Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
W hen Harper mentioned the cookout to Layla, my daughter quickly used this to her advantage and invited two more girls and their families before Harper drew a line. By Saturday, Matty was almost as excited as my daughter because we hadn’t entertained at the house since before Grace had passed.
Thinking I’d need a little moral support from a few friendly faces, I invited my nearest neighbor and fellow musician, Max Ingle, and his wife, Sarah-Jayne, along with their daughter, Lucinda, to keep me company.
When Grace was alive, Max’s place had been a regular haunt for my girl, who was close to Sarah-Jayne, and Max was the only guy outside of the house and the band I’d conversed with about Grace since she’d died. I could be myself with him.
Come Sunday morning, everything was in place and I felt a little more relaxed for having taken Harper’s advice and had caught up on a few good nights’ sleep. Layla was beside herself with excitement and had been wandering around the house in her bright pink princess bathing suit, since a little after 5:00 a.m.
Waking me up had become a habit of Layla’s since I’d been home, but seeing her excited, smiling face lifted my heart. If I’m honest, although her resemblance to her mom was uncanny, she made me forget the bad times and kept me firmly in the present.
It was little after 1:00 p.m. when Layla came bursting excitedly into my office to tell me the guests had arrived. Grabbing me by my hand in her now familiar eager way to place me where she wanted, she dragged me along behind her until we reached the kitchen door.
“Now, Daddy, I’ve warned Jaden not to pee anywhere ,” she told me, crossing her arms in front of her then swiping them wide with her palms faced down to emphasize how serious she was. “And I’ll be watching him so you don’t need to worry,” she added, nodding in her organized tone.
For a second, I wondered whether I wanted to know my innocent little daughter was waiting for the moment when her little friend got his wiener out and whether this really was Jaden’s party piece.
I hadn’t entertained anyone at the house since Grace had died, and facing a few people in my own backyard suddenly felt more daunting than stepping out on stage in front of thousands of people.
Performing was what I did for a living, and even in the darkest of times, I could still be relied on to put on a show, but the people I was meeting knew my daughter almost as well as I did.
Stepping out through the open patio doors, I stared down at the strangers milling around by the pool, and as if Harper had a sixth sense about my feelings, she turned to look at us. Smiling, her bright blue eyes met mine, and even from this distance I felt more reassured.
Excusing herself, she wandered down the side of the pool to meet me. Layla broke away from me and ran to talk to her friends.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Harper asked, her tone soft and her eyes searching my face. Realizing it was the first time we’d really spoken since my breakdown a few days before, I felt a little embarrassed about displaying my vulnerabilities in front of her.
“Good… better. Thanks for—”
“Don’t mention it. I’m glad I was there,” she offered, knowing exactly what I had been about to say and not letting me finish .
“Take a deep breath because they are all, with the exception of Sarah-Jayne, fangirling,” she told me, and I gave her a pissed-off look and a wry smirk.
“Cole, let me introduce you to Cressida, she’s—”
About to pop , I thought staring down at her huge pregnant belly and an instant pang of hurt shot through me.
“Jaden and Tom’s mom,” I interjected. I rubbed my sternum and tried to ease the ache in my chest. I also needed everyone to know I knew something of my child’s life.
“Yes! Oh. My. God. Cole Harkin knows who I am,” she gushed, turning to look at the two other women who stood gawking at me. I wished I had a buck for every time someone bragged about this.
“How could I not when there are threats to cut off your son’s wiener?” I replied with a flirty wink.
Cressida crumpled her body with laughter, her bones looking like they’d instantly melted during our little conversation. “Jesus, Layla told you that? I guess my husband and I had better think before we express any more thoughts in future.”
“Cole,” Sarah-Jayne’s soft feminine tone smoothly interrupted, rescuing me from the awkwardness of the moment, as she stepped forward and hugged me tight. “You look like you needed some help,” she whispered, and I squeezed the hand she had slipped into mine.
Pulling back to look at her I flashed her a genuine grin. “Sarah-Jayne,” I mused, holding her away from me. My eyes raked down her outfit and I noted how lovely she was. “Glad you guys could make it on short notice. You look beautiful as always. Is Max in the pool house?” I asked, knowing full well he’d be propping up the bar away from the other women present.
“Where else would you find him on a Sunday afternoon?” she joked.
Sliding an arm over her shoulder, I began to lead us toward the pool house door when Harper stepped forward, blocking my way. She shrugged her shoulders and glanced at the other two women who had been watching my interaction with Cressida.
“Tammy and Francessca this is—”
“Oh. My. God. Cole Harkin. As if we didn’t know. I have every one of your albums,” the taller of the two brunettes told me, following with a wide grin as she batted a ridiculous pair of eyelash extensions over her fangirl eyes. The shorter woman with her was prettier—striking actually—but she didn’t speak until nudged by the one who’d just spoken.
“Sorry,” she pleaded, shaking her head. “Excuse me, but this feels… weird, being here in your home when I’ve seen you in concert so many times.” She shrugged her shoulders. I immediately decided I liked her honesty far better than the over-exuberance of her friend’s greeting.
