Chapter 7
Harper Ellison turned out to be nothing at all like what I’d expected when I picked her up earlier this evening.
She might be my wild-child sister’s friend who seemed to be drifting through life without a long-term plan, but she’d revealed layers and depths that made it impossible not to like her and maybe even admire her.
In spite of her inexperience with formal galas and her nervousness, she’d appeared to fit in just fine. It didn’t hurt that she looked like a million dollars in that classy but sexy-as-hell dress that had nearly been the death of me with all its access to her soft, tempting skin.
That first time I’d touched her, outside of the SUV, had been purely motivated by the urge to comfort her. I’d had to fight to cover the effect her bare skin and the curve of her hip had on me.
I would admit, only to myself, that I’d intentionally found a dozen more opportunities to rest my hand on her side throughout the evening, like a kid who couldn’t keep his hand out of the candy dish even though he knew he’d get in trouble for it eventually.
And then the dancing…
Harper had been all about the dancing, saying it was much easier than making conversation with people she didn’t know. She’d pointed out the irony of trying to socialize with education types, as she’d called them, when she’d barely made it out of high school. So we’d spent plenty of time out on the dance floor.
I’d kept a tight rein on myself, ensuring there was always enough distance between our bodies, even though I’d been aching to pull her into me. Someone was likely to snap photos of us that would undoubtedly get back to Dragonfly Lake for the whole town to see—including her father.
Her acceptance of Naomi’s award had done as much to leave me wanting her as her gracefulness on the dance floor and the alluring feel of her body had. When we’d sat down to dinner and she’d confessed she hadn’t prepared a speech or even any notes, my gut had twisted with nerves on her behalf.
You really didn’t plan out what to say?I’d asked.
With her brows raised, she’d shaken her head. That would be a disaster. I’d forget everything.
I couldn’t imagine not writing out remarks word for word and taking a note card to the podium with me, but of course it’d been too late for that. And she didn’t want it.
When it was time for her to speak, she’d blown me away and brought the entire ballroom full of people to tears, her voice breaking a couple of times as she talked about the way Naomi had changed Harper’s life for the better and inspired everyone she met.
I didn’t know how she did it, but Harper rocked the hell out of winging it.
When she’d returned to our table afterward, I’d stood and hugged her, not paying any heed to the flashes going off around us, just wanting to convey without words that she’d done an incredible job of paying tribute to her friend.
No doubt one of those photos would reach my boss, but there was nothing sexual about the moment, and I wouldn’t apologize for it.
Even if I’d likely have hot, bothered dreams all night starring Harper.
Midnight had come and gone, and we were almost back to Harper’s house. She’d been chattering the whole ride home about inconsequential topics, some recapping the gala, others just random thoughts that seemed to cross her mind out of nowhere. She was either decompressing from the stressful night or avoiding sad thoughts of Naomi or both.
I didn’t mind it, and I commented whenever it was appropriate. I was enjoying the peek into her admittedly all-over-the-place mind. She was smart even though she wasn’t a fan of school. She was well-rounded and had experienced a lot of things, even if a formal event in a large city wasn’t one of them. And she made interesting observations that never would’ve occurred to me.
When we approached her driveway, she went quiet, as if she was all talked out and ready for the night to end. I turned in and noticed out of the corner of my eye when Harper stiffened in the passenger seat, her attention focused on the house down the half-mile-long driveway.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my gaze following hers.
“I didn’t leave any lights on. I never do. I always forget.”
The windows in front and on the driveway side were dimly illuminated. I noticed a car by the detached garage that hadn’t been there earlier.
“Whose car is that?” I asked as I stopped even with the front walkway.
“I don’t know,” she said slowly.
“Is the studio open?”
She shook her head. “It shouldn’t be. No one has keys except me.”
We couldn’t see the entire studio from here because the house blocked half of it, but the part we could see was dark.
“I wonder…” she said, her voice trailing off uncertainly. “The only person I can think of is Naomi’s brother.”
“Are you expecting him?”
She shook her head, her gaze back on the house. “I mean, we kind of expected him to show up for Naomi’s funeral, but he never did. No one has heard from him since she died.”
I frowned, instantly suspicious. “You think he has the keys to Naomi’s house?”
“He’s half owner.” Harper released her seat belt and picked up her bag.
“How well do you know him?”
“I’ve never met him. They weren’t close.”
“I’m coming in with you,” I said, all kinds of warnings going off in my head.
When she didn’t argue, I knew she was uneasy too. As we walked to the front door, though, she said, “I’m sure I’ll be okay. You need to get home to Daniel.”
“Dakota’s doing just fine.” My sister had texted me a selfie of her and Danny at story time, reading Goodnight, Moon, and another fuzzy shot taken by the light of the night-light in Danny’s room, showing him asleep in his crib. “Keys?” I held my hand out.
