27. Harper
CHAPTER 27
Harper
It felt good to be off my feet, even just for the short drive home. After another long day at the bakery, and my body busy diverting energy to growing the tiny one, I was wiped.
However, I did feel better than I had in a while. At least I was no longer freaking out. It wasn’t that I was completely chill about being pregnant—that was going to take a while to sink in—but it no longer felt like an emergency.
Garrett loved me. That was all I needed.
I’d slept at his place the previous night, which had been wonderful. The only downside was having to peel myself out of bed at three in the morning so I could get to the bakery. That was considerably harder when I had a warm Garrett next to me.
Small price to pay for the best sleep of my life.
I pulled up to my house, making a mental note that I had a package at the front door, and parked in my garage. When I got out of my car, I cast a quick glance at the box still sitting on top of the murder bear. I probably needed to just throw it away. Obviously it was a harmless stuffed animal—no sign that it was coming to life at night—but it creeped me out every time I saw it .
The door to the garage led into the kitchen, and I flicked on the lights when I went in. I didn’t want to forget the package outside, so I made sure to grab it. It didn’t seem like porch pirates were a huge problem in Tilikum, but why take the chance? I wasn’t even sure what the package was. I didn’t remember ordering anything recently, but you never knew what late night shopping I might have done and promptly forgotten about. Especially recently.
I brought the package into the kitchen and left it there. I wanted to get out of my clothes. Garrett and I didn’t have plans, which meant I was probably sleeping at my own house. That was mildly disappointing. I had a feeling we were heading toward a more permanent—and shared—living arrangement, but I didn’t want to just move myself in. And now that I knew he was in love with me and I was in love with him, I wasn’t worried about all that. We’d figure it out.
After changing into a set of silky pajamas—so comfortable—I debated whether hunger or fatigue was going to win. Flopping on the couch for a while sounded nice, but I was discovering that if I went too long without eating, I got a bit nauseated. I headed for the kitchen to throw together a small dinner.
I thought about Garrett and Owen while I browned some ground beef and added a jar of sauce, imagining what it would be like to be making dinner for the three of us—eventually four. It gave me a little burst of happiness, a bounce in my step despite my tired feet. Maybe Garrett would be prepping steaks while Owen chopped vegetables and laid them out on a pan. I’d be putting the finishing touches on dessert—that was my specialty, after all—and we’d wind up eating it first, just for fun.
Tears stung my eyes, but not tears of sadness, stress, or confusion. They were tears of possibility. Of the joy of a new season of life that I’d never even thought to wish for. Who would have guessed I’d fall for a man with a teenage son? That I’d wind up pregnant with his baby and be dancing around my kitchen, daydreaming about making us into a family.
I did a twirl and managed to stub my toe on the bottom of the refrigerator door.
“Ouch!”
My toe throbbed as I limped over to a stool and sat. How had I managed to kick the refrigerator door? Who did that?
Dang bad luck curse.
My hand strayed to my still-flat belly. Despite the copious amount of pregnancy tests I’d taken—and confirmation by my new doctor that all was well—it was hard to believe there really was a baby in there. Other than being tired, and the need-to-eat-or-get-nauseated-thing, I didn’t feel much of anything. I’d read that was normal, but I was starting to look forward to the growing belly, the flutters and kicks, all the things that would make this baby’s presence known.
Garrett’s parents.
Why they flew into my head at that particular moment, I had no idea. I hadn’t met them yet. But that was the point—I was having a baby with their son, and we’d never even met.
What were they going to think of me? Would they like me? Accept me? Would they hate me for getting knocked up? Did they want me around their grandson?
Okay, so maybe fatigue and mild nausea weren’t the only pregnancy symptoms I was experiencing. That wasn’t the first time my mood had flipped like a light switch. Dancing in the kitchen in a blissful daydream one moment, panicking about meeting my baby’s grandparents the next. Hormones were wild.
