Chapter 31
I wake up to a sleepy Harper in my arms, her body wiggling as if she’s trying to get out from under my arm.
I tighten my hold and nestle closer to the mass of her hair. “No,” I grunt. “It’s too early.”
She giggles. “I have to pee!”
“No.”
“You can’t deny me that.”
“I can’t deny you anything,” I say, “except personal space.”
Harper chuckles again. Her ass is distractingly near, rubbing against my rapidly awaking cock. My right hand is resting against her ribs, fingers grazing her breast. She smells good. Like herself and sex and hotel linen.
“Nate,” she says while managing a brisk escape. One moment she’s here, and then she’s gone, sliding out of the sheets. “I’ll be right back!”
“I’m counting the seconds.” I turn onto my back. The room is cast in partial sunlight from the drawn drapes, the glow entering through the narrow gaps. Despite the intensity of the night, I’m half-hard again.
I grin up at the ceiling.
And what a fucking night.
Sleeping with Harper had been a constant fantasy of mine. For the past four years, I’ve used my right hand while imagining us in various positions. Often feeling guilty. But that did not stop the visions from playing out in my mind.
Reality has been so much better than anything my mind had ever conjured up.
“Nate?” Harper’s tentative voice comes from the bathroom.
I sit up in bed. “Yes?”
“I think I’m gonna jump straight into the shower,” she calls.
I throw back the sheet. Lord knows I need one, too. “We can take one together,” I say. “Let’s save water.”
“So climate-conscious,” she retorts.
“Of course. It’s one of Contron’s core values for the upcoming decade.” I’m grinning as I grip the handle. Open the bathroom door.
Harper is standing in front of the giant mirror, beneath the spotlights.
And she’s fully naked.
Turning every which way to look at her reflection, a tiny smile on her lips. “I’m covered in your come,” she says.
I freeze at the threshold. Possessiveness so strong it’s like a tidal wave sweeps through me, and I harden in an instant, staring at the woman I’ve spent all night making mine.
It might not mean that. Not to her. But in an animalistic, primal part of my mind, that’s exactly what I’d done. Every single time she came with my name on her lips… and every time I filled her up.
She looks at me, a blush creeping up her fair cheeks. “Sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry. I love it.” I wrap my arms around her waist from behind. “Besides, I’m the one who left it there, wasn’t I?”
“Mm-hmm. Yes, you are.” She leans her head against my shoulder and watches us in the mirror. She’s so beautiful. Long legs, curved hips, pink nipples, and wild hair.
“And now, you want to wash away my pretty markings,” I say in a tutting voice, brushing my hand over her hip, her thigh, between her legs.
She laughs. “I never pegged you as the possessive type,” she says. Turns in my arms and pulls me toward the giant shower. “Happy, charming, easy-going Nate Connovan.”
I reach past her and turn on the water. There’s no other place on Earth I’d rather be at this moment than right here with her naked and smiling in my arms. “Maybe I’m only easygoing about things that don’t matter,” I say. I don’t add the next thought that comes to mind.
Of course I’m possessive… when it’s you.
We hit one more museum before driving back to London. It’s a lengthy trip—four hours to the Channel and then almost two more back to the city. But I’ve never been one to mind driving long distances.
And when Harper is in the passenger seat, I could keep driving forever.
She’s chatty. Happy. She spins through music, plays a lot of her favorites, talks about the weekend that passed. She’s wearing the same short skirt from last night. And more than once I find myself resting my hand on her thigh while driving on the highway.
I don’t know if that’s friendly.
If we’re still in that damn friends help friends mode, but I don’t care. And she doesn’t seem to either, her hand occasionally coming to rest on top of mine.
One of these days, I’m going to have to tell her.
All of it.
But not yet. The last thing I want to do is scare her off, to ruin this, or to put any kind of pressure on this situation. It’s far too precious for that.
We stop at a fast-food restaurant, and she looks on in amusement when I eat a burger and fries. I have to tweak her nose and ask if she thinks I’m some kind of weirdo who’s never had fast food.
She shakes her head. “No. It’s just, this isn’t a Michelin-starred cuisine. It’s not fancy, or served by a waiter, or hand-cut and hand-seasoned, and it’s not?—”
I roll my eyes, taking a page from her book. “I can be a man of the people. For an hour or two.”
Harper laughs, and I tweak her nose again. It’s hard to not touch her. Now that I’ve begun, I’ll never be able to stop.
We pull into London around eight thirty in the evening. Harper has kicked off her shoes and is curled up on the passenger seat, half-asleep, with my sweater covering her legs.
I park the SUV outside the house rather than pulling into the garage. Easier to unload our bags.
“Harp,” I murmur, jostling her shoulder gently. “Baby, we’re home.”
She blinks her eyes open. “Huh?”
“We’re home.”
“Oh. Already?”
That makes me chuckle. “I’m glad it didn’t feel long. Yes. Already.”
She yawns and puts on her shoes. I get out of the vehicle and grab the bags from the back.
