CHAPTER 32
Aiden
“She is tormented. Tormented, I tell you,” I say as I work on my bow tie.
I go on, “Let’s assess the facts, shall we?
She lights up when I come into her store.
She was adorably jealous about Eleanor the realtor.
She knows me, really knows me, and wants to kiss me anyway.
Talking together comes naturally and the not talking… bloody hell.”
I pause, remembering.
“I mean I have been wrong a few times here or there but I have never been more wrong in my expectations than how I thought that woman would kiss. It’s like every quiet, shy bone left her body and was replaced with…
fire. I was exactly right in my estimation of those curves hiding under her aprons though. Exquisite. Unreal. Absolutely…”
I stop myself.
I look down, “I suppose I shouldn’t talk about your mum this way in front of you.” I scoff, “Shouldn’t be waxing poetic to a damn dog.”
He harrumphs as if he disagrees. I can only see his giant head in my bathroom doorway where he’s panting. The rest of his massive body is sprawled across the hardwood of my bedroom. Or rather, the rental’s primary bedroom.
A board member emailed me this week asking what the hell I was still doing here. The project is well underway and I’ve multiple projects I should be checking in on all over the world, let alone the U.S.
Yet, here I am.
“With you,” I tell the dog.
With her.
When I want to leave, I’ll leave. The moment hasn’t arisen yet. There will come a time, I’m sure, when pressing matters and interesting opportunities appeal to me more than staying here to help Harper make a few more dollars before she closes her shop.
And help get my other idea up and running. If I can convince that old miser, Newman, to work with me on it. Smart, secretly-wealthy bastard.
Maybe I’ll be able to bother him about it again tonight.
If I can even focus on something other than finding Harper, hopefully in some sinfully tight green ballgown, staring at her, stealing a dance…basically following her around like a little pup.
Honestly, what’s happening to me?
I sigh.
Stuart sighs.
I look down at him, “Yes, I agree. I’m properly screwed.”
_____
I am not easily impressed but right now I would say I am pleasantly surprised. When Harper announced a multi-town charity ball, which I suspect was actually Steven’s idea, I balked. This tiny town throwing a gala? In what ballroom? With what donors?
I did help on that bit. Apparently there are a few remotely rich and famous people from this tiny town—beyond Benedict, now, I suppose—and I had Mildred pull the strings available to me to either get them here or have them purchase a table.
Compared to our usual to-dos, a table tonight costs them pennies.
Even after the price increase I insisted on.
They’ve done up the high school gym rather well, I must say. Steven told the morning crowd at the shop that he and Miles could work magic with the existing prom decor from all of the nearby high schools.
He delivered. Curtains, little string lights, drapery…plants? I don’t know, I’m just glad it’s nice for them. For her.
My eyes scan quickly for a shock of bright red hair among the blur of tuxedos and ball gowns. But Harper is short. So I scan for Benedict instead. There! And next to him is his lovely, prickly (to me) wife and next to her…yes!
Wow.
My legs start moving while my eyes stay pinned on the spot. I run into a table and bump shoulders with a staffer. I think I murmur a sorry. Can’t be sure. Can’t think of anything other than getting to her.
She’s in a soft floral gown which is just so totally her, and the pinks and reds are making her hair, down in waves, even more striking than usual. She’s got…sparkles? Along her freckles and near her eyes? She’s twinkling like a damn angel, eyes wide and lips smirking as she sees me approaching.
Approaching might be an understatement. I just sprinted across the room. Can’t be helped. I loitered in the shop this week, kidnapped her dog again, texted her like a needy tween and still she wouldn’t let me pick her up for this evening.
God help me if she doesn’t let me take her home tonight.
I step directly into her space and reach out to hold her precious face. But her eyes go wide.
I stammer, “Oh, can, can I not kiss you hello?”
“What? No!” she whispers.
Janie makes a snort-squeak sound next to me and I’m pretty sure Benedict is laughing. I’ll punch him later.
“Right, friends. Sorry. A hug then?”
She chuckles a, “Sure,” at me but I’m already hugging her. Holding her head to my chest, I breathe her in. She smells like sugar, of course, and some fruity perfume or hair product. Heaven. She smells like heaven.
She pulls away while I’m filled with…longing? I want to kiss her, here and now, hold her hand, lead her around with a hand on her lower back, maybe her neck too. Basically I want to stake a claim on her like a right caveman twat.
