Chapter 35
Sunday
At the sound of a truck heading up the driveway, Harper lifts her head from the sofa, tipping the baby pink sleep-mask from over her eyes.
And when she sees that it’s her fiancé Mitch putting his vehicle into park after a long week of joinery, she drops the sleep-mask onto the cushion beside her and flashes me a naughty smile.
I can’t help but laugh with her as I watch her manoeuvre herself upright, her golden hands holding her little bump that shows she’s around five months along.
I set my laptop onto the bespoke coffee table in the centre of Mitch and Harper’s warm-tone living room, the webpage for one of my favourite local décor companies on the screen, showing one of the signs that I want to purchase for Casey’s bar.
“Do you want me to help you up?” I start to ask her, but she immediately shoots up her palm, panting, “No, no, I’ve got this.”
“Okay,” I say gently, respecting her independence, but I still watch her without blinking to make sure that she’s steady on her feet.
Her baby-bump isn’t huge yet, but Harper’s been sleepy all day so she’s a little delicate.
When she finally stands upright, she wipes her brow with her wrist, smiling nervously.
“I’m gonna go get that,” she tells me, a cute blush spreading up her cheeks as she glances toward the front door, and then she’s shuffling carefully through the dining room and fluffing up her pretty blonde blow-out as she makes her way to the foyer.
And just as her fiancé steps down from his truck, Harper’s pulling open the front door, resting her cheek against the wood and smiling up at him.
He all but jogs up the porch steps, his large palms around Harper’s bump in less than five seconds, and then he’s dipping down to give her a gentle kiss, walking her backwards into the house.
“Hey, baby,” he rumbles quietly, his voice so deep that it actually makes me blush.
And then he glances over Harper’s shoulder, sees me curled up on his sofa, and comes to a stop. After a moment he recomposes and gives me a nod, which makes me fight back a little smile because I know that Mitch is typically pretty stoic. But we’ve technically known each other forever and, even back in high school, he was always polite with me.
Even if Mitchell Coleson isn’t the most talkative guy in Phoenix Falls, I know for a fact that he’s a total gentleman.
“Hey,” he calls over, his gruff voice surprisingly gentle, like he’s making an effort to be nice with me because he knows what’s going on between me and his brother.
“Hey,” I reply softly, getting to my feet and padding over to them.
Mitch tugs his jacket down his biceps and tosses it over one of the dining room chairbacks, before pulling Harper back into his arms and holding her belly as they walk toward me.
I gesture to my laptop on the coffee table and say, “I can head now that you’re home – Harper was just helping me pick some furnishings for Casey’s bar.”
I don’t want to get in their way on a Friday afternoon, after Mitch has had a full week of manual labour during the rough transitioning period at the end of winter.
But Mitch is unfazed, which really shouldn’t surprise me, because he’s got the same controlled temperament that I’ve always loved about Jason.
“Yeah? What’d you pick?” Mitch asks Harper gently, before adding in my direction, “Stay for dinner, if you want.”
I can’t help but smile at how surprisingly sweet he is, and we all head toward the sofas so that Harper can rest her feet again.
Mitch glances at the pale pink eye-mask that Harper discarded on the back of the couch, and I just know that he’s dying to ask her how she’s been feeling and if she’s rested enough.
But he just helps her sit back down on the pillows, tucking her under his biceps as he heaves himself beside her.
I move over to her other side, my movements extra gentle because I know how protective Mitchell is.
I position my MacBook on my lap but angle the screen toward them, so that Harper can show her fiancé the pieces that we picked.
“Sunday showed me photos of the bar that she owned back in Nashville, and we thought that we could encapsulate that vibe but make it even more cosy and intimate. Like, the dark wood’s a given because of the furnishings you and the guys put in there already, but we wanted to keep it warm and kind of sexy, so we’re going for reds and oranges with the signage.”
