8. Harvey
Chapter 8
Harvey
“ I said I enjoy baking , not cooking. Two very different things.”
“What’s the difference?” My knife pauses slicing through an onion.
“Baking is chemistry—science—something I’m good at whereas cooking is skill and I don’t have that skill.” Aspen pushes the garlic around the pan as it sautés. I watch her assess what she’s doing, her frilly pink apron with ruffles and large plastic floral buttons bringing back the color to her face. She’s even loosened her braid, her hair now hanging in waves over one shoulder.
“A skill developed through practice,” I remind her.
“Yeah, but it’s rooted in creativity and that is not my strong suit.”
“I find it hard to believe you’re not good at everything.” She turns and looks at me as I tip the cutting board and slide the onions into the pan to join the garlic. “Two to three minutes on these, just till translucent.”
“School came naturally to me, especially anything to do with numbers or statistics or logic or patterns, but I’ve struggled in other areas.” She pauses briefly, lost in thought maybe, but then she perks back up. “I actually used Excel when I was a kid to categorize all of my stuffed animals so I could keep track of which ones I slept with on which nights. It gave me too much anxiety to think about some of them feeling left out.”
“Fuck, that’s cute.” I reach around her to grab the strip steak, my body lightly brushing against hers.
“My friends didn’t think so.” She giggles. “I told one of my friends actually, Brielle Wiederman. She called me a weirdo and didn’t want to come over anymore after that.” I place the steak into the pan and allow it to sear while she chops up a tomato she found in her refrigerator along with some cilantro and smash an avocado.
“Does your family live around here?” I notice the knife in her hand pause before slicing into the last bit of tomato.
“No. I was raised by a single mom and she passed away about seven years ago so it’s just me.”
“I guess we have that in common—no dad around.” She gives me a sympathetic smile, one that tells me she knows exactly the pain and emotion that comes with a situation like ours.
“And your mom?”
“Also passed.” I juice a lime and add some jalape?os and sea salt to the avocado. “We were close though—she sacrificed a lot to raise me alone.”
Neither of us ask any more questions and I can’t help but wonder if it’s for the same reason. A wound that’s still too fresh, peppered with guilt of all the things I could have done better… or maybe she doesn’t bear the burden of regret like I do.
“This looks… kind of pathetic. I should have offered to order in.” She flashes me an apologetic smile as we both look down at our dinner. It’s not much, just a few simple steak tacos based on the very minimal ingredients she had available.
“Nah, this looks perfect.” I reach over and pull out the barstool next to her.
“Oh, thank you,” she says unexpectedly.
“Not used to a man pulling the seat out for you?” She shakes her head no. “That’s disappointing. You deserve to be treated better.” She shrugs slightly, turning her attention back to her food. “Hey.” My hand is beneath her chin in an instant, pulling her gaze back to me. “I’m serious. You shouldn’t be with a man who won’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
“I’m not sure I’ve met that guy.” She doesn’t say it to ask for pity; it’s barely loud enough for me to hear.
“You have now.” I don’t break eye contact with her. There’s a shift happening between us, like that charged feeling of static energy hanging in the air right before a tornado. “I know that we’re only pretending I’m your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean I can’t show you how a man should treat you. Even as your friend.”
“Okay.” It’s that breathy, whispered answer again.
My stomach growls, reminding me of the dinner that’s getting cold in front of me, but all I can focus on is her. Her eyes pull me in, the depth of their color mesmerizing. I reach my thumb up and swipe it over her bottom lip just as her tongue darts out to wet it. It’s an accident, clearly by the way her eyes bulge when she makes contact with the tip of my thumb. The spark resonates through my finger, shooting up my arm and straight down to my cock.
“All I care about is keeping you safe.” The tension grows thicker and I know that I’m tiptoeing all over the line but I can’t seem to pull myself back from it.
“Why?” Her eyes are locked on mine, her chest beginning to rise and fall at a more rapid rate. “You don’t even know me.”
“I want to.”
“Dinners getting cold.”
“I’m not hungry anymore.” I can’t move away from her and yet I know I can’t close the distance between us either. “At least not for food.”
She lets out a tiny gasp and I’m out of my seat and pulling her stool back just far enough so I can grab her around the waist. I push our plates to the side before lifting her and placing her on the counter. Her hands are on my shoulders, her thighs spread on either side of my body as I lean in. My head falls slightly forward, my hands still on her waist.
“I-I’m sorry.” I step back, shaking my head and putting some distance between us. “I shouldn’t have done that.” I don’t look at her again or wait for a response. I grab my phone and keys and walk toward her front door. “Lock this behind me.”
I slam my own door, tossing my shit on the table by the door and heading straight to the shower. I strip off my shirt, turning the water on to warm up. I stare at myself in the mirror, looking at the way tattoos wind their way around my arm and neck. I trace one, the way Aspen did that night. I pause, feeling the spot where a bullet went through my arm. Just to the right of it is a knife wound that almost caused permanent nerve damage. And that’s just the beginning. Beneath these tattoos lie a trail of scars and wounds that tell a story I’ll never be able to share with anyone.
My eyes squeeze shut so tight as I remember the horrors of that night. For all of the shit I went through in my time in the military, nothing compared to the look on my mother’s face as her life slipped through my fingers.
“I-I-I love you.”
