7. Harris
7
HARRIS
I jammed the Phillips-head screwdriver in my pocket and lowered the slatted vent, then set it on the fold-out tray. Shifting my feet for better balance on the aluminum ladder stretched over the toilet, I peered up through the square opening.
It felt good to be busy, working with my hands. Growing up, I’d followed my father around like a puppy. Every time the man had to fix something in the house, I would be there, wanting to help. At first, I’d just made a mess, but as I got older and Dad’s lessons sank in, I found myself more and more able to actually help. I’d cherished those times with my dad, especially when things got bad and the house was full of tension, Chance and my father at each other’s throats. Dad would come home from a long day of work and start on fixing whatever needed repairing. I would crawl out of bed to join him, and we’d work silently until the job was done. We didn’t talk much, but the work brought us closer. It built a strong trust between us, which I missed. Looking back on it now, I found myself wondering why we hadn’t talked more, why I hadn’t asked more questions. There were so many things I didn’t know about him, and my opportunity to learn was over now.
Sick grief ripped through me, and I forced myself back into the present before I fell off the damn ladder.
Focusing on the exhaust fan, I noted the dust caked on the fan’s paddles and motor. It hadn’t been cleaned lately, or maybe ever, but I couldn’t see anything that would prevent it from working. Probably just burned out. No biggie. I could pop over to the hardware store and pick up a new unit. It wouldn’t take more than five minutes to plug a new one in and cross this item off the checklist.
Great, that’s one mystery solved. But what about last night, that slap on my ass?
All night, I’d chewed on that. What had it meant? When I woke up this morning (alone, in the second bedroom of Rachel’s apartment) I was no closer to understanding than before.
Had it been like “go team” or more like “nice ass”? My ego wouldn’t mind it being “nice ass,” but did that mean she was open to further exploration of our chemistry? I’d been getting mixed signals, and it was driving me nuts.
The front door creaked open—I’d have to oil that—and high heels came tapping across the foyer. I stilled and waited for the upstairs floor to creak, Rachel trotting down to greet her new guest. Instead, I heard retching, faint through the vent. I winced at the sound. Aw, man. Poor Rachel .
I brushed myself off and headed for the front desk. The guest had her back to me, but I still knew I was looking at Rachel’s mother. Tammy Winchester looked just like Rachel, if time and hard living had run her through the wringer. She had on a tight, sleeveless shirt and painted-on denim jeans, and where the snug outfit might be sexy on Rachel, on Tammy, it just looked…wrong.
Tammy unfolded a piece of paper and peered up at the ceiling, scouring the rafters as if they held the key to something.
I cleared my throat. “Can I help you?”
Tammy squeaked, hastily folded the paper, and attempted to shove it in her back pocket—a challenge, given the tightness of her clothes. It stuck for a moment, then fluttered to the floor, where the breeze caught it and whisked it behind the credenza. Tammy didn’t seem to notice and scowled at me instead.
“Who are you?” she demanded, straightening to her full height. She zeroed in on my tool belt, and her eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you some kind of handyman? And you’re greeting guests?”
“Something like that,” I said, deliberately vague.
“I need to see Rachel.” Tammy tried to skirt me, but I blocked her way. She dodged left, then right, then huffed in disgust. “Out of my way! Where is she? Rachel ?”
I held my ground, blocking the staircase. “I suggest you call her and schedule a visit.”
“Schedule—I’m her mother!” Tammy made a shooing gesture, flicking her nails at me. “You have no right to keep me from seeing my daughter.”
I spread out my arms, forcing her backward. Either she kept moving with me or I’d run her over. “I’m going to ask you to leave now.”
Tammy gave me a shove, but I didn’t budge.
“This is my place too,” she said, and pushed me again. I didn’t budge. “I don’t know what she told you, but the property belongs to both of us. If I want to?—”
Upstairs, Rachel retched again, stopping Tammy’s rant. I froze.
Shit .
A calculating gleam sparked in Tammy’s eyes, and I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. She eyed me up and down, from my head to my boots, then stood on tiptoe to peer up the stairs. That calculation deepened, and a smile I wanted nothing to do with spread across her face.
“You’re awfully protective for a handyman.”
“Time for you to go,” I announced, widening my arms again.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.” Tammy dug her heels in, but I kept moving, forcing her to back up or be pushed out the door.
“Like I said before.” I clamped onto her wrist when she tried to pivot around me. “Call your daughter later. You two can talk then.”
“Is she pregnant? Are you the father?”
I pushed her none too gently over the threshold.
“Don’t think this changes anything.” Tammy thumped on the doorframe. “I own fifty percent of this property, and that means whatever’s on this land is half mine too.”
I refused to react, but I really wanted to wring this woman’s neck. I wasn’t a violent man despite my profession, and I especially hated to see women hurt, but I was envisioning all kinds of ways I’d like to shake some sense into Tammy Winchester. Did she care nothing about Rachel? Even knowing she was pregnant, or at least suspecting?
“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.” I hustled her down the steps. The new one was lighter than the rest of the porch. I’d have to stain that later, to make it match.
Tammy stopped fighting me at the foot of the stairs. With one last glare, she whirled and marched to an aging Honda Accord, her heels leaving divots in the freshly mowed lawn. I thought about yelling for her to use the walkway, but she’d probably chew up the lawn even worse out of spite. I watched as she got in her car and drove off. Only when her taillights disappeared did I march back inside.
I stopped short as I caught sight of Rachel. She’d come down the stairs and was leaning on the railing.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I said. “You feel any better? I can scrounge up some protein.”