Harper exits—her braid is messy, her smile tired, but she looks happy. And something about this scene is so domestic that it makes my wrung-out heart tighten painfully.
“Home,” she murmurs and stretches. “Finally.”
I set the bags down on the sidewalk. I can’t help it. I have to reach for her. “Home,” I repeat and turn her smiling face up to mine.
My lips are barely brushing hers, and I shift to deepen?—
“What the fuck?”
The voice is furious, close, and American.
I lift my head, but tighten my arms around Harper. Scan around… until my eyes land on a man sitting on my stoop, half-hidden behind the shrub. I hadn’t seen him there. Had been so focused on our things and on Harper.
Dean stands, his face carved into angry incredulity. He looks from me to Harper, who has gone rigid in my arms, and then back to me.
A tense silence settles over us.
It lasts only a moment before Dean walks down the stairs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. There’s a suitcase behind him, tucked next to my door.
“Dean,” I say. My voice comes out remarkably calm. “You didn’t tell me you’d be coming.”
“Yes, I did.” His voice is acidic. “I called you on Friday, and when you didn’t answer, I texted you. But I guess you’ve been too busy to check your messages.”
Harper’s hand falls from mine. “What are you doing here?” she asks.
I hate how her voice sounds. Shocked. Hurt. And anxious.
Dean’s eyes land on her. “Didn’t waste any time, did you?”
“Dean,” I say sharply. “I get that this is a surprise, but don’t say things you’ll regret.”
“Things I’ll regret?” he asks and shoots me a hateful glare. “You’re the one doing things you’ll regret. Harper, man?”
“You know just how amazing she is, or you wouldn’t be here.”
He shakes his head in disbelief and looks back at this ex-fiancée. Seeing them together again, standing here… it makes my stomach turn. I don’t know how I managed it for so many years.
I hate how he glares at her.
“I came to London to see you,” he says. His hands come out of his pockets, and form fists at his sides. “To convince you that your leaving was a mistake. I wanted to talk about the wedding cancellation fees and see if we could come to some kind of… settlement. I even have a goodie bag from your mom with me. She put together your favorite American foods, and fuck you, Harper. My best friend?!”
“He’s not your best friend,” Harper says with a vehemence that surprises me. Judging by the look in Dean’s eyes, he’s shocked, too. “Be honest about that for once, Dean. You think he’s just a great contact to have and maintain.”
Dean’s lips turn into a snarl. “What do you know? He and I went to college together. And now he’s done this… fuck. I had no idea you two were involved. Was this happening before, Harper? Is this the real reason you called off the wedding?”
“Cool it,” I tell Dean.
He glares at me.
Harper takes a step forward, leaning in like she’s ready to strike. “Nate had nothing to do with calling off the wedding. That was all me.” Her voice is sharp, dripping with anger. “I hated the way you treated me the last two years we were together, and you refused to listen to me about it. The only one to blame for our breakup is you. Not Nate.”
A flash of genuine hurt passes through Dean’s eyes, there and gone again in a blink, his face returning to a sneer. “Right. I’m to blame? Our friends and families were just as surprised as me. That doesn’t tell you something?”
“Yes,” she says, voice fierce. “It tells me that we were great at putting up a facade.”
Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “I had to talk to the wedding dress designer yesterday. She called my mother in tears, upset that the gown she worked on for months would go to waste.”
“You’re lying,” Harper says. “I spoke to her myself weeks ago.”
“Then, why did my mother tell me that? You’re saying she’s lying, too?”
“Because the wedding designer is her best friend’s daughter! Because you control everything!” Harper’s voice turns exasperated, and she shakes her head so sharply, making her curls bounce. “Dean, why did you really come to London? Don’t tell me you came here to see me.”
“Why the fuck else would I be here?” he says. “Now that I know my friend is a backstabbing snake.”
“I never lied to you about Harper,” I say.
Dean gives me a withering look. “Right. Just conveniently avoided mentioning… this, you two, when we spoke on the phone.”
“You weren’t ready to hear it,” I say simply.
Harper’s voice has steadied. “Did you come here to try to convince me to go back to New York? To coerce me with the wedding costs?”
“Coerce,” Dean scoffs. “I came because this misguided little plan of yours has been going on for far too long. You’re across the fucking ocean, doing an internship? At twenty-eight?”
“It’s a junior trainee position,” she says. “Not that you’d know. You never listened when I spoke about my goals and ambitions.”
“So now it’s my fault that you had a quarter-life crisis?” He shakes his head and looks over at me. “Where does Nate factor into this? Was he your little savior when you needed money? You traded me for him?”
Harper makes a tiny, pained sound, and it pierces through me like an arrow. I step forward. “Shut up, Dean,” I order. “Just shut up about things you know nothing about.”
“So I’m correct,” he says.
“No, you’re wrong, and hurt, and angry. And you’re saying shit that’s only going to make things worse. You won’t be happy you reacted this way when you’ve calmed down.”
