10HarperMisfires #2
“The phrase out of sight, out of mind was invented to describe me. If it’s behind a door, I forget that I own it. That’s why I have all open shelving in the kitchen. OK, I’m going to change into the sweats Emma hated.”
“I like them,” said Harper. “They’re soft.” He was definitely still in the phase of the breakup where he enjoyed doing all the things his ex hated.
“I shoved everything I bought you into the front closet over there,” he said, heading for his room but waving toward the living room.
“I find your open shelving really convenient,” said Harper, slipping out of her heels and leaving them in their usual spot by the front door.
“You do?” he called over his shoulder as he entered his bedroom. Harper knew she was a little pathetic to follow him, but sometimes he’d leave the door open, and she’d see him with his shirt off.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to remove my cabinet doors since I saw your kitchen,” said Harper. Then she realized that probably sounded weird. “I mean, I know how to take cabinet doors off.”
She paused to look at one of his art pieces—a Japanese woodblock print of a kabuki actor playing a samurai. She found the colors amazing, and the intricate lines were easy to get lost in.
“I got kind of woodworking obsessed for a while,” she said, remembering that she had been explaining about the cabinets. “Although, I did leave most of my tools back in Denver. But I could pick them up at Thanksgiving.”
“Cool,” he said, pulling on a t-shirt as he returned to the hall, and Harper tried not to drool over the brief glimpse of his chest.
“You don’t think it’s weird?” she asked hesitantly. Cooper had said it wasn’t a feminine hobby and refused to tell everyone she made their coffee table.
“Why would that be weird?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “Some people thought it was strange.”
“Well, some people obviously don’t have anything interesting going on in their lives and should shut the fuck up,” said Ash which made Harper laugh.
“OK,” he said, pushing up his sleeves, “I’m pouring. You’re opening. It’s Christmas before Halloween.”
He went to the bar and opened the wine fridge as Harper opened the closet—it was stacked with packages. As she moved a box, a bag on one of the upper shelves fell, the contents scattering onto the living room floor.
“Um… Ash? Why do you have hundred-dollar bills in a bag in a closet?”
“Oh, um…” Ash peered at the bizarre assortment of cash, plastic beads, and wrapped candies. “That was probably from the bachelor party I went to in New Orleans? Sorry.” He came over, gathered up the bits, shoved them back in the bag, and then chucked the whole thing back on the shelf. “It’s fine.”
“Don’t you want the money?”
“No? I would have to go through the bag, and then I would have to do something with the bag, and then I would have to go through the closet and clean the closet. I don’t know how much money that is, but it isn’t worth it.”
Harper thought there had been at least fourteen hundreds and a bundle of cash with a fifty on the outside. She couldn’t picture not wanting the money back.
“That closet is the scary closet. We just shove things into it,” he said firmly.
“My closet isn’t big enough to hold scary things,” said Harper.
“Nice closet,” said Ash, and Harper couldn’t help laughing.
“OK, well, if that’s the scary closet, let’s get my clothes out of there. You go back to pouring things and don’t look inside.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Harper dragged the delivery boxes out onto the living room floor and stared at them.
There were at least ten packages. Ash had bought her boxes and boxes of clothes just because he wanted to.
Harper didn’t know what to say to that, but she knew she wanted to tell Ash his fake dating idea was terrible, and they should try it for real.
She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him until he gave in and agreed with her.
She wasn’t going to do any of that. Ash had said they were friends, and she should take him at his word.
The doorbell rang, making Harper jump.
“It’s the food,” said Ash. He brought their food back and plonked the white bag down on the ottoman. “Which one are you opening first?”
“I don’t know! Smallest to largest? Largest to smallest?”
He grinned at her. “Does there have to be a system? Just pick one and open it. What do you want—red, white, Whiteclaw, or something with actual flavor?”
Harper chuckled. “White, please.”
An hour later, Harper was on her third glass of wine, sitting on the floor wearing a cardigan and some silk pants she’d put on around her dress.
Her damp dress had then been discarded over the back of the couch.
She wondered how long it would take her to add all her glorious new pretties to her spreadsheet.
Loewe, Versace, Libertine, Oscar de la Renta, Alexander Mcqueen…
Harper didn’t want to consider how much Ash’s shopping spree had cost him.
The Libertine hand-quilted trench coat and the Carolina Herrara watercolor floor-length dress were her new immediate favorite things ever.
But the silk trousers she was currently were quite possibly the most comfortable pants she’d ever worn.
She also didn’t want to admit that she’d tried to flash Ash a little bit of skin while changing in and out of her new things, but she most definitely had.
Ash was sitting on the ottoman behind her, surveying the cardboard and tissue paper destruction of his living room.
“How’d I do?” he asked, and she tilted her head backward to look up at him. That unbalanced her and she fell back against his knees, but Harper couldn’t work up an interest in moving. His phone chirruped, and he glanced at it but ignored it.
“Wonderfully,” said Harper, looking up at him. “You look funny upside down.”
“I’m not upside down. You are.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. The rest was pulled back into his usual messy ponytail. Harper always wanted to pull it free and play with his hair, but she didn’t think faux-girlfriends were allowed to do that.
“Ash,” said Harper, “this really has been fun. It’s been difficult being in a new city by myself. I like being with you. You make everything easier.”
“I told you Smoak and Ash go together,” he said, winding his finger through a lock of her hair. She rolled over, put her arms on his knees, and rested her chin on her arms. His fingers stayed wound in her hair.
“I guess I should have believed you,” she said.
His fingers stroked down the side of her face and curled under her chin, tugging her gently up to meet him.
Their lips met, and Harper melted into his kiss. Everything was silent, soft, and perfect. The world seemed far away, and for once, Harper could concentrate on the moment. Her body felt both serene and electrically alive.
Ash reached down and wrapped an arm around her waist. She was certain he would pick her up and pull her into his lap, and she was going to love it. His touch was deliciously firm and warm.
Then his phone let out an ear-splitting screech, and Harper jerked back in surprise.
“Fuck!” Ash fumbled at his phone, dropped it, and then snatched it off the floor. She could see a woman with cute spikey hair on the screen. “Uh... Fuck.” Instead of declining, he instantly answered.
“Mel, what the—” He cut off to listen to her. “Wait... what? What? Shit. Uh... yeah, I’ll be right there.” He hung up and stared at Harper. Harper stared back. “Uh... wait here. I’ll be right back. There’s an emergency... At the office.”