Chapter Eight #2
And Charlie couldn’t help but wonder what about her made Harper think she was a rule follower.
She’d never broken the law while doing her job—well, not until possibly at the end, when she’d taken the payout and walked away anyway—but there’d always been an air of “the rules don’t apply to us” around the office.
Like they were so damn good at their jobs that the normal rules of the market didn’t apply because they could make money in every market condition.
But later, the mentality around the office, the toxic swagger of superiority, had made her nauseated. Because clearly, some people truly believed that the rules of law didn’t apply to them, and it had cost her her job. Fucking pricks.
A new crack of thunder thankfully brought her back to the moment. and Franky’s yelp spurred her to grab a towel off the shelf in Harper’s bathroom and rush back to the living room.
“I’m sorry, little girl,” Charlie said as she squatted and dried her off with vigor. “Now, let’s get you in that jacket, huh?”
Putting the coat on Franky was surprisingly easy, but looking at her scared eyes, Charlie couldn’t bring herself to leave her alone with the storm still raging outside.
“Franky girl, how do you feel about running next door with me so I can change? We’ll only be a minute, and then I’ll snuggle with you on the couch, okay? ”
She hated how quickly she’d gone from having a great day to feeling sullied by the taint of her former job.
She’d been working so hard to put the past behind her and move on.
She needed to keep that shit where it belonged because it wasn’t who she was.
It wasn’t a part of the life she was making for herself anymore.
She didn’t yet know what that life would ultimately look like, but neither D.
B. Graves nor Wall Street would have any part of it.
She hadn’t touched a penny of the blood money they’d wired to her, and she had no intention of doing so.
Other than maybe donating it. That would probably be cathartic and might help her rehabilitate her karma.
It was after three in the morning when Harper slipped back into her apartment completely exhausted and nearly tripped when she stumbled upon the most adorable sight.
The thunderstorm had passed several hours ago, so she’d expected Charlie to have gone home, if she’d even stayed after giving Franky her meds. Instead, she was curled up on Harper’s couch with Franky lying on top of her, head on Charlie’s shoulder and Harper’s throw blanket across both of them.
Harper froze, unsure what to do. She could let Charlie sleep there, but she feared Charlie’s back might never be the same after lying on the uncomfortable couch with an eighty-pound dog on her all night. Yet, she hated to disturb her while she was sleeping so peacefully.
Her insides felt like they were turning to mush seeing what good care Charlie had taken of Franky. She’d never in a million years expected Charlie to snuggle with Franky to comfort her all evening.
She filled a glass with cool water from the pitcher in her fridge and guzzled it while she decided how to handle this situation.
She finally decided that she had to at least try to wake her up, so she stood a few feet away and softly said, “Charlie.” A testament to the trazadone’s effects, Franky didn’t stir, but unfortunately, neither did Charlie.
Harper said her name louder a few times but nothing. Shit. Should she just leave her?
Fear gripped her heart as feelings of protectiveness toward both of them bubbled, and she almost went to bed to avoid the situation entirely, but she’d slept on that couch a handful of times herself, and she’d barely been able to walk the next day.
Maybe Charlie’s back wasn’t like hers, but if it was…
She sat on the coffee table and gently touched Charlie’s arm as she said her name again. This time, Charlie’s eyes fluttered half-open.
“Wha?” she said, her voice rough and hoarse. “Harper?”
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Harper said.
“Am I in the hospital? Why can’t I move? Am I paralyzed?” Her eyes flew open, and panic crossed her face.
“No, you’re on my couch. Franky is on top of you, which is why you can’t move.” If Harper thought she’d been mushy inside before, watching Charlie’s arm tighten around Franky had her bones melting. How was she going to stand after this?
Charlie let out a long breath, and Harper could see the tension drain away. “Oh, right. She was so afraid of the storm, but this seemed to settle her down.” She gestured with the arm not pinned beneath Franky.
“She’s a cuddler, for sure.” Harper couldn’t believe Charlie had chosen to let Franky climb on top of her and stay there. “You’re welcome to stay here if you want, but the few times I’ve slept on this couch, my back hated me.” She shrugged.
Charlie shifted on the couch as if taking stock of her back and muscles. “I should probably get up. I am a little tight. But how do we get her to move?”
