Chapter 20
20
brODY
T he next day, we step onto the front porch, and I close and lock the cabin door behind us. Harper stands close beside me, her presence comfortable, yet it’s charged with something new and exciting. Even the slightest glance from her sends warmth rushing through me.
“Ready for this?” I ask, twirling the keys to the Charger around my finger.
“It feels weird, being dressed and going out,” she admits as the sunlight catches in her golden-brown hair, pulled up into a messy ponytail. “But I’m ready. Can’t stay hidden in the cabin forever.”
I link my pinkie with hers, making my heart beat a little faster each time I test these new boundaries. She fully laces our fingers together and squeezes in response. It feels natural, right, like this has been a long time coming.
I open the door for her, and she slides in. Our eyes meet as I walk around the front of the car, then slide in behind the steering wheel.
We buckle, and she turns to me.
“Out of everything in Easton’s garage, why did you choose this specific vehicle?”
I crank the engine, letting it roar, feeling the rumble and power under my fingers. I smirk. “You know exactly why.”
“Fucking around and finding out suits you,” she admits.
“This car should’ve been mine. Had I been five minutes earlier to bid on it,” I admit as I back out of the driveway, kicking up gravel.
Her head falls back with laughter. “Ah, so it’s personal too.”
“It always is with me,” I tell her as we head down the mountain, taking the switchbacks carefully.
Harper rolls down her window, closing her eyes and breathing in the fresh mountain air. I do the same, forcing myself to focus on the road instead of on her.
“This is true freedom,” she whispers dreamily as she stares at the winding road ahead, surrounded by tall trees.
She reaches for my hand again, and I give it to her. This closeness feels like something we both need, something that’s safe. Her thumb absently strokes my thumb, and it causes my body to hum with electricity. It’s strange how something so simple can be so meaningful. It’s like every touch we exchange holds a silent promise.
“What are our plans today?” She glances at me.
“Groceries and whatever else you want to do,” I offer her a reassuring smile.
She laughs. “I never thought something as simple as going to town could feel like an adventure.”
The warmth of her laughter stirs something deep inside me. “Every day is an adventure with you, Harp.”
Her cheeks heat as loose strands of her hair blow freely in the breeze. “Wait, are you getting soft on me?”
“Never.” I smirk, glancing sideways at her. “You just tend to bring out the best in me.”
“I like that option,” she says as sunlight streams across her face.
Being here with her like this feels like a dream, like something I’ve only imagined. Right now, it’s our reality.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.
“You’re breathtaking,” I whisper. “A masterpiece.”
She lifts my hands to her lips and presses a soft kiss on my knuckles. “You make me feel pretty.”
“You are.”
Everything between us feels so delicate and balanced. I glance down briefly at our joined hands and think about how we got here.
“What are we doing?” She turns to me, giving me her full attention.
I stare at the fluffy clouds overhead, thinking deeply about that question. “I don’t know.”
Her eyes narrow. “Okay, so if I wanted to put myself back out there when we returned to the city and I started dating other people, would th?—”
“Fuck no.” My brows furrow. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“That’s what I thought.” She snickers, amused with herself.
“You have no idea what watching you with that piece of shit did to me.”
I swallow hard, and her face softens.
“I can’t imagine,” she admits, knowing she’s never had to witness me with anyone.
My relationships have always stayed secret. It’s not that I’ve hidden them; it’s just easier without public scrutiny.
“Do you know why I gave him a chance?”
I shake my head.
“Because he acted like he saw me for who I was at my core. In reality, you’re the only man who ever has,” she admits so fucking freely.
“Harp,” I whisper, “I’m so fucking sorry he tricked you.”
“I’m not. While I want him to get what he deserves,” she says with confidence, “his actions made me see what was right in front of me all along, and I will forever be grateful for that.”
A chill runs over me. “You somehow always see the bright side.”
We park on Main Street, and I open the door for her. She steps out onto the sidewalk, wearing a cute pink dress that buttons in the front.
First on our list is getting her another cell phone so she can have contact with the outside world. We step inside the electronics store and buy the smartest phone they have, and the first thing Harper does is sync it to her cloud account.
