Chapter Fourteen
I lay back, not quite sure what the hell just happened.
My heart was racing and now it’s finding this glorious pulse that almost feels like it’s synching up to his. It’s the closest I’ve ever felt to a man, and he’s pretty much my enemy.
Is he my enemy?
I try to wrap my head around the last half hour. I made love to Reid Dorsey on the kitchen island in a Gilded Age mansion we’re supposed to be restoring. Yep. I did that and now he’s on top of me and it feels weirdly right, and I don’t trust it at all. “Uhm. We should probably get dressed.”
“Give me a minute, Harper.”
He sighs and rubs his cheek against my breast. “This is the calmest I’ve felt in months, and I know the minute our clothes are on we go back to fighting. I don’t want to fight right now. I want to pretend you like me because this is the closest I’ve felt to any woman in my life.”
Damn it. This is not supposed to get emotional. This is supposed to be sex. Nothing more. An itch we scratch and then walk away from and don’t think about again. I’m not supposed to wrap my arms around him and know I feel the same. I want to pretend it’s real, too, and we’re not going to go back to the enemies we are in real life.
“Fine. A cease fire.”
I don’t want to fight. I need to understand why every piece of my soul wants to hold this man and start the process all over again. We can have one glorious night before we face reality. “But this is cold, and I have a perfectly good air mattress in the other room. It’s got blankets and everything. It’s small, though.”
He slides off me and doesn’t even wince when he picks me up. It’s like I don’t weigh anything at all. “Then we’ll have to cuddle.”
He carries me through the kitchen to the massive butler’s pantry where I set up an air mattress a few days ago. I put it in the pantry because we’re not working in here at all, so no one would notice.
“I knew this was you,”
he says as he lays me down and climbs in after me. “I came in here looking for a quiet place to take a phone call two days ago and saw the bed and knew Harper Ross was pulling some overtime.”
Well, almost no one notices. He’s taking up all the space. I’m forced to kind of lay half on top of him, my arm around his chest and leg dragged over his. “I do stay late sometimes.”
He kisses the top of my head, and his hand smooths over my hair. “You are trying to work two full-time jobs, and it’s catching up to you. You need more sleep. Also, I’m glad you’re not walking home or taking the subway in the middle of the night. If you ever find yourself here late and need to go home, call me. I’m a couple of blocks away. I can be here quickly.”
“Why would I do that?”
How is this the way the day is ending? I should be running. We didn’t even pick up our clothes. And yet my head finds his chest and I’m fascinated by the strong beat of his heart.
“So I can make sure you get home okay,”
he replies. “And don’t tell me I’m being sexist. I make my brother call me, too, if he doesn’t have someone with him. Now tell me why you’re having to work two jobs. I thought you took a sabbatical.”
I did, too. “I thought I could leave it in Paul’s hands for a few weeks. I was wrong. We’ve had some major problems on a couple of important jobs. One was an ordering issue. The foreman didn’t order enough concrete mix and it was a specialty order, so it’s putting us back and I had to handle the client. Paul says he forgot to double-check. The other was plumbing placed in the wrong wall. So we get to eat that cost.”
“And you can’t fire him?”
Reid asks.
“I would love to but he’s on the board. Firing me or Paul requires board approval the way hiring us did. I assure you my mother would be haranguing me about taking food from his poor babies’ mouths,”
I reply. “She’s worried about everyone eating. I tried to explain to her that he won’t be able to feed them if he takes over and runs the place into the ground. Sometimes I think she would rather let Paul have the position so a man is in charge.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “You know you could get a job anywhere, right? You’re not tied to one company. You’re skilled, and you’re about to be something of a celebrity. You have literal connections to royalty. You’re not stuck. You are in a unique position to follow whatever dream you like.”
Dreams. I have a weird connection to that word. “I don’t know that I ever had one. I knew what I was supposed to do from the time I was a kid. Like as soon as I was capable of holding a hammer, my dad had one in my hand. I guess that’s why it hurt so much to find out he actually intended to give the company to my husband.”
“He what?”
Reid asks, obviously in disbelief.
I haven’t even shared this with my friends. “It’s something my mom told me. Dad never really thought I would run the company. He thought I would get married and my husband would manage the company. I’m not sure how he intended to find a man who could magically walk into the job. Mom assures me he had a few candidates lined up.”