“We need a drink!” Janie exclaims, pulling Harper with her to the bar.
I watch her go like my heart is out of my body and floating away in a cloud of flowers and sugar and those damn sparkles.
Bloody weird, all of it.
“Uh, hello,” Ben says, smirking.
“Piss off, Ben,” I grouse.
“Wow, right, yeah, it’s definitely me you’re mad at, mate. Definitely me you should take out all your frustration on. Frustration and what is this…desperation?” I try to ignore him but he piles on, “Never thought I’d see the day. Aiden Vanderwell desperate for something he can’t have.”
“I can have,” I say.
“Oh?”
“She wants this she’s just…being difficult.”
Ben hands me a scotch out of nowhere, “Uh huh, and this is what, exactly?”
I turn to fully face him, “The hell is it with you and labels all of a sudden? I want her, she wants me, do the math.”
“I did, I figured you have twenty-four hours left before everything goes up in fireworks, literally.”
“I’m not contractually obligated to leave on July 5th,” I say.
He laughs, “How bloody romantic! Is that what you did to get her to kiss you in the field, then? Talk about contracts?”
I frown, “You know about that?”
He frowns right back, “Brother, Janie is one of Harper’s best friends, I’m getting a damn play by play unfortunately. Makes Janie very cross with you and thus cross with me!”
“What’d you mean play by play? What did Harper say? Did she explain why she won’t give us a try?” Ben’s face goes slack like a ghost just walked by. “What? What did she say?”
“You’re in love with her,” he says, running a hand down his face.
“I’m what? I, no,” I stutter.
He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes, “I’m happy for you, Aid, truly. I thought this was just a conquest, you know? But you really—”
I shift out of his hold, “I don’t really anything. I’m not, I don’t…”
“Alright, you don’t,” he lifts his hands in surrender.
He looks away, trying to be casual as he says, “It’s just a good shag, then.
Better that way, yeah? Not like you’ll stay in this town and run the world on bloody zoom calls from the bakery.
And marry her and have a gaggle of Juniper Falls babies. A Vanderwell would never.”
“Right,” I say softly, absently. I know he’s trying to rile me up but hell if it’s not working. My hand is shaking and my mind is reeling. Ben just said way too many things.
Am I…do I?
Damn it!
I rub at my chest, which is suddenly tight.
“Excuse me,” I mutter as I walk away from Ben and the weird way he’s studying my face. He’s the one that has occasional panic attacks, not me. I never get emotional.
I decide to make for an exit so I can breathe some fresh air but Harper comes back into view. She’s laughing with Janie and Steven. She looks happy and free. Breathtaking.
I decide to walk to her instead. I can get some oxygen later. If I die, so be it.
Just as I reach her, a Beach Boys song comes on, one of the slow ones.
“Dance with—” I stop myself. “Harper, will you dance with me? Please?”
She nods, blushing.
I lead her by hand to the floor where other couples are already swaying. She gasps as I pull her close to me, close enough to make a statement. Because I am a needy, possessive bastard, apparently.
“You look beautiful,” I say.
“You too,” she says with a small smile.
“Yes, I know, I wore my most expensive tux,” I smirk down at her.
She frowns, “You did? For this? Why?”
“To seduce you, obviously.” I slide my hand on her lower back a bit lower still. “Is it working?”
She lets out a nervous laugh and says, “It’s not not working.”
“Brilliant. I’ll buy it in ev—”
“Hey baby, I put your song on for you. Mind if I cut in?” A deep voice interrupts me. I turn to promptly tell the wanker attached to said voice to kindly piss off, but my brain short circuits.
Because I know him. Pro golfer, been at many of the same charity galas as me. Won a long shot Monday tourney a couple years ago and became so famous he was given instant sponsorships and investment opps. Went from instant millionaire to A-List multi-millionaire in just a couple years.
But what is he doing here?
“Jimmy?”
“Hey, man. Aiden, right? Good to see you again, how do you know Harper?”
“I…”
“You two know each other?” Harper asks softly.
I turn to her, “You know Jimmy Bowen?”
Jimmy laughs, “JimBo to her, and everyone here I guess. But yes, of course she knows me,” I look at the man to process this new information but then he adds, “She’s my wife.”