As her pictures load, she lets out a sigh of relief. “I was so scared that I’d lost everything.”
She holds the device tightly in her grip as we leave.
At the end of the block is a small grocery store. I hook my pinkie with Harper’s, and we walk down the sidewalk toward it. At the front is a line of metal carts, and I grab one.
She waggles her brow at me as I push it around. “Hot.”
“Hush,” I tell her as she randomly eye-fucks me.
Every item that draws her attention, she plucks it off the shelf and tosses it inside the cart. She grabs junk food— snack cakes, bags of chips, popcorn, chocolate—as I mentally plan actual meals and get essentials.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m really just a kid with adult money,” she mutters, throwing in a massive bag of extra-cheddar crackers and Oreo cookies.
“As long as you still eat your fruits and veggies, I see no issue,” I tell her with a wink.
“Happy one of us is responsible.” She nudges me with her elbow.
Once the cart is full and we have enough for the week, we go to the front to check out. We don’t get too much because I know we’ll have to return to the city soon. While I want to stay in the cabin with Harper for an eternity, she won’t be able to stay hidden forever. Bellamore needs her, and the public has been highly concerned about her after Micah made it seem like she was a missing person. That will be solved soon though.
As I load everything on the conveyor belt, she snatches up different candy bars, and then her eyes widen. “Shit, I’ll be right back. I forgot one thing.”
A minute later, Harper returns with a box of tampons. “Just in case.”
She plops it down on the belt as our food is packed into the thermal grocery bags I picked up so we could spend more time in town if Harper wanted.
However, I’m leaving what we do for the rest of the day up to her. The last thing I want is for her to be overwhelmed. Being isolated can do that to a person.
My hands are full of the bags, and she tries to take some from me, but I shake my head at her. “I’ve got it.”
“So, I guess I’m just supposed to stand here and look pretty while the circulation gets cut off in your hands?”
“Exactly. And you’re doing a fucking great job.”
“Thanks,” she tells me. “I don’t remember the last time I shopped for food. I usually have it delivered to my penthouse.”
“Because you’re spoiled,” I say.
She gasps like she’s offended, then tucks her lips into her mouth because she knows she can’t deny it.
“And you deserve to be,” I add. “If you were mine?—”
“I can be yours. When you’re ready,” she says, and we both know right now that whatever this is going on between us, there are no labels.
I unlock the trunk, and we load the groceries inside.
I grab her hand, pulling her close to me. “You just got out of a shitty relationship, Harp,” I explain, giving her a sweet smile. “I can’t be your rebound.”
“Brody Calloway,” she tells me playfully, “I’ve had a crush on you since I was thirteen. You don’t fit the rebound mold. And not to mention, I’ve not been dicked down by you so how could you even considering it that?” She shrugs.
I shake my head, but I can’t help the laughter that spills out of me. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
“I can think of a few things,” she offers. “Actually, I can make a list.”
“Not. Helping.”
Harper glances at the cozy Sugar Pine Springs Diner, nestled between a boutique and an antique shop. “Oh, can we eat?”
“Whatever you want,” I tell her.
“Whatever I want?” she asks, playfully tucking her hands into her pockets and biting her lip.
I grab her hand, leading her down the sidewalk. “You’re making it very hard to be a gentleman.”
She waggles her brows, and her eyes slide from my lips down to my dick.
“Harp,” I whisper, trying to hold back a smile as we enter, but I fail.
A bell jingles overhead, and a younger woman instantly greets us. “Whoa. You’re like the perfect couple.”
“I agree,” Harper says, lifting her brow at me.
I playfully shake my head at her, but I like her pushing this. It shows me that she’s not just going with the flow. I’m her prize, and, fuck, I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t mine.
“How ’bout a booth for y’all?” the woman asks with a twang as she grabs two laminated menus that are front and back.
“Perfect,” Harper answers, and we’re led across the space.
The diner is packed with locals. No one is paying attention to us. While in Sugar Pine Springs, we’re invisible, just two regular people without pasts or family expectations or paparazzi.
