Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
“ S hit the condom’s split,” I gasped, cupping my hand underneath. It was only two days after the television interview and Layla’s question about a baby was fresh in my mind.
“Stop. Stop freaking out,” Harper ordered.
“I can’t feel anything. It must have happened after you took it out,” she commented, swiping her hand between her legs.
“You have to go to the pharmacy and get the morning after pill,” I demanded.
“No. Stop panicking about it. I’m not going to some drug store to get a pill. I disagree with abortion, but it won’t come to that. I’m sure I’m not pregnant.” This was the first time we’d had any real disagreement since we had been together.
For almost two weeks after this I counted down the days until Harper’s period came, worried she was pregnant. Relief washed through me when she wasn’t and I felt as if I could breathe deeply for the first time in weeks, but I didn’t miss the glimmer of disappointment in Harper’s eyes. It crushed my heart because I knew I was being selfish, I had a child already.
Layla was already as much Harper’s child as she was mine. I may have fathered Layla, but Harper was most definitely the mother figure to her. I even thought of suggesting adopting because Harper was such a natural mom, but I couldn’t bear the thought of her being pregnant, because the risk of losing her felt too great.
Gradually, we moved on from the scare and our relationship grew stronger than ever, but with Christmas coming, we faced the new challenge of Grace’s parents coming over. It was Matty’s question about who to expect for Christmas when I broached the subject of Harper not being particularly close to her own family.
From the conversations we’d had, I knew she was the middle child, and as such, didn’t feel she had much individual attention from her parents. She excused this as being circumstantial as her mom and dad had three children in quick succession, and then her mom went back to work.
Part of me wondered if Harper living with us, and the time demands of caring for Layla, had actually stilted her from developing her relationship with them, but she disagreed, stating when she was at college she had only seen them twice a year.
When I suggested Harper invite them for Christmas, she told me they already had arrangements with her younger sister to spend Christmas with her brother’s wife’s parents. She told me she had been invited to this as well, but she had declined.
“Will you take me to meet your parents?” Harper had never suggested we go. We had been collecting a gift for Layla’s pony for Christmas and I’d noticed it was only a couple of miles from her home address. I sensed reluctance to take me there, but I’d already decided this was as good a time as any.
“Not sure they’ll be home from work yet,” she replied, frowned and glanced at her wristwatch.
“Do you mind?” I asked, checking for an honest answer.
“Yeah, my mom will flip, she’s a bit of a fan,” she smirked, and I realized this was the issue.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-Hm,” she nodded .
“Dad, not so much. He thinks you must be wild as you’re a rock star, and he hates our living arrangements, because he thinks you’re using me.”
“Is this why you haven’t taken me to meet them before?” I sounded concerned, she’d kept this to herself.
“Perhaps.”
“All right then, let’s do it. If your dad’s got issues, let’s air them and put them the fuck to bed, because you and I know what’s going on is real. Next time we’ll bring Layla with us. I don’t know if you want to text or call them to warn that we’re swinging by.”
Harper dug out her phone and fired off some texts, one to each parent, I presumed, and we drove the ten-minute car journey from where we were at, to their place. We pulled into a single driveway off the main road that forked, with a couple of houses on separate parcels of land.
Pulling up in front of the garage, I slid out my side of the car and wandered around the hood to help her out. As I held the door open for her, I saw a tall balding guy come out from the house next door. I didn’t need Harper to tell me who it was; she’d described him to a tee.
Closing the door, I grabbed Harper by the wrist as she was about to walk past me and leaned her seductively against the car door.
Reducing the distance between us, I flattened her chest with mine. Sliding my hands into her hair at both sides of her head, I whispered, “I love you, Baby,” in a rare public display of affection.
Guiding my nose along her jawline and up her cheek, I playfully brushed our noses together and was rewarded when a gentle smile spread on her lips. Bringing her head closer toward me, I kissed her in my favorite way—at a slow, leisurely pace.
Separating, breathless, Harper’s lust-filled eyes darted to her left and her body steeled when she saw her dickhead ex-boyfriend staring at the scene I’d staged. Slipping my hand into hers, I squeezed it tight in a silent I-got-you gesture, and I whispered in her ear. “Breathe, Baby.” I smiled when I heard her exhale.
“Hey, Harper, looking good, Honey,” he called out, totally unashamed of his previous behavior toward her and smiled at me like we were buddies .
“You need an eye doctor. My girl doesn’t look good; she looks incredible. Who the fuck are you, anyway?” I asked curtly, like I had no idea who he was.
“Oh, Harper and I go way back. Don’t tell me you didn’t tell him about us?” he asked, sounding like he had this big fucking secret and was manipulating the situation.
“Told me?” I asked him in a curious tone. My hand tightened around Harper’s when she tried to pull away from me.
Glancing toward her parents’ place, I ensured there was no one around and they weren’t aware we’d arrived before I replied.
“What exactly was she supposed to tell me?”
“We were an item for almost two years,” he informed me looking proud, even though the fucker hadn’t treated her right. I stared pointedly at him for a few seconds, wondering if he’d forgotten this small detail.
“Is this the guy you refused to have anal play with?” I asked, addressing Harper bluntly with a raised eyebrow.
Harper’s eyes went wide in horror. “ Cole, ” she admonished, mortified I’d blurted out the one thing she felt she’d told me in confidence.
“No, Babe, it’s fine. All I want to do is tell… what’s your name?” I asked, my fingers waving in a hand it over gesture.
“Millar,” he informed me in a far less confident tone already.
“Yeah, Malcolm, Harper did mention you, now that I think about it. You apparently dumped her ass when she wouldn’t let you near it.” I knew I was making Harper feel uncomfortable, but I wanted her to walk away from this with her dignity totally intact.