Reid huffs. “I can tell you how he expected it would work. He expected you to teach him. My father…well, I saw it a lot. He was propped up by the incredibly intelligent women he hired. Assistants. They did most of the work for him, and he took all the credit. He would promise them the world and never deliver. There was this woman who came up with an idea that brought company expenses down by ten percent. Would you like to know what he did to her?”
“Probably not. Your dad seems like an asshole.”
The more I hear about the Dorsey patriarch the more sympathy I have for Reid. Who does actually work well with others. All the people on my crew adore him and think he and Jeremiah are the best. Probably because they often come to set with cronuts.
“He was an asshole of the highest order. He laid her off and announced he’d saved another half a percent and told the shareholders it had all been his idea.”
He sighs and his arms clutch me closer. “I’m glad he never wanted either of us to take over the company.”
Yes, but he still reaps the rewards of owning all that stock. He doesn’t depend on working to live the way I do. We are from two different worlds. “Did you ever think about it?”
“Think about sitting in some office plotting how to get more cash out of people who can’t afford it?”
he muses. “No. I knew I wasn’t going to follow in dear old dad’s footsteps. The truth of the matter is he was done with us when we turned eighteen. He blew through as much money as he could. I think he somehow knew he wasn’t going to make it to eighty and wanted to spend it all if he could. So he left us with the penthouse and the stock, and we had to figure things out from there. The first time I walked into a board meeting they laughed at me.”
I cuddle closer, the warmth of our bodies lulling me. If there is one thing I can empathize with, it’s feeling shitty at a board meeting. I had to start going to them way too young. “That wasn’t fair of them. Did you vote the CEO out? I’ve been told it’s an easy thing to do.”
He chuckles, and I’m so close I feel it on my skin. “Not in my case. My father’s will was interesting. But I do not want to think about my dad right now. We need to talk about something.”
And all that lovely intimacy is gone. I know exactly what he’s going to say, and at least one of us is being an adult about this. I should thank him. “This is a one-time thing. I get it.”
He turns slightly so I can see his quizzical expression. “Why? I mean, that’s not what I was going to say, but maybe we should talk about it. Why would you think this has to be a one and done thing? Harper, that was incredible. Do you really think you never want to experience that again? You must have way better sex than I’ve had because the idea of never being with you again is not something I want to contemplate.”
His words kind of shake me. I sit up. There’s some illumination from the window high above us. This level of Banover Place is mostly below the street line, but there are two windows right below the ceiling that let in natural light. Or natural NYC light, which at night is from the streetlights above. It sends a slash of illumination across the room, putting Reid in shadows. “You don’t even like me.”
He shifts so he’s on his side, head propped up with one hand. “I argue with you. That doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I think I was open and honest about liking you from the beginning. We disagree on things, and we haven’t learned each other’s languages yet. You, on the other hand, do not like me. I think I can work with it. Honestly, I’ve had worse relationships.”
We’re in a relationship? Also, that’s super sad. “Reid, we just had hate sex.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. We had inevitable, let the steam out because we’ve been stubborn sex. Hate sex does not end up with the participants cuddling on… Is this an air mattress? We need to get something better if we’re going to do this very often because my legs are hanging off. Hey, I’ve heard there are some tunnels that lead to the hotel across the street. We could get a room and sneak over there when we need to. Think about how much nicer this would be if we could also order room service.”
The truth is I am hungry. A charcuterie board after athletic sex might be amazing. My last boyfriend wouldn’t even spring for Taco Bell because he was worried about his abs.
Reid might be right about the hate sex. I don’t exactly hate him right now. He’s completely adorable lying there. But how can I trust him? Do I need to trust him in order to enjoy being with him for a brief period of time? It’s not like I’m looking for marriage here. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
Reid sits up, leaning his back against the wall. This puts his gorgeous chest on display and the sheet is hovering around his hips, dangerously close to showing off that part of him that entirely pleased me not ten minutes before. “I think it’s a great idea. I have zero desire to yell at you right now. I’m relaxed and calm in a way I haven’t been in forever.”
“It’ll pass.”