“Ah, well, here,” I gestured at my property. “I’m an ordinary Joe. The real me,” I offered, placing my hand over my heart and giving her a genuine smile. “Please enjoy the food and relax. My daughter is so excited to have your kids over to play. Hopefully as we get to know each other, you’ll find there isn’t much of a mystery to me, and I’m a dad like any of the others here.”
“Kinda hard to imagine that if he was slipping into my bed every night,” Cressida mumbled to Harper who shot me a wide-eyed look because it was obviously far louder than Cressida had intended. Harper’s cheeks blushed, clearly embarrassed I’d heard, and I bit back a grin at her innocent reaction.
Making my apologies to the ladies, I made my way over to their husbands and found them a far more comfortable proposition than hanging out with their partners, who I gauged—like Matty had already surmised—would have been delighted to get in my pants.
Once the ice was broken and everyone relaxed, the day turned out to be one of the best I’d had in years. I was myself, not Cole the rock star, and the entertainment revolved around playing baseball and water polo with the kids. Later in the day we watched them as they put on a show led by Lucinda.
When the last of the children’s energy was spent, a more sedate mood settled on the evening, where the kids sat on the lawn chatting and us adults shared some stories from our pasts.
Night had fallen by the time everyone left, and I heard Cressida praise Jaden for keeping his wiener in his pants. It made me chuckle. Jaden grinned big in return and promptly informed her he’d peed in our pool. Luckily, Paul was dedicated to his chlorine routines, so I figured we were all safe .
Harper came into the kitchen as I stored some food in the fridge. “How are you feeling?” she asked, after everyone had gone. “Layla had a ball today,” she added.
“Good. At first, I missed Grace like hell. She was always the more sociable of the two of us. She had this… great ability to make everyone feel at ease. Whereas, I’ve always been moody, broody… reserved. It wasn’t as bad as I thought… mainly because you were there,” I added after a hesitation. Credit where it was due. “It was as if you just knew when I needed that extra bit of support.”
Harper’s lips curved up in a smile as she tore off a large strip of plastic wrap. Placing it over a tray of pastries, she shrugged. “Isn’t that why I’m here? To support you as a family?”
I was about to put a lid on a salad bowl when I stopped and gave her my full attention. For a second her comment took my breath away, and I felt a little disappointed. It wasn’t until she mentioned this that I reflected on how I’d sought her out at various points in the day when I felt a conversation drying up.
With each situation she was right there alongside me, making my job as their host easy. I was a little shocked to realize it had felt completely natural for me to rely on her. But it never occurred to me once she was only doing her job.
“What?” she asked, staring inquisitively like she’d said something wrong.
I sighed, “Nothing. I mean… thanks. You did support me, and you managed to make it look effortless.” It felt strange that I was upset her vigilance was premeditated.
Shrugging her shoulders, Harper gave me a sideward glanced. Smiling slowly, she rolled her eyes a little. “Someone had to protect you from Cressida and Francesca,” she replied, winked, and stopped tidying for a second.
“God, this heat,” she complained, groaning at the back of her throat. My dick twitched unexpectedly at the sound. “Sometimes I wish it were fashionable to wax this off like I do everything else. This humidity makes my hair go wild.”
As soon as her words were out, she looked horrified at her reference to waxing and she stared bashfully at me with her huge blue eyes, like she was trying to decide if she could cover up what she’d implied. Her referencing to waxing everywhere, along with her reaction to her own mistake, made my dick harder.
“I think I know what you meant,” I interjected, chuckling.
Our eyes locked in a stare neither of us had seen coming. Her blush grew darker then she averted her eyes and quickly turned away, as she tried to recover.
Setting the bowl in my hand on the counter, I stepped closer and placed my hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, it’s okay. You think I’ve never heard a comment like that before or the double implication? Don’t be embarrassed. I know you never meant anything by it. You’re a beautiful young woman who takes care of herself.” Although I tried to appease my mind, it went to the gutter as I wondered exactly how often she waxed and where.
Harper was a very attractive woman and I considered for the first time why she didn’t have a boyfriend already. “You should be out having fun, not cooped up in this ivory tower taking care of someone else’s kid.” As much as I never wanted Layla to lose her, the words I spoke were the truth.
As I let my hand drop, Harper shook her head, clearly embarrassed by our conversation and began scooping her waist-length dark hair back until she held it in one of her fists. The way she drew it tight behind her head triggered an erotic image of me wrapping it around my hand and tugging it. I shook my head in disbelief at the thought.
Next, she began threading her slender fingers through her long dark brown tresses—another sensual move—and worked it into a high ponytail before she expertly slid a pony holder from around her wrist and pulled it up into place. None of what she did was for my benefit, only her comfort, but when my eyes fell to her slender neck and stayed there, I became captivated by the slender curve from her ear to her collarbone. Fuck.
Furthermore, eyeing her delicate golden skin triggered memories of how Grace moaned when my mouth hit a sweet spot she had there. I swallowed roughly as my dick strained tighter in my pants. How Harper affected me was an unexpected response to a perfectly innocent situation, a raw physical reaction I’d rarely experienced from the mere sight of a woman since Grace.
