Chapter 9
HARPER
Music playing, feet tapping to the beat, I ignored the rest of the world as I focused on the task at hand.
The scent of sugar, flour, and rising dough filled the air, reminding me of home.
That stray melancholy thought circled within me and rather than pushing it away as I tended to do these days, I latched on to it.
We’d been the fearsome four growing up. My parents loving, open, and vibrant.
My dad had loved to fish and while Joshua had been squeamish, I’d been the one at Dad’s side, learning how to cast a line.
I learned patience—though I still fell short in that arena.
Dad had sports, hiking, caving, kayaking, and so much more with Joshua. And I’d never felt the lack.
Mom had baking and gymnastics with me. We’d tumble around the yard and my dad would wolf whistle at Mom, though I hadn’t known what it had meant at the time.
Joshua had been older and had blushed, rolling his eyes.
But he—and sometimes Dorian—would cheer me on during summer events when we’d all been children finding our ways.
Baking, however? That had been just me and Mom. Dad could cook like nobody’s business and had taught me, but Joshua hadn’t been able to boil water without forgetting the pot was on the stove. He’d been brilliant at so many things but cooking had never been one of them.
Baking had been mine. I’d learned bread, cakes, pastry, chocolate work, and so much more.
We’d sit together and watch the Great British Baking Show and learn all the technical bakes together.
I’d even learned to measure ingredients with a scale rather than how most Americans did because Mom and I had been so addicted to the show.
Then they’d died and my world had ended.
At least that’s how it had felt at the time. Joshua hadn’t been old enough to be my guardian, but my grandparents hadn’t wanted both of us. I hadn’t realized true hatred or neglect until I’d been torn from the only family I’d never known and forced to live with them.
I barely remembered those years, to be honest. Not that I’d repressed them—no, I remembered the beatings.
The screaming in my face because I refused to eat lima beans and begged for a glass of milk to wash it down.
I’d had to sit at the table and eat each bean, one by one, until I gagged and then finally I was allowed my milk.
They never knew I threw it up later when my body couldn’t handle the stress.
They’d taken me out of tumbling and forced me to work on their farm in the evenings instead. They’d taken Joshua away from me and I’d never told him the worst of it because he’d always felt like he’d failed me.
It had taken a storm to bring the small family I’d had left back together.
In an act of defiance, I’d went outside in the dark to tumble across the grass.
I’d wanted to remember my mom because my grandparents refused to talk about their daughter or the fact that my father had apparently kidnapped her to marry her.
That hadn’t been the case of course, but my grandparents had lied easier than breathing.
When my grandpa had found me outside, he’d tied me to the porch and screamed in my face. Then Grandpa had slapped me, calling me names and my father’s brat. I’d cried and begged for Joshua and the slaps came again.
They’d left me on the porch in my tears even as the storm came. I could still remember the seeping cold latching to my skin and my breath.
I didn’t remember much after that.
Only the fevers, the tears, and finally, finally, Joshua finding me and taking me home with him. The courts couldn’t keep us apart after that. No, only fate and an engine failure had done that.
I barely had nightmares about that time anymore. My big brother had saved me and had let me thrive into the woman I’d become. There had been no need to dwell on the pain my grandparents had left behind. My new terrors were the reality that remained.
It made me wonder what dreams Dorian shied away from—and why he continued to fix up that old Ackerson place as if he were running from his own nightmares.
The hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality and I screamed, whirling as I did so, tossing the dough I’d kneaded into a wasted rock at the hard chest in front of me.
Dorian blinked at me then down to where the dough rested. “So…how are things?” He drawled out the words before studying my face.
I blinked, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. “I didn’t know you were here,” I blurted.
He merely snorted before gesturing to the rest of the kitchen. “I would think not since your music is blaring and the rest of your team headed home for the day.”
“What?” I turned to look at the clock and cursed. “How is it so late?”
“Time moves on,” he grumbled. “Seriously, though. Melody only left because I was here but are you sure it’s safe for you to be back here with the music blaring and so lost in your thoughts you have no idea about your surroundings?”
Annoyance settled in and I narrowed my gaze. “Don’t act all big brother protective, Dorian.”
“You know there’s nothing big brother about me right row.”