I take the top blanket with me when I stand. I’m getting antsy again and it’s all about the fact that I don’t want to get up at all. I want to stay in that too-small bed with him. “I understand what happened was exciting and spectacular, but you have to know it’s not the kind of thing that can last. We’re a flash fire. It might be hot in the beginning, but it’s going to burn us both in the end.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
His tone has gone soft.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean a flash fire can be contained,”
he replies.
At least he’s getting my metaphor. “Yes, by dosing it with a ton of cold water—which in this case is reality—and being put out entirely. Which we did. We gave into the temptation, and we don’t have to do it anymore.”
A brow rises. “Really? I don’t think so. I think you’re going to wake up tomorrow and want me every bit as much as I want you right now. As I’ve wanted you every minute of every day since I met you. I didn’t say you put out the fire. I said if the fire is dangerous, you tame it. No one wants to live without warmth in their lives. I know I don’t, but the truth of the matter is I’ve been afraid of it. I think that’s why I end up with the women I date. I watched my father go through woman after woman, and every time he was excited and passionate about the new lady. Obviously, since he often forgot he had children. It always died out, and he cheated on the woman he was so passionate about with a new woman. So the flash fire scares me because I know where it leads. But what if it doesn’t have to?”
I can understand where he’s coming from. My dad cheated, though he never left my mom and she never made what she would call “a fuss.”
Sometimes I wish she had. “Where would it lead? Passion like this is amazing, but it’s also brittle. It breaks easily. It’s a storm that passes and ravages everything.”
“Or we could find a way to make it softer. Make it stronger,”
he says, his words filled with warmth. “I think that’s what I’m figuring out. My ideas about love and sex are wrapped up in my childhood, and the truth of the matter is I wasn’t surrounded by good examples of love and friendship. I saw my father’s world, which was warped by his selfishness. I saw my mother leaving Jeremiah and I behind to find herself. So when I chose a woman as a companion I wanted one I didn’t feel too much for because I knew it wouldn’t last. My therapist told me if I’m open to it, one day I might find a woman I’m willing to risk heartache over. What if it’s you?”
The words…those words. I can’t handle them. My brain goes to all the worst places. He’s trying to control me. He’s using me. We’re not alike. I hold on to that one. I shake my head. “We’re too far apart.”
“How?”
How long do we have? “In every way. You’ve never had to worry about money.”
Even in the dim light I can see his eyes roll. “Of course I have. I assure you, you don’t know my whole story. But let’s address this part. I was a snob when I met you.”
This I can handle. “Yes, you couldn’t stand the thought of working with some blue-collar stiff.”
“No, I worried Anika was bringing in a friend who didn’t have a lot of experience in high-end renovations,”
he corrects, and he’s so calm I can barely stand it because I’m not. “I certainly have zero issues working with blue-collar people. I work with construction crews and contractors all the time, and this will shock you, but they tend to like me. I did a whole series about helping people figure out how to renovate their homes on a budget. I don’t have a problem with the circumstances of your birth, but you have a real problem with mine. I can’t help I was born into a wealthy family, and honestly, while we’re at it, let’s talk about how many women your age own their own apartment and are the CEO of a family firm.”
He is deliberately misunderstanding me. “My apartment is eight hundred square feet, and I have to fight with the building constantly. You have an AI elevator and a view of Central Park. I have a view of the bodega across the street and regularly watch drug deals go down. We are not the same.”
He slides off the cot and does not seem to mind that he’s naked. “You have no idea how the same we are, but you don’t want to see it.”
I try not to look at how gorgeous this man is. “I am nothing like you.”
And that’s part of the problem. I’m not sure why he’s here unless it’s to use his gorgeousness and charm to get me to do what he wants. I’ve seen myself in the mirror.
You should find a man now, Harper. You’re not getting any younger. No man wants you for your wisdom, honey.
I don’t need to hear my mother in my head right now.
“You are everything like me.”
He’s got a slight smile on his face as he moves into my space. “You are practically the female version of me except without my refined tastes. You are stubborn as hell. You tend to center things around your personal feelings but you tell yourself you’re thinking of others. You equate sacrifice with love instead of the martyrdom it actually is. Trust me. I know how that feels.”
I take a step back, not liking how he seems to see me. Or maybe it’s that he sees through me. “You’re a psychologist now?”
“No, I’ve just had an enormous amount of therapy. We can all use some, but especially when you come from highly toxic family situations,”
he says quietly as though trying to handle me with care.