I got up to stir my meat sauce without the spaghetti. What can I say, it sounded good. It needed to simmer for a few more minutes, so I grabbed the package and a pair of scissors to slice open the packing tape.
It was a small box, maybe nine by six inches or so. The label had my name and address, but there wasn’t a return address at all. Where had this come from? Usually things I bought online had some indication on the box as to what store they were from.
Weird.
I slid the scissors through the tape and opened the box. It was filled with crumpled brown packing paper. I took it out and set it aside.
At the bottom was a pair of beige underwear.
Wrinkling my nose, I pinched a bit of the waistband to pick them up. They were sort of crumpled, as if they’d been wadded up and tossed in the box. That was so weird. It was just one pair, and although they didn’t look dirty, they weren’t in any sort of packaging.
What was weirder, they looked exactly like my underwear.
Same brand, same style, same size. I even had some in that color.
The scent of burning food wafted through the kitchen.
“Sugar cookies,” I spat out.
My dinner was quickly getting overcooked. I dropped the underwear back in the box and hurried to the stove. Of course I’d been distracted enough to ruin my dinner.
Just my luck.
I turned off the stove and moved the pan from the burner, eying the package with suspicion. It was creeping me out. Why had someone sent me an unmarked box with a wadded-up pair of underwear?
They weren’t sexy. In fact, they were so dangerously close to granny panties as to be embarrassing. If Garrett wanted to send me a pair of underwear, he wouldn’t have picked those.
But why did they look so much like mine?
Wait. Were they mine?
Obviously, that was impossible. It wasn’t like I’d ever left a pair of panties somewhere and a well-meaning townsperson had sent them back to me. And I was the first to admit I was superstitious, but that didn’t extend to the belief that a pair of underwear could magically transport itself from my drawer and mail itself to me.
But the likeliest alternative was unthinkable.
Had someone been in my house?
My heart rate picked up as I walked to my bedroom. Nothing seemed amiss. There were a few items in my laundry hamper, including underwear. I opened the top drawer of my dresser and rifled through my bras and underwear.
Was anything missing?
I couldn’t tell. There were a few other pairs of the same beige granny panties, but I didn’t remember how many I had. Was it four? Or had it been five? Six? I had no idea.
Panic rose and my chest felt tight as I backed out of my room. Were those mine? Had someone broken into my house and stolen them? Why? And why send them back?
I was so not okay.
Hurrying back to the kitchen, I found my phone. I had the presence of mind to take a few deep breaths before calling Garrett. I didn’t want to sound freaked out, especially if it turned out to be nothing. After all, I was super hormonal. Maybe this was just my imagination running away with me.
“Tiny one, are all these wild hormones messing with my brain?” I asked, looking down at my belly.
Talking to a baby that was probably the size of a pea? I was definitely not okay.
My hands still trembled as I brought up his number and hit send.
“Hi,” he said, and just the sound of his voice took my panic down a notch.
“Hey. Are you at work?”
“Yeah, I’m leaving soon. Are you okay? You sound upset.”
“No, no, I’m fine. A little hormonal is all. But do you think you could come over? ”
“Absolutely. I miss you.”
Oh my heart. “I miss you too.”
“I’ll be there in a bit.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
While I waited, I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen and nibbled on some cheese so my stomach wouldn’t hurt. I didn’t touch the box—just left it sitting on the counter. There had to be a rational explanation. I just wasn’t thinking of it.
I heard his car pull up outside and went to answer the door before he had a chance to knock. He was still in uniform, looking deliciously strong and protective. The way he swiped his aviators off his face and smiled made my insides melt.
Despite the disturbing package on my kitchen counter, I couldn’t help but smile as he drew me against him and covered my mouth with his. The gentle pressure of his lips and the brush of his tongue sent a wave of desire flooding through me.
No wonder we were having a baby.
With my hands on his chest, I pulled away, trying to unscramble my brain as he shut the door behind him.
“It’s so good to see you,” I breathed.
“You too.”