“It is effortless,” Harper admitted, skipping seamlessly over my previous comment and choosing not to answer. She was oblivious to my enthralled distracted state as she picked up on the comment I’d made before the awkward moment about her shaving her hair. Was she bare everywhere else? “I love being around you guys. Nothing feels forced.”
That’s where she was dead wrong, because the lecherous thoughts in my head and the solid bulge forced painfully against my fly told another sordid story. Her reply barely registered for a moment as I stood a fraction too close to her, still in shock that I’d found Harper’s innocent move so alluringly sexy.
Normally, a situation like this could have been excused by an inappropriate response to a large amount of alcohol. Before Grace died, alcohol had usually made me feel super horny, but since I’d been home I had stayed true to my vow to live healthier, and I’d steered clear of the hard stuff.
I could hardly blame my dick’s interest on four stubby bottles of beer in a whole day. Forcing a small smile, I lowered my head and turned away, feeling perturbed at the effect she was having on me.
“All right, let’s leave the rest and get to bed. The little whirlwind upstairs will be full of beans again in a few hours. Grab some sleep. Matty will sort the rest of this out in the morning.”
Without looking at Harper again, I hastily made my way up to my room, cussing myself under my breath. The last thing I needed was to project my fucked-up feelings elsewhere, and add further complications to my life, especially with someone as important as my little girl’s nanny.
Rage threatened to roar from my belly as I almost ripped myself out of my clothing, “What the fuck is wrong with me?” I ground out angrily as I climbed into my comfortable bed. It was the only comfortable thing in the room, because I certainly wasn’t.
Tossing and turning, I lay riddled with guilt. Am I overfamiliar toward Harper? I wondered if I had reacted the way I had because I lacked meaningful female company? This wasn’t to say I was a monk on the road. My physical sexual needs had been met by a long series of ‘one and done’ hook ups during the previous couple of years. My wife may have died, but I had no urge to replace her.
A sudden new wave of grief washed over me, and I needed to see her face. Reaching into my nightstand drawer, I lifted out my favorite picture of her. The small gilt-edged frame had been a gift from Grace to me because I had been carrying the picture of her everywhere in a small padded envelope.
Stroking my fingers down the smooth cold glass, my fractured heart ached as I stared sadly at the beautiful happy face of the woman I still loved with all of my heart. Then I remembered how bright vibrant eyes had dulled with pain until they had looked haunted and sunken, until finally they bulged in her head on that final day.
Sometimes I found it hard to cry—inappropriate to cry—when my anger and frustration wouldn’t allow it. But as I lay clutching her picture, the overwhelming sadness, the nondescript feeling of despair beyond words that flooded my mind and steeled my body, brought on tears that were the hardest I’d ever shed.
A sharp pain in my chest stabbed sorely at my heart, squeezing every last flicker of movement within it until it appeared to temporarily stop. Gasping sharply, I realized I’d held my breath for too long. Not deliberately, but like the earth had stopped revolving for a moment and I was suspended in time, absorbing my hurt. Then as soon as I remembered to draw breath everything began to move again.
During the day I’d watched Layla laughing aloud, and I’d found myself swallowing back the simmering swell of grief. The most natural thing to do in that situation would have been to turn to Grace and share the same pride in Layla during those glorious moments. Instead I’d looked to Harper, and she’d taken Grace’s place… filled in the gaps in my suffering.
My thoughts turned back to Harper and how I’d felt as I tried to find a reason why I’d reacted to her in the way that I had. Why I’d made stupid comments to her as well. I had no answers.
If we’d known at the beginning the tragic journey Grace would face—that we all would face—maybe I could have done something.
Suddenly the vivid memory of the last time I’d made love to Grace came to mind. The all-consuming, intimately addictive way she’d caught my eyes and held them with hers, the way my hands travelled sensually across her taut warm body, the way her fingers had explored mine. Sliding into her body, her warm tight heat enclosed my cock until there wasn’t even a hair’s breadth between her skin and mine.
Standing abruptly from the bed, I strode into my bathroom, disrupting the sacred visual and wrapped my fist around my cock. Slapping my hand around the cool tiled wall I tugged slowly at first, my mind trying to focus on something… anything to help me chase a fast release, but the only images my mind would let me choose were all and any that included Harper.
Strands of cum spurted from my cock as my body released the pent-up feelings of want I’d fought so gallantly downstairs. My twisted mind held a mixture of pleasure at the fantasy, and guilt for even having degrading sinful thoughts about how hard I’d fuck Harper, and all the dirty ways I would have had her, had our circumstances been different.
Anger and frustration squeezed tightly at my throat because Harper was the last person in the world I’d choose to fuck with… in any sense of the word. Yet as hard as I thought this, there was no shame in yanking off to the fantasy of a beautiful woman.
There had been many a time where my band members and I had joked about forbidden fruit in one way or another. Truth was, when faced with it under my own roof, it was no laughing matter.
With a pounding in my head, I fished in my bathroom cabinet and took out the sleeping pills William had previously prescribed, and I’d largely ignored. Taking one, I made my way back to bed and stared blankly at the ceiling until I eventually fell asleep.