There he is. There’s the arrogant man who thinks he knows everything.
“I’m insane now. Are you seriously going there? I need therapy?”
I don’t address the other thing. Because I’m nauseatingly certain he’s right. I’ve never thought of it that way before. Or he’s wrong and this is just how my mom is. She doesn’t mean anything by it. My dad cheating on her didn’t make her leave him, so I can’t accept that I won’t live that life.
He puts a hand to his head as though the whole conversation is giving him a headache. “I didn’t say that, and you know therapy isn’t about insanity most of the time. Stop making people feel bad for needing help sorting themselves out.”
I take a deep breath. The flash fire is here again, and I have a choice. “That is not what I’m trying to do.”
I can push him away. It would be the safest course of action. He’s getting way too in my business, and all this crap about turning the dangerous fire into something that might keep us warm is bullshit. I can do what I’ve been doing and shove this man away as fast as I can. The sex means nothing. The sex is something I can get anywhere.
But the way he held me. Like I’m something precious. Something he truly doesn’t want to let go. The way he smiled after. A pure, joyous smile, like he did something amazing and the amazing thing is me.
I don’t know if I’ll ever have that again. Do I want to throw it away without examining it at all? What if he’s right and there are people who are worth the heartache that inevitably comes?
I know one thing. I want to stop hurting this man. I want to stop reacting to every perceived insult and act like the Harper Ross I want to be, and that is not the woman I’ve been around him to this point. He’s been a place where I could put all my anger, and that stops now.
“I’m sorry.”
I take a deep breath and touch him, wanting him to know I mean it. “I’m glad you went to therapy. You might be right about the toxic family bit, but it hurts to hear it.”
His expression softens, and he pulls me into his arms. “I am, too, but I think I need more. So much more because I’m at a loss for what to do with you. I don’t want to hurt you. But I also don’t want to let you go. There’s a lot about my life right now that isn’t settled.”
“Yeah. You either have a fiancée or a stalker.”
I turn my chin up with a wince. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that in a rude way. I don’t know what to call that whole situation.”
His hands smooth back my hair, and he presses a kiss on my forehead, a tender gesture that gets to me in a way all that passion can’t. “I do not have a fiancée, and Britta only stalks me when she needs something. I promise it won’t affect you in any way. She’s back in Europe, and I’m sure she used those pictures she got out of me to prompt whatever wealthy boyfriend she’s after to capitulate to her demands. That’s the only relationship I have with her now. She uses me as a blunt instrument. Nothing else. I haven’t had sex in over eighteen months.”
That surprises me. “Really?”
He nods solemnly. “I kind of swore it off, and not because I was pining for her. Pretty much the opposite. I realized I managed to get myself involved in the same kind of toxicity my father indulged in and decided to take a break. Everything fell apart around the same time, and I kind of pulled into myself. That was when a friend of mine suggested I go to Dr. Warner. He’s helped me see I often take on too much responsibility because I’m still playing out my childhood fears that if I’m not on top of everything, in control of everything, the world will fall apart. That’s what I meant about the martyrdom thing. I should have put it better. He would tell me language is important, and I need to speak one you understand. So let me put it better than I did. You have the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it feels like you have to keep it there. But it’s not your responsibility, so what if you just…didn’t.”
He kisses me again. “And that’s all I’m going to say because I just figured out how to keep you.”
“What does that mean?”
When he kisses me, I can’t think straight.
“It means I’m a ruthless bastard, and I don’t care what my brother says. Grumpy and grumpier can find a way.”
He sounds entirely sure of himself. “And that way is a common enemy. Baby, you think I’m bad. I can give you someone worse. You don’t like those floating shelves.”
“They’re fine for living spaces, but as the primary place to store dishes, they suck,”
I admit. “And you have them in three different materials. What are you thinking?”
“I’m not. The owner is. And they’re for three different kitchens. Apparently she has two daughters and she’s decided to…”
I shake my head. “No. No, she did not.”
He is not about to say… He can’t.
“She’s splitting the whole place into three separate residences.”
My knees get weak, and not for the right reasons this time.
Reid simply leans over and picks me up, hauling me against his chest. “I think we should get back in that ridiculous bed, I’ll blow your mind again, and then we can talk about how we’re going to take down the new owner.”
That is a plan I can say yes to.