And there it was. The thing we weren’t talking about. Yet it screamed at the both of us.
“Is there a reason you snuck up on me?”
In answer, he scowled before reaching out to brush a piece of my hair behind my ear. I ignored the shivers sliding down my spine.
“I came here to see if you wanted to eat dinner.”
Part of me wondered if he had just asked me out on a date.
But then I remembered this was Dorian Cage, and nothing was as it seemed.
He was the playboy of the Cages. The number of women that I had heard connected with him over the years was insurmountable.
Yes, most of it was probably a lie, made up by his groupies and admirers. But not all of it.
I wasn’t even sure how many people he had been with since he and Amy had broken up. Though broken up didn’t seem like the right word. Her walking away because she was spineless, that sounded more factual.
“Oh. Well. I have to pick up Lucky.”
“Your dog can eat at my place too. I have a couple of things to do, figured we’d eat. Watch Shaun of the Dead.”
My lips twitched, remembering the first time we had watched that movie. “You told me it was a comedy.”
“It is.”
“You forgot to mention it was a zombie movie.”
“It has dead in the title.”
“I didn’t really think about that at the time. And I didn’t see the movie poster. It scared me.”
“I’ll take care of you.”
“You told me that you owed me a movie from that. I remember.” I narrowed my gaze at him.
“You’re going to make me watch Pride and Prejudice, aren’t you?”
“Damn straight. We are going to watch both of them tonight.”
“How did this turn into two movies?”
“Because I’m special like that.”
He rolled his eyes, then gestured towards the dough I had ruined.
“Do you need help cleaning up?”
“No, luckily we close the bakery earlier than most places since we wake up earlier than the rest. Do you mind picking up Lucky? I can clean up here, and then meet you outside?”
“I don’t know if I like leaving you alone.”
“I’m an adult, Dorian. When are you going to remember that?”
He brushed his thumb along my jaw, and I sucked in a breath. “Wellesley, sometimes it’s all I can think about.”
And with that, he left to go pick up Lucky, leaving me wondering what the hell I was doing.
Because I was pretty sure I was about to have a date with Dorian Cage.
Or one very long night.
* * *
“He just touched her hand. Why do you keep giggling?” Dorian asked as we sank into the couch, our feet up on the coffee table. We had been here a few hours now, the evening long past. The moon had risen into the sky, and dinner was already eaten, and the dishes put away.
And now I had forced him to watch my favorite movie of all time. Because the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice was the best version. I didn’t care what anybody said. For the hand flex alone, I would fight for that right.
“You know why it’s so wonderful? Women didn’t touch men like that ever.
Especially without gloves. And then she’s so surprised that he touches her at all, and he has to flex his hand when she’s not looking because he can still feel her warmth.
” I put my hand to my chest and let out a dramatic sigh.
“Between that and Bingley reaching for Jane’s ribbons on her dress at the dance, so many women love this movie. ”
“I will say, I love watching you watch this movie. It makes the fact that I’m watching this damn movie worth it.”
“You love this movie too. Don’t lie to me.”
“It’s okay.”
“I promise that we’ll watch Shaun of the Dead after this.”
“Oh, we will be. I don’t care how late it gets.” He looked at his watch and grimaced. “It may be a midnight movie, but then you’re just stuck with me all night.” As soon as he said the words, a silence echoed between us, and I cleared my throat.
“Lucky is all settled on the dog bed that you bought him, so I wouldn’t mind that.”
What the hell was I doing? Was this me hitting on Dorian again? Well, fuck yes it was. But I had never been good at this, especially with the one person I’d been crushing on since I had turned eighteen.
“If you can take Shaun of the Dead that is,” he said dryly as he nudged me with his elbow.
Laughing, I leaned into him a bit more, resting my head on his shoulder. He adjusted, wrapping his arm around me, and I sunk into him. He smelled like Dorian, that sandalwood and cedar scent that just did things to me. My toes curled, and I told myself that it was just the movie. The ambiance.
We were just good friends, cuddling on the couch and watching Pride and Prejudice.
“Back in the day, I would sit on the couch with friends, take an edible because it’s Colorado and it’s legal here, and watch movies until the sun came up. Then I’d go straight to school, kick ass, and at some point, sleep. I have no idea how I made it through college.”