“What you obviously don’t realize is there are two types of women who have no boundaries with their bodies. There are those who don’t respect themselves and are happy for any guy to stick it to them in any hole they want. Then there are women like Harper. Winning the trust of a woman like my girl takes a real man. A man who takes his time to truly connect with her. Someone she trusts. Believe me, when a woman trusts in the right way, there’s no part of her body that’s out of bounds.”
I could almost hear the cogs whirring inside the asshole’s head as he stared at Harper .
“So, I guess what you got is a keeper like the first type I’ve just described. Good luck with that, by the way, because you obviously don’t have what it takes to keep a girl like Harper, and the first type don’t take much to stray. Hell, I should shake your hand for being such a dumbfuck in choosing the one you’ve got, because I’d never have had such a beautiful second chance.”
Even as I spoke, I watched Millar’s eyes rake over Harper’s body, and where normally I’d have throat punched any guy who eye-fucked my woman, in his case I was thrilled to have him look. My words had hit him where it hurt, and I saw the realization as to what he’d lost because Harper was now a woman far beyond the reach of a stupid guy like him.
“Nice to meet you,” I lied, in a voice laced with a small degree of sarcasm and amusement, as I brought Harper’s hand to my lips. Looking up at him one last time, I flashed him the smuggest smile I could manage and winked. “Trust me… no part of a woman’s body is out of bounds in the hands of the right man.” Placing my hand on her back, I steered her in the direction of her parents’ front door.
Feeling how tense her body language was, from what I had done, she leaned in and groaned. “Thanks, Cole, that didn’t help because now he thinks I do anal sex.”
“Ah, no, did I say anal sex? I don’t believe I used those words, Harper. I’m not a liar… because one day you will, I have no doubt about that, but what I said was anal play .”
Harper’s eyes connected with mine and I saw relief flicker there. “Just don’t try to win my father over with that example you just gave Millar,” she told me, and although her voice sounded stern, I didn’t miss the small smile that curved her lips as she shoved open the door with her shoulder and led me chuckling inside.
Everything Harper had ever told me about her parents, Robin and Tracy, was exactly as she’d said. Her mom was a tall, slim, and warm-natured woman, and I could immediately see where Harper got her gorgeous looks. The genes on her mom’s side were great. My girl also had her mom’s sense of humor and we gelled right off the bat.
Winning her father Robin’s blessing about our living arrangements was a far harder feat. It was clear from the moment he and I shook hands there were bridges to mend. We had barely been introduced when he confronted me by asking if I saw Harper as a new mother for my daughter.
“Actually, I do, Robin,” I replied, honestly, “but not in the way you probably see our family situation. Harper and I were great friends before we got together. She has been part of my daughter’s life and mine since the week my late wife died. It’s been an extremely tough journey back from the sudden and devastating loss my daughter and I suffered, but I’d go as far as to say what I feel for Harper is probably a deeper love than what I felt for Grace.”
Both Harper and her father looked shocked by my statement and Harper’s breath hitched in her throat. It sounded like I was diminishing what I had with Grace, but from my reasoning, this wasn’t the case. I forced myself to go on and voice some of the thoughts I’d had in the previous few weeks.
“What my wife and I had was a very fast, romantic, and passionate relationship, full of impulse, exploration, and making life up as it happened. It was less than three years from the day I met Grace until the terrible day she died. Harper and I have known each other for several years longer than that. More than twice the time I knew Grace, and I’d go as far as to say this beautiful, sweet-natured woman saved my life.”
“Gratitude isn’t the same as love,” Robin ground out, his eyes flicking from me to his daughter.
“And I’d be the last person to disagree with what you say. While it’s true, I will always be eternally grateful to Harper because she was a godsend to me in the beginning, I can guarantee I know the difference between gratitude and love.”
“Is that so? Then you won’t mind explaining that difference to me,” he stated, not convinced and sat back in his armchair with one leg across his knee.
“Sure,” I replied unperturbed by his challenge. “Gratitude is a reaction to an act of kindness. In most cases the person receiving this act is thankful and sometimes may even want to offer something in return for the favor being received. They may even feel warmth, affection, or a loyalty toward the person who performs the kindness. ”
Robin stared me down for a few moments then nodded. “Sounds about right.”
“Love on the other hand is an entirely different feeling, and as we know, the kind of love we feel may differ from person to person. For example, loving someone is different from being in love with someone.”
“How can you be sure that what you have with Harper, and indeed what my daughter feels for you, is real love? Like you said, you’ve lived in close contact for years.”
Taking Harper’s hand in mine, I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles and stared intently into her eyes. “It’s no secret I’ve been in love before. Harper knows this more than anyone else because she saw how losing that love devastated me. Having these feelings again for Harper may even mean my love for her runs deeper than it does for Grace. Otherwise, how could I have survived losing Grace and then have fallen for Harper if this wasn’t the case?”
Looking away from Harper, I questioned Robin with a stare. “Harper makes me forget. When I’m with your daughter it’s her I want to be with. Not my dead wife. When we’re apart, I miss her more than I ever missed Grace, and believe me I missed her too. But I miss Harper more because I know her better than I did Grace. Do you understand?”
“I believe you,” Robin conceded, then he turned to Harper. “I’ll admit I was worried about you, Honey, but no man could explain it in the way Cole has, if he didn’t feel strongly for you. What he’s confessed takes a lot of thought.”
The transformation in Harper’s father’s demeanor following our conversation was nothing less than remarkable. I was glad to see it, because it meant he cared about Harper’s future. I also made a mental note about my future expectations of any man Layla brought home when the time came.