“And you’d know that how?” he asks me, cocking his head with the sneer still in place. “Because you never do things you regret? No, you never do anything at all. The perfect Connovan boy—rich since birth, with everything handed to him.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I tell him.
“Stop it. Stop. Nate hasn’t done anything wrong,” Harper says. “We’re friends. I’m single, he’s single. It’s not a crime.”
Dean bores his eyes into her. “I’m going to enjoy creating a monthly payment plan for you. You said you wanted me to add interest, too, right?”
“Yes,” Harper says, and I see her physically pull her shoulders back. Steel herself to stay resolute in her decision, despite his tone making it into something ugly and coercive.
I hate seeing it. Hate seeing her forced to be strong when she doesn’t have to be. Hate that Dean has this hold over her. At this moment, it’s hard to look at my friend and remember that I ever felt guilty about being in love with his fiancée.
He never deserved her.
I’ve felt that way for years. Felt guilty about feeling it. Now, the guilt is gone, washed away, and I’m left with a bone-deep certainty.
“Dean, grab your bag,” I say. “You’re not staying here.”
“Fine.” He reaches for the handle of his travel case. “Damn right I’m not.”
He steps past Harper and opens his mouth, but I beat him to it. Put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve said enough. Leave her alone. Harper, if you want to go inside, feel free.”
Her eyes meet mine, and there’s gratefulness there. Then, she’s gone, walking up the steps and unlocking the door with her key. I can’t imagine ever asking for it back.
“I don’t even know what to say to you,” Dean growls. His voice is low and furious. “I asked you to keep an eye on her. Not to start fucking her!”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Maybe you should have fucked her better, then, and she wouldn’t have left.”
His eyes widen. It’s a low blow, and I shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have gone there at all, I know that, but Harper’s pained expression when she talks about his actions haunt me. I want to hit him where it counts. I want to knock the wind out of him and send him on his way.
“Fuck you,” he spits. “You could have told me about it.”
“I could’ve. And I would have, if you hadn’t showed up unannounced here like this. Were you planning to stay with me?”
“Of course I was. You once said I had an open invitation.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Now, I wouldn’t step foot in your place.”
“Good. Because you’re not welcome in any of them.”
“What the hell happened, man? Why did you decide she was more important than this?” His eyes narrow, and his voice drops. “Why are you angry at me here?”
Oh.
Oh.
I level him with a stare I’ve seen my brother use more than once. A look my dad is an expert at, and my voice naturally slides into the same unforgiving tone they perfected. “Because I know better now. I know how you used your money to manipulate her. How you consistently ridiculed her dreams, and how you’ve continued to call and hound her about canceling the wedding. Enough, Dean. Enough.”
“So you’re on her side now?” He shakes his head, again. “You were just waiting in the wings, huh? Waiting to swoop in and scoop her up as soon as she was single.”
I lean in closer. “Maybe I was, Dean. And maybe you should have realized what a catch she was when she was yours. But she’s not anymore. And you will stop calling her.”
“Not for you to decide,” he sneers.
“Enlighten me. What’s the plan? You’re paying for wedding expenses, taking on the debts so that she will feel beholden to you. And then, you’ll use that as your excuse to keep in constant contact with her as she repays you.” I raise an eyebrow. “At some point, I’m guessing, you plan to tell her that it would be much easier if the two of you just got back together. Because then, she wouldn’t have to make the payments anymore. Right?”
Dean’s silence and the anger in his eyes tell me I’m spot-on.
“How much is it?”
He grits his teeth, but he answers. Spits out the number as if it hurts. And it’s so much lower than my ballpark estimate that it makes me laugh.
I don’t mean to. But to concoct all of this over that sum…
Dean’s eyes flash with indignation. “As if you haven’t done that and worse in business.”
“Sure. In business. Not to a woman I love.” I reach into my pocket and grab my phone. “Let’s see. With interest, right?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m setting up a wire transfer. I’ll have that to you with… let’s say I round it up for good measure, hmm?… By Tuesday at the latest. My assistant will call you to confirm.”
“You can’t do that,” he says.
“Of course I can. And I just did.” I slide my phone back into my pocket and gesture to the street. “Now, I suggest you get a cab. Check into a hotel… and grab the first flight back to New York tomorrow.”
He takes a step back, hand tightening around the handle of his suitcase. “You can’t keep her locked up here,” he seethes and looks toward my townhouse. “You can’t keep her from me.”
“If she wants to see you, Dean, she’s more than welcome to. But last time I checked… she doesn’t. Has asked you repeatedly to stop calling. Tried amicable ways to resolve the cancellation fees. So I’m telling you, not advising you, to leave London. Now.”
Dean’s eyes burn. “I always fucking hated you. You know that? You had it so easy in college. Got a multibillion-dollar company handed to you. Fuck you, Nate. You can have her.”
I smile. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”
“Screw you,” he scoffs again, then he turns and walks quickly down the sidewalk. Past the park and back to the main road.
I remain standing in the same spot long enough to make sure Dean is really gone before I grab our bags and head inside my home, where Harper is waiting for me.