He moved closer again, and as much as I wanted him to devour me, I shifted back a little. “I got a weird package today. Can you look at it?”
His brow furrowed with concern. And why was that expression so sexy?
“Where is it?”
“In the kitchen.”
I recognized the change in his demeanor as he went from Garrett my boyfriend to Garrett the cop. “Where was it when you found it?”
“It was by the front door when I got home.”
“Show me.”
I led him into the kitchen and pointed to it. “There. ”
He reached into a pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves, then began examining the box.
“No return address and no postage. Someone dropped this off.”
That was disturbing. I hadn’t even noticed the lack of postage.
He pinched the pair of underwear between his thumb and forefinger to pick them up. “This was all that was inside?”
“That and the packing material.”
“Do you recognize them?”
“Um…” I so didn’t want to admit I had underwear that looked like that. But lying about it to save myself from embarrassment wasn’t going to help. “I have some just like them.”
His gaze swung to mine and although his expression didn’t change, there was an intensity in his eyes. “These are like the ones you have, or they’re actually yours?”
“I don’t know. I checked my drawer, but I don’t remember how many pairs I have to know whether one is missing.”
He pinched the waistband with his other hand, holding them up so the shape was visible in all its frumpy glory. “But these are the same? Brand, size, color, everything?”
“Yes. Can we maybe not analyze my embarrassing undergarments this closely? I know we’re having a baby, but I don’t think I’m ready for you to know about my ugly granny panties.”
He dropped them in the box. “Let’s check your bedroom.”
I let him go first and he moved slowly, looking around like he was taking in every detail. He paused next to my dresser.
“Which drawer?”
“Top one.”
“Is it okay if I look?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
He opened my top drawer and I only died inside a little bit as he quickly found every pair of beige granny panties I owned .
“Five. Are there any in your hamper or the laundry?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Could this have been a pack of six? Or two packs of three?”
“I honestly don’t remember. But even if the ones in the box aren’t mine, how did someone know I wear those? You’re the only one in this town who’s taken off my panties, and I certainly wasn’t wearing those.” I lowered my voice and muttered, “Thank goodness.”
“And you’re not wearing a pair like these now?”
“No,” I said, as if I were shocked and insulted. Which was so dumb. Obviously I owned them. It wouldn’t have been a leap to find that I wore them sometimes.
He put the underwear back in the drawer and closed it. “Have you accidentally left a door unlocked or come home to find anything out of place?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Have you noticed anything unusual? Maybe something on the floor and you didn’t know how it got there or something moved from where it should have been?”
“Nothing I can remember.”
He put his hands on his hips and let out a frustrated breath. “Damn it.”
“What?”
“I’m concerned someone was in your house. Do you remember where you bought the underwear? Could you look it up to see if you should have five pairs or six?”
“We’re getting very detailed.”
“Love, it’s my job.”
Oh my goodness, he’d just called me love. My insides melted into a swirly puddle of sugary happiness.
“Okay. Of course I’ll look it up.”
We went back to the kitchen and I grabbed my phone. I searched my email for the underwear brand and sure enough, the order was still there .
It had been a pack of six. And we found five in my drawer.
Garrett asked if he could look again to confirm. We searched my bedroom top to bottom. Every drawer, all through my closet, even in the bathroom. He checked the laundry room to make sure they weren’t there, even moving the washer and dryer to look behind them.
Nothing. No more granny panties.
We went back to the kitchen and he took off the gloves. “You should come to my place.”
I wasn’t about to argue—any excuse to stay at his place—but I wasn’t sure what was going on. “Why?”
“Someone might have broken into your house.” He gestured to the box. “And whoever did it, wants you to know. You can’t stay here.”
It felt as if all the color drained from my face and the awful sense of violation made my stomach churn. I put a hand over my mouth.
Garrett pulled me against him and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I swear.”
I nodded against his chest. I didn’t understand what was going on or why, but I knew Garrett would keep me safe.