Harper glances back at me, her smile bright. Without thinking about it, I remove the space between us, placing my hand on the small of her back.
She slides into a booth by the window, sunlight pooling across the tabletop, and instead of taking the seat across from her, I scoot in beside her.
She settles against me, and I wrap my arm around her. Whatever this is, it’s growing at a rate that neither of us can control.
The server walks up, and we quickly order coffee and water, then tell her to give us the breakfast special that has a little of everything—from sausage to hash browns to a stack of pancakes.
When we’re alone, Harper pulls her new phone from her dress pocket. I watch her, enjoying how loose strands of hair frame her pretty face and how she absently chews her lower lip as she scrolls. My gaze lingers, noticing small things, like how her long eyelashes sweep softly against her cheeks, how the corners of her mouth tug into a small, secretive smile.
Feeling my stare, she glances up, catching me. “See something interesting, Calloway?”
“ Very ,” I reply, holding her gaze a heartbeat longer. I lean slightly toward her, whispering in her ear, “Just wondering how long I can get away with staring before you call me out on it.”
A delicate color that matches her dress spreads across her skin. “Maybe I won’t say anything ever again then.”
“Because you like it.” I rub my fingers on the outside of her arm and watch goose bumps form. I’ve always done that to her.
“Maybe I do,” she whispers back, her eyes holding mine for longer than necessary.
The moment is filled with anticipation as I consider kissing her right here, and even though I want to, I don’t. Instead, I glance out the window, scanning the perimeter, making sure nothing is out of place.
I relax as I drink my coffee, and suddenly, Harper’s brows furrow. Her happiness is replaced by a scowl.
“Harp?” My voice lowers instinctively. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitates, biting her lip again, before slowly turning the phone toward me. I lean closer, seeing Billie’s Instagram post. It’s the photo of them together, and it’s hard to believe it was just a couple of days ago. I read the caption.
Don’t believe what you see. Harper is happy, safe, and let’s not forget to mention … single. She’s taking some much-needed personal time.
The comments are full of praise and congratulations, with people saying they hated Micah. He’s being called an obsessed liar, which is more truthful than any of them knows. While I know she doesn’t like this type of attention, seeing her supporters stepping up to bat for her is good for her. Even so, I sense her rising unease and feel the subtle stiffening of her shoulders as her jaw tightens. Harper has always dealt with anxiety, and it’s something I instantly recognize. I always have.
I lean close and whisper into her hair, “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
She types in Micah’s profile, and the past few pictures that he posted are of the two of them together. My fist clenches, and so does my jaw. She clicks on the photo, and below it is nothing but people telling Micah he’s a piece of shit.
“Hey,” I say, clicking the button on the side of her phone. “You don’t have to go down that rabbit hole right now, okay?”
She nods as she sets her phone down. “You’re right. Seeing his face made it feel real. I hate this so much.” Her voice is full of hurt.
“Hey.” My voice drops, and I give her my full attention. “The world will eventually know the truth about him.”
“I hope it sets me free, Brody. I’m scared I’ll always be a prisoner to Micah.” Harper takes a slow breath, leaning into my shoulder, eyes fixed thoughtfully on her coffee cup. “Each reminder forces me to relive it again and again. I think he would’ve killed me.”
My nostrils flare at the thought, and I have no doubt he would’ve severely hurt her when he got the first chance. Especially considering the state I found her in that night I took her from that fucking prison of a home.
I give her a soft smile and turn my body toward her, where I’m almost facing her. “You know what brings me an immense amount of joy?”
She finally lifts her gaze, meeting mine. “What?”
“Revenge.”
We stare at each other, and a sly grin slides over her perfect lips.
“Every time your subconscious brings his beady fucking eyes to the forefront, know that justice will be served on a silver platter. I promise,” I say. “He fucked with the wrong ones this time.”
“Please,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Don’t fight this battle.”
“We’re past that, Harp. This is war,” I admit. “I owe him for Billie. And for you. He’s hurt people I care deeply about, and no one gets a free pass when it comes to that. Do you understand?”