“In a while, maybe.” Her hips swayed enticingly as she stalked forward. The sun in her hair lit a fire inside me. “I thought we’d take a ride,” she said.
“Oh?”
“To the hardware store. We need some more drill bits, and I want to check paint samples.”
Not a date, then. Go team, not nice ass.
“All right,” I said. “Let me just grab my keys.”
I slipped off my tool belt and found my keys, and the two of us headed out to the car. I held Rachel’s door for her, and she slid inside. She leaned back in her seat and let out a soft moan.
“Mm, this is soft. Your car is amazing.”
“Dad’s car,” I said, even as my heart swelled with pride. “We fixed it up, me and my brothers, after he passed away. Sort of a tribute, I guess you might say.” I stuck my keys in the ignition but didn’t start the car. Rachel touched the dashboard, the ancient tape deck.
“It’s a classic,” she said. “And he left it to you?”
“He left it to all of us.” I felt my eyes burn. “But me and Dad were the closest, so it’s staying with me.” I cleared my throat to keep from choking up. “I told you about our road trip, me and Lee, right? I swear, there were times it was like Dad was with us. Like he’d yell from the back seat, quit riding the clutch !”
“It suits you,” Rachel said. “You know, I always wanted to take a road trip.”
“Oh, yeah? Where would you go?”
“Florida, maybe. Check out Disney World. Or I’d head up the coast, all the way to the border. To Canada, even. I’ve never been out of the country.”
I let out a chuckle. “Canada, huh?”
“Or just up the hill, to the cliffs by the beach. Y’know, where the kids go when they want to make out.”
I jerked around to face her. That was a signal. Had to be, right? And that glint in her eyes… But she hadn’t moved, hadn’t taken my hand. It wouldn’t do to take anything for granted. One night of passion didn’t mean?—
“Harris?” She was smiling, leaning in close. Her hand brushed my thigh, then settled on my knee. She leaned in and kissed me, and hell, fucking yeah ! Her breast brushed my arm. Her tongue darted out to taste my lips. She raked her nails through my short hair, and I let out a groan.
“Rachel…” I held her as close as the cramped space would allow and returned her kiss a hundredfold. She tasted of icy spearmint, but her mouth was hot. Her low sigh of hunger went straight to my dick. I surged out of my seat and pinned her to the door, my body pressed to hers, her teeth at my throat.
She nipped me and I moaned, and?—
“Wait. Hold on—Rachel?” I pulled back and released her, warning lights flashing. “I’m not hurting you, am I? Or the baby?”
Rachel chuckled. “I’d yell if you were.”
I sat back and feasted my eyes on her swollen lips and heavy-lidded expression. Ran two gentle fingers down the line of her cheek.
“Christ, you’re beautiful.”
“You’re not bad, yourself.” She kissed me again, just a quick peck this time. “You know,” she said, and her tone was one-hundred percent husky vixen, “you should be careful. I’ll start getting used to having you around.”
Finally, a clear signal. She wanted me around. But now that I’d gotten the confirmation I’d wanted, I was forced to ask myself…was that actually a good thing? I desired her, definitely. But what did I really have to offer her? I wanted to be a father, no debate there. And I wanted to explore what could happen with Rachel. But I couldn’t commit to her with my future up in the air. Ever since that last mission, I’d been struggling with whether I wanted to stay in the Marines. Shawn’s death had forced me to take a hard look at my life, and I’d realized the calling I’d once felt to serve as a Marine had ebbed away. But I didn’t have a game plan for doing anything else.
Rachel and the baby both deserved a hell of a lot more than a guy who was so lost.
“I’m good,” I deflected. “But they close for lunch, right?”
“Who? Oh, the hardware store? Yeah, right, they do.” Rachel sat back and reached for her seat belt. I put mine on, too, and started the Mustang. I had to be careful here. If she was catching feelings, I shouldn’t encourage it. Not until I had a clearer idea of what I was actually capable of offering.
“I saw a cool nightlight,” Rachel said. “For the nursery. It’s shaped like the moon, with a star hanging off it.”
My heart pulsed with warmth.
“I like that,” I said. “Sounds great.” This, planning the nursery, made it all feel real. Like Rachel and I were an actual couple. Like we’d planned this pregnancy and mapped out our future together—but the truth was, there was no map for where we were going. What if something went wrong? Could we survive it? Things did go wrong. Murphy’s Law was real. Sometimes, families fell apart. I’d seen it myself.
By the time we were in our teens, Dad and Chance were fighting constantly. Lee had gone quiet, pulling away. I had reasoned with them and yelled and begged—but none of it had worked. For all my efforts, they’d all drifted apart. I could only assume something similar happened with Dad and the admiral. What chance did I stand of being able to build something solid with Rachel?
“That’s the hardware store,” Rachel said.
I braked, a little too roughly, and swung into the parking lot. Rachel coughed, and I glanced at her. “Sorry. You okay?”
“I’m good,” she said. “But where was your head at?”
“The nursery,” I said, and it wasn’t exactly a lie. “We should get those stars, too. The kind you stick on the ceiling that glow in the dark. It’ll be educational, with the constellations.”
“You know any constellations?”
“I know the Big Dipper.”
“Your dick doesn’t count.” Rachel gave it a squeeze, then her hand was gone, and she slid out of the car. I chased her, laughing. For now, my worries could wait. Today was a good day, so why not enjoy it? That was one lesson I’d learned from my family. You never knew how many good days you’d get, so you should enjoy them while they lasted.
But always stay prepared for what might come next.