Mitch strokes his thumb against Harper’s arm as she scrolls down the page, and when she looks up at him to gauge his reaction, he offers her a handsome smile as she strokes his stubble. Then he breathes out a laugh, gently kissing her temple.
“Yeah, they look great,” he tells her gruffly, before glancing over at me, his brow lifting slightly. “Is this for Case’s homecoming thing that Jace was telling me about?” he asks, and I twist my lips to hide my smile, because I forgot that all of Jason’s guys call him ‘Jace’.
“Kind of,” I tell him. “But they’re also for the bar in general. Like, I have no freaking idea why Casey decided to buy a bar while he’s deployed but, given my history in Nashville, I want him to succeed at whatever he does. And I know a thing or two about running a bar so I thought that I could help him out a little. I just want to make it look perfect for when he’s finally home.”
Mitch watches me for a long moment, almost looking like he’s about to say something, but he exhales quietly and nods again, before brushing a kiss to Harper’s cheek as he stands up.
He runs both of his hands over his hair, making his tan biceps curl against his navy shirt sleeves, and I cast a quick glance down at his cargo pants, the muscles of his quads straining through the fabric.
No wonder Harper was so enamoured by him that she decided to leave Los Angeles for good.
Mitchell Coleson is really hot.
“Okay, I’m gonna shower,” Mitch rumbles quietly, stroking his hand over Harper’s fluffy hair as she peeks up at him from the sofa. “And then I’ll be down in five to start on the food.”
He leans down to kiss her forehead and then he makes his way toward the stairs, and Harper drops her head back on the cushions, fanning her hot-pink cheeks and making me laugh.
“He’s just so handsome,” she breathes out raspily, her voice feather-light and tears shining in her eyes.
And I laugh quietly as I give her wrist a squeeze, knowing that her pregnancy hormones have had her feeling twenty different kinds of ways today.
“If you want, I can head out,” I offer again, knowing that Jason has planned to meet me here after him and his crew finish up their Friday diner guy-thing. But I can text him to change plans if my phone has finally gained a bar of charge after plugging it into Harper’s charger around ten minutes ago.
Because I can imagine that if I wasn’t here, Mitch would have thrown having a shower out of the window and opted instead for a romantic bath with his soon-to-be wife. He might be quiet and controlled, but I’ve seen the way that he looks at her, and I know that he cherishes every second that they have together.
“No, seriously, you should stay – we haven’t hung out like this together yet,” she says, giving me a little peek at her Hollywood smile as she squeezes my forearm.
Harper and I have hung out a couple of times this past week, but I honestly feel like I’ve known her forever.
“If you’re sure,” I start to say, but then the sound of tires crunching through snow fills the room, and we both glance toward the driveway, not expecting anyone to pull up just yet.
Jason and his guys usually head to the diner after half-four, so I blink in surprise when I see his black truck easing smoothly up the drive.
Harper flashes a look in my direction, silently asking me if I was expecting him so soon, and I give her a quick shake of my head before rising to my feet and padding cautiously toward the door.
Jason’s halfway up the porch before I’ve even pulled open the front door, and then he’s wrapping his hands around my shoulders and searching my eyes before gathering me close.
“Jason?” I ask gently, the hard rise and fall of his chest putting me on edge. “Are you okay? Is everything okay?”
He cups the back of my head for a moment longer, tangling his fingers through my ponytail before pulling away. His strong brow is furrowed and I feel my blood pump faster as his eyes search mine.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he rumbles, his eyes flicking up to the top of the stairs as his brother steps onto the landing, his tan chest sparkling with water and a white towel gripped tight around his hips.
“What’s up?” Mitch asks cautiously, keeping one fist on his towel as he heads down the stairs.
I bring my eyes back up to Jason’s and he watches me carefully. His large palms rub my waist so that he can tug me closer, keeping me safe.
“Jason?” I ask again, not liking the pre-emptive tears stinging in my eyes.
I place one of my hands over his chest and he envelops it with his, squeezing me firmly.
And then he rips the Band-Aid.
“It’s Casey,” he says.