She sighs. “If I asked you not to, would you?”
“I’m sorry, but no. You and Billie deserve peace. The only way you will ever get that is if Micah is behind bars or dead. His choice, I guess.”
“I want you to be safe. I can’t lose you.” She lifts her coffee cup to her mouth and drinks.
“You won’t. This is almost over. I promise,” I tell her, knowing that the boys are doing everything they can to uncover all of Micah’s lies.
Easton, Weston, Asher, and Nick are the most intelligent humans in the world, with connections that run parallel to mine. Nick is a man no one should mess with, a man many underestimate, but he is a secret weapon.
Our food is delivered, and our table is full of different plates.
As we eat, I glance out the window and notice dark clouds rolling in, blotting out the sun as Harper finishes her coffee. She glances outside, her brow creasing slightly as a low rumble of thunder vibrates through the glass.
“Looks like the storm caught up to us,” she says. “It always does.”
Her words are more ominous than I’d like.
Harper grabs the syrup and covers her stack of pancakes with it. She cuts into them and takes a bite, and her eyes light up.
“How are they?” I ask.
She swallows down the bite. “Yours are better.”
Laughter escapes me. “Don’t flatter me.”
“Whatever, pancake king. It’s the truth.”
We eat until it’s hard to breathe, and as I hand our server my card, the rain begins to pour outside, coating the large windows in streaks of water.
We stand, and I grab her hand and lead her to the front. “Stay here. I’ll grab an umbrella.”
“Okay,” she tells me, eyes shining just for me.
Fuck, I want to kiss her again, but I hold off. I step outside.
The first drops of cool rain pound against me. It quickly turns to sheets, pouring relentlessly down. By the time I reach the Charger, my shirt is plastered against my chest, soaked through. Shaking the water from my face, I retrieve the umbrella tucked beneath the seat, pop it open, and hurry back toward the diner entrance.
Harper stands just inside the doorway, arms folded across her chest as she watches me approach, her lips curled into a gentle, amused smile. I hold the umbrella up as she steps out, carefully keeping it over her.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, laughter coloring her voice as she leans into my side.
“I don’t mind,” I answer, meeting her gaze, suddenly aware of how close we’re standing beneath the small canopy of the umbrella. “Besides, I couldn’t let you get wet.”
“I’ll keep my comments to myself,” she says, biting her lip as she turns to me.
She tilts her face upward, her eyes softening, searching mine as rain pounds steadily against the fabric overhead, creating a private cocoon that isolates us from the world. Her hand slips into mine, intertwining our fingers naturally, pulling me even closer, leaving me breathless.
Slowly, inevitably, the distance between us vanishes. My heartbeat quickens. With awareness building into something raw and undeniable, I lift my free hand to cup her cheek, my thumb brushing lightly across her rain-speckled skin. Her breath hitches at my touch, her lips parting in anticipation.
Without hesitation, our mouths finally meet—soft, warm, tentative at first. But as she melts into me, the kiss deepens naturally, her soft sigh drawing me further into her. Harper’s hand clutches my soaked shirt, pulling me closer, as if needing more—more of me, more of us, more of whatever this is we’ve found together in the storm.
The rain continues to pour, splashing onto the pavement around us, but beneath this small umbrella, all I feel is her warmth pressed firmly against me, her lips parting beneath mine, our bodies fitting perfectly together. Every wall I’ve built around myself crumbles under her kiss and the urgency in how she clings to me.
We finally pull back, foreheads resting together, our breaths mixing unevenly as I stroke her cheek with my thumb, eyes locked on hers.
“Brody,” she whispers, voice soft and awed, barely audible above the rain.
The world tilts on its axis.
“I’m falling for you,” she confesses as I brush a strand of hair from her face.
“I’m here to catch you,” I say with a smile.
For another lingering moment, we stand wrapped together beneath the steady downpour, unwilling to let go. Nothing else exists beyond the safety of the umbrella, beyond the woman pressed warmly against me.
Finally, taking her hand, I lead Harper toward the car, my heart beating heavily, fully aware there’s no turning back from this.