Harper nodded a little too eagerly. “Yep. I’ll see you there.” She turned and headed back to the door. Guilt churned her stomach and she knew she’d never manage to get the croissant down.
Dropping her food and drink into the allotted slots in the car, Harper blew out a breath and bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. She’d done it. She’d turned him down in a polite and professional way, keeping their relationship from resembling anything but friendship.
Then why does it hurt so much?
She put a hand against her chest, trying to ease the sharp pain there. Why? WHY? She wanted to scream at the heavens. This wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t she have met him in a few years? Why did he have to be so nice? Why couldn’t life be simple enough that she could have both at the same time?
The first time’s always the hardest.
The words helped her calm down slightly. The thought was true. Stepping away from Mason would get easier. She just had to hold on until that time, then the tension between them would fade out and they could go back to enjoying each other’s company in an easy, friendly way.
*****
MASON SHRUGGED AT THE woman behind the counter, who shook her head.
“She’s crazy, that one.” She nodded toward Harper’s car for emphasis.
Mason forced a tight grin through his embarrassment. “We’re just friends,” he said, though no one had asked.
The clerk looked skeptical. “Uh-huh.” She turned her head away, mumbling under her breath.
Mason was glad he couldn’t understand the words. He was pretty sure they weren’t complimentary. He rubbed the back of his neck again. It felt hot, and though he shouldn’t have been surprised by her rejection, it still stung. He’d been hot and cold, sending her mixed messages and Harper had just set down the boundary of not being willing to deal with that.
Good for her, he thought. She deserves better.
He gathered what was left of his breakfast and walked out the door to his parked truck, but his mind was still with Harper. She did deserve better. She deserved a man who would worship the ground she walked on. One who had the time and money to smother her with attention and bask in her presence.
Mason wanted to be that man, but he couldn’t. “Which is exactly why you need to let her go,” he snapped as he practically tore his truck door off. The hinges protested his rough treatment and Mason purposefully slowed down. An expensive repair right now wouldn’t help his Find Aimee budget.
He pulled out onto the road, turning up the radio to keep his mind occupied, but after two minutes, he turned it back down. His head was beginning to pound and everything sounded like noise. He had about a half hour drive until he reached the market and Mason dreading every bit of it.
Normally these events were his creative outlet and chance to shake things up a little, but today he felt as if a dark cloud had settled over him. His brain and his heart were in a war and it was messing him up inside.
He liked Harper...a lot, but wasn’t in a position to have her.
That was it. End of story. It shouldn’t be this hard to get it settled in his mind. His time for a relationship would come, it just wasn’t right now.
He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. He had never been bitter toward his sister until the last few weeks and he didn’t like it. Aimee didn’t deserve his disdain any more than Harper his preoccupation.
“Seems like you’re just letting down all the women in your life,” he muttered. A buzzing sound pulled him from his self inflicted misery and Mason pushed the speaker button. “Yeah?”
“You sound like you’re driving, Sasquatch,” Crew teased. “Don’t tell me you’re heading to another one of those artsy shows.”
Mason rolled his eyes, but was grateful for his brother’s interruption. He and his thoughts weren’t getting along at the moment. “Whattya need, Shorty?” Mason asked. Crew wouldn’t be considered short by anyone’s standards, but when they were younger, Mason had needed something to respond to his own childhood nickname.
“Can’t I just call my brother to say hello?”
“You could,” Mason drawled. “But I know you better than that.”
Crew chuckled. “Fair enough.” He cleared his throat. “But seriously, did I catch you at a bad time? You really do sound like you’re driving.”
“I’m on my way to one of those artsy shows,” Mason confirmed. “You know, the ones where I wield a chainsaw and turn wood into a cool animal?”
“Hmm...” Crew responded. “I thought those were the ones where you sprinkled yourself with man glitter.”
Even Mason had to laugh at that one. “I’ve got a few minutes,” he finally said. “What do you need?”
Crew’s voice grew a little quieter. “Just wondering if you’d heard anything lately.”
Mason’s shoulders drooped. “I wouldn’t keep something like that from you,” he assured his brother. “If I find out something, you’ll be the first person I call.”
“I know, but I just...” Crew sighed. “Sorry. I know you wouldn’t hide something from me, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder what’s going on. Why has she been so hard to find?”
Mason didn’t answer. There was nothing to say. Nothing that would make them feel better. The only possible explanation was that she had somehow died, but even then, Mason felt sure that they should have been able to find the record. Unless she was a Jane Doe.
He shook his head, refusing to even consider the idea. If Aimee was dead, they would figure it out. Otherwise...well, she was just really good at keeping their mother at bay.
“Sorry,” Crew muttered, taking Mason’s silence as a scolding. “I guess it’s just been a difficult couple of days and I’m letting it get my mind churning.”
“What’s the matter?” Mason asked, trying to lighten the mood. “A kid bite your finger off?” Crew was a dentist, specializing in pediatrics, though he saw all ages.
“You should see where they tried to sew it back on.” Crew laughed. “It’ll make a great scar. Maybe I’ll catch up to you one of these days.”
Mason chuckled at the reminder. He had quite a few scars from when he was first learning to carve wood, including one just like what Crew described after Mason nearly lost his finger.
His mother had fainted and eventually swore he would never be allowed to carve again, but Mason just made sure she wasn’t around when he did it after that. Now as an adult, living in a state his mother called uncivilized, he did what he wanted and didn’t worry about hiding it, but there had been a few close moments during his teenage years.
“I thought you told me chicks dig scars,” Mason said without thinking. The comment immediately brought to mind the woman he would want to share those scars with. He cursed in his head. Those blue eyes were going to be the death of him.
“After this heals, I’ll put it to the test,” Crew replied, completely unaware of Mason’s turmoil. “You haven’t exactly been a shining example in the dating department.”
“Yeah, well...” Mason didn’t have a good comeback for that one. His mother constantly called him a hermit. She had no idea of his other activities. Crew might know what Mason spent his time and money on, but he didn’t realize it was the very thing keeping Mason from moving forward with his own life.
Patience, he reminded himself. Someday it’ll all work out. And when it does, you’ll find someone who makes you feel even better than Harper does.
“Yeah, well...” Crew imitated in a sarcastic tone. “Fess up, Sasquatch. Your appetite just terrifies all the women in that tiny town of yours.”
“You got me,” Mason said, praying his brother bought the false cheer.
“Well...when you do find that special someone who finally makes enough money to keep you fed, be sure and let me know,” Crew continued.
“Why’s that?”
“Haven’t you ever heard that the oldest has to fall first?” Crew said. “I’m not going anywhere until you test out this love thing and prove it won’t kill me.”
Mason grinned. His brother’s sense of humor was helping. “We might both die bachelors if that’s the case,” Mason warned.
Crew snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”