“First, we wake her up, and then, I get her a treat so she thinks moving is her idea. And then, we hope she doesn’t do permanent damage to any of your internal organs when she jumps down.”
Charlie laughed. “Am I going to get hazard pay for this?”
“Of course! Name your price.”
“I’m going to need to think on what would be appropriate and get back to you. But it’s going to be something hefty.” Charlie grinned at her, clearly kidding.
“All right, let’s do this.” Harper stood and moved to the top of the couch behind Charlie’s head so she could gently wake Franky.
She started by just scratching her neck, and Franky’s eyes fluttered opened for a second, but she harrumphed, and they closed again.
“Okay, guess I’m going to have to be a little more forceful. ”
“She’s really out of it. Is she okay?”
“Yeah, it’s the drugs. It’s why I don’t like to give them to her other than during thunderstorms and the Fourth of July. It’s either zombie mode or total mess.”
Harper leaned down and pressed noisy kisses into Franky’s neck. Franky stirred but not enough, so Harper knew she was going to have to pull out the big guns. She pressed her lips against Franky’s neck and blew, and Franky’s head immediately popped up, eyes wide.
However, when she locked eyes with Charlie, Harper realized with a jolt just how close their faces were. Mere inches separated them. Breathing the same air. Harper’s breath caught, and Charlie’s eyes went wide too.
Panic gripped Harper, and she took three quick steps back. “Come on, Franky. You want a treat?” She tried to regulate her breathing as she went to the kitchen and pulled out a bag of crunchy peanut butter and bacon treats, Franky’s favorite.
Franky was nothing if not predictable as she slowly hopped off Charlie and lumbered to the kitchen. “Yes, good girl,” Harper praised. “Why don’t you go lie down in bed?”
“She knows to go to bed?” Charlie asked as she pulled the blanket off and sat up, rubbing a spot in the center of her chest. “Man, Franky has big paws.”
Harper was surprised to see that Charlie must have gone home to change before hunkering down with Franky and tried not to stare at the V-neck of her white shirt that provided an enticing glimpse of cleavage.
Or the creamy skin of her long legs revealed by her very short shorts. She’d only seen those legs in leggings.
Jeez Louise.
Harper tried to shake some sense into herself. “Yeah, sorry, she’s a bit of an oaf and doesn’t have a lot of body awareness. And, yes, she knows the word bed. It’s one of her favorite times of the day.”
“Mine too these days.” Charlie yawned and stretched her arms overhead before folding at the waist until she touched her toes.
Harper’s mouth went dry, and she blinked her eyes closed, holding them tight as though she could physically block her body’s reaction if she didn’t let a sliver of light in.
Spoiler alert, it didn’t work as the image of Charlie, her arms dangling as she swayed, seemed burned on the backs of her eyelids.
“That makes my back feel so much better. Franky did a number on me, but I can feel everything releasing.” She moaned, and Harper thought she might die.
“That, uh, that really helps your back, huh? Just bending over like that?”
“Totally. It’s one of my favorite yoga postures. Aptly called forward fold.” Her voice was a little muffled as she continued swaying as she slowly stood. When she was upright again, she pushed her fists into her lower back and arched as she turned toward Harper, thrusting her chest out.
Harper couldn’t take it. She pulled a glass out of the cupboard, filling it with tap water, having forgotten about the glass she’d filled just moments before and abandoned on the counter until a glint of reflected light caught her eye.
Oh well. By the time she downed the glass, Charlie thankfully seemed to be done torturing her and was grabbing her phone off the table.
Harper cleared her throat. “Thanks again for taking care of Franky. You went above and beyond. Are you sure I can’t pay you? ”
“I’m positive. Thank you, though.” When Harper tried to protest, Charlie continued, “No, really. Franky was…good for my soul tonight. So it was perfect. She was my therapy dog.”
“Okay, well, thank you again. And drinks are on the house. Whenever, okay?” Harper ignored the urge to hug her and stayed rooted in place as Charlie let herself out.
It had to be because it was coming up on four a.m., and Harper was exhausted.
That was the only reason her body was betraying her.
And Charlie had been so sweet to take such good care of Franky.
It was the only thing that made sense.