Harper handed them over. I unlocked the door and pushed it open, entering before Harper could.
The light came from the room to the left, opposite the kitchen. As soon as we shut the door, I saw a large man sprawled on his stomach on the sofa. He muttered something unintelligible. On the coffee table in front of him was a cocktail glass and a mostly empty bottle of scotch. The guy rose to his elbows and slowly opened his eyes, looking as if he’d been in a fight, his hair a mess, dress shirt untucked and wrinkled, suit pants slightly off-center and also wrinkled.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, his words not entirely clear, but I couldn’t tell if sleep or alcohol was to blame.
I stepped in front of Harper. “Same question for you.”
“I asked you first,” he slurred, confirming scotch was the cause.
“Ian?” Harper said, stepping up beside me.
The way his head popped up told me that was his name.
“Pretty,” he said quietly, as if to himself.
No way was Harper staying here tonight.
“Mind your manners,” I snapped.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I live here,” Harper said. “I’m Naomi’s roommate. Was.” She frowned.
“My sister never mentioned any roommates.” He missed pronouncing the t in roommates.
“When was the last time you talked to your sister?” I asked.
He stood, swaying a little. “You got a lease?” His tone was cold, angry, as he ignored my question and addressed Harper.
She flicked a glance up at me, and I instantly guessed she and Naomi didn’t have a written agreement. “I pay rent every month. You can trace the money that way.”
“This’s my house now.”
“I’ve been running the studio since Naomi…” Harper said. “A lot of people depend on the art studio to be open.”
“Don’t give a fuck about any studio.” With shaky hands, he emptied the bottle into his glass.
“It was important to your sister,” Harper said, but there was no point in reasoning with this asshole.
“You’re not staying here,” I said to her in a low voice.
“I live here. He doesn’t,” she said.
“If he owns it…”
Her shoulders fell.
“Naomi’s not here,” Ian said after downing half his glass. “You need to leave.”
“We’ll be getting some of her belongings from her room,” I told him.
He grunted, then said, “Then get the fuck out. My sister is fucking dead.”
“Go pack a bag,” I said quietly to Harper. “I’ll wait down here.” I didn’t trust this guy for a minute. He looked likely to pass back out, but I wasn’t taking any chances. There was no way in hell I’d let Harper deal with him alone.
Harper stared at him as if she wanted to say more.
“You can stay in my guest room,” I told her. “You’ll have the whole lower level to yourself.”
She met my eyes, looking like she wanted to argue, but then she nodded. “I’ll be back in five.”
I watched Naomi’s brother, but it turned out to be unnecessary as he seemed to forget I was there. He pulled a knitted blanket over himself and passed out again. He was snoring within two minutes.
I heard Harper descending the stairs and met her at the foot of them. She’d changed out of her dress and wore denim cutoffs and a ladies-cut tee. Her kill-a-man heels had been replaced by running shoes. She carried a mini backpack.
Her eyes were wide as she glanced back at her friend’s brother, then up at me, looking for a second a lot younger than she was.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
Without a word, she preceded me out the door. I still had her keys, so I locked it behind me. With my arm at her waist again, I had the fleeting thought that I missed the revealing dress and the feel of her bare skin, but I needed to shove that right the hell out of my mind. It was going to be dicey enough having her one floor down in my house when I was sure my brain would hold on to the way she’d looked all night. The way she’d felt.
“Are you okay?” I asked once we were in the SUV with the engine running.
Harper frowned. “Annoyed,” was her response, which wasn’t at all what I’d expected. “I get that he owns the house, but I’ve been living there, paying rent, for three years. He can’t just kick me out on the street.”
“We can take that up with him when he’s sober. I wasn’t about to leave you alone with him.”
“I’m glad you were there.”
I had a strange urge to take her hand, but I resisted it.
Ten minutes later, I pulled into my garage, passing Dakota’s car in the driveway.
Harper sat up straight. “Dakota’s still here?”
I laughed. “Of course. She can be flaky sometimes, but so far she hasn’t left Danny alone when she’s supposed to be taking care of him.”
“Right. Duh. I…don’t want her to see me.”
“Why not?”
“She’ll jump to the wrong idea.”
“Probably, knowing her. We don’t have anything to hide though.”
“I know that, and you know that, but do you think she’d ever believe it?”
“You know my sister pretty well, don’t you?”
“Know her and love her, but she can be like a bulldog.”
“Wait here. She’ll be gone in five minutes, and then you can come to bed.”
As her brows shot upward, I realized my error. “Then you can come inside, I’ll show you to the guest room, and you can go to bed,” I corrected.
And I would go to my own bed, and I would not lie awake for hours thinking about how close she was or wondering what she’d brought to sleep in.
When I slid out of the SUV, I had to adjust my pants and coach my body to calm the fuck down before I could face my sister.