Her blood-soaked fingers reach out toward my face but she can’t reach me. Her eyes blink one more time as her hand slowly falls back down and her head lulls to the side. A sound rings through my ears, one I don’t recognize. It’s only when the searing pain of the bullet that rips through my arm rages through me that I realize the sound is coming from me. It doesn’t sound human. It sounds haunted and painful.
My eyes fly open and I suck in a deep breath, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror.
“She isn’t your redemption.” I say the words over and over to myself as I step into the shower and pray the water washes away this agony.
I’ll never forgive myself for not being there for my mother. For not protecting her from the man I thought loved her and me most… my father. But no matter what, I can’t change it. And no matter how much I want it to be true, saving Aspen Wilder won’t undo the past.
“If I had to make a bet”—Alex rests his hands on the top of his head, leaning back in his chair—“I’d say that Jules goes early. No way she’s going to make it eight more weeks.”
“I’ll take that bet.” Luka pulls out his wallet. “Five to one odds. Twenty bucks says she goes at least two days past her due date.”
“Twenty bucks? What are we, in junior high? Make it one hundred bucks.”
“Done.” Luka pulls out a stack of cash and tosses it onto Alex’s desk. “And just so you know, around fifty percent of all first-time births go past full-term. Harper went four days over.”
Alex’s face falls. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to know that? The doctor’s been saying her due date. He said she could go early but nothing about going over.”
Luka laughs. “Live and learn, buddy. Also, another thing they might not have told you. Because of hormones and stuff that is in fecal matter, you’ll have to be the only one changing the baby for the first six months.” Alex’s face goes from confusion to shock in an instant, making all three of us bust out laughing.
“Come on, man.” I laugh. “You can’t possibly believe that. Even I know that’s bullshit.”
“I’ve read all the books!” Alex says defensively. “I swear I’m not an idiot!”
“Relax, buddy,” Luka reassures him. “You’ll be fine, trust me. If I can figure it out, so can you. Reading the books is great but it’s still not going to give you the answers for everything.”
“Yeah, especially considering Luka thought knocking up my sister behind my back was a great way to start fatherhood.” Jimmy joins the conversation, flashing Luka a look that I’m sure reminds him when Jimmy lunged across the room, ready to rip his head off when he found out.
“Hey, I think it turned out okay. Besides, don’t act like having me as a brother-in-law hasn’t been the addition to your life you didn’t realize you needed.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay, listen up, guys.” Jimmy sits on the edge of his desk. “Luka and Alex, we’re going to need your help on this Outside Media contract for Connor Blake. I know you both went over the dossier earlier, but I wanted to fill you in on some things. After our conversation yesterday with Mr. Blake, Harvey put a plan in place.” Jimmy nods toward me and I hand all three of the guys the tactical guide for this case.
“Mr. Blake doesn’t like the idea of a shadow. He doesn’t want someone tailing him twenty-four seven, so that’s not what we’re going to do here.”
“So he’s scared enough about threats on his life but he doesn’t want us around?” Luka flips through the guide. “That seems a little idiotic, don’t we think?”
“Not for this case.” I glance over at Jimmy. After our meeting yesterday, we discussed our thoughts on it once we got back to the office. We agreed that something feels off with this case. Almost like he wants to hire protection but only for show. I reach for my tablet and hit a button so the slides reflect on the overhead projector. “The threats he has received are pretty minimal as you can see.”
The images of the threatening note, complete with magazine clipped letters takes up the screen.
IF I WERE YOU, I’D BE VERY CAREFUL WHO YOU TRUST WHEN YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES AT NIGHT.
“This can’t be real?” Alex laughs, looking back at me. “It looks like something out of a CSI episode.”
“This is the video of the supposed intruder outside of his house. You can see that they’re wearing a hoodie, wig, and glasses to disguise themselves which is why he brought it to our attention. Clearly, this person isn’t just lost outside his house or trying to leave religious pamphlets. They’re in a disguise, with gloves.”
“Again.” Alex laughs. “It just looks fake, like a setup.”
“Jimmy and I feel the same way,” I agree.
“Then what are we doing wasting our time?” Luka glances between us.
“Easy money,” Jimmy says with a broad smile. “Surely you guys won’t argue with that.”
“’Nuff said,” Alex concurs and Luka agrees.
I glance down at my watch, making sure I still have enough time to pick up Aspen for lunch. We didn’t talk about it, that I’d be meeting her today, but that’s my fault. I let things get out of hand last night and thought with my dick.
“By the way, guys,” Jimmy says, stopping Luka and Alex before they head out. “Blaire’s been morning sickness free the last few days so if the doctor clears her by Friday, she’s insisting everyone come over for one last get-together before the babies get here.”
“We’ll be there,” Luka says.
“Same,” Alex agrees.
Once both of them walk away, I turn to Jimmy.
“So what’s the deal with this case? You keep saying easy money but we both know none of us are hurting. What’s going on?”
Jimmy slides his hands into his pockets, his eyes focusing on the floor in front of him. It’s his thinking pose. I always know he’s about to tell me something serious when he gets in this position.
“I don’t know,” he finally replies, looking up at me, his head cocked slightly. “From the second we stepped into that office, we both knew there was something about that guy that wasn’t right. I know you felt it. So I figure, why not take the case, see what this bastard is really up to, because if I had to guess, he’s trying to use us as a distraction from what’s really going on.”
“Glad I’m not the only one.” I glance down. It’s just after eleven fifteen now and I need to make it across town within the next thirty minutes so I can get to Aspen before she leaves the building. “Got an appointment,” I say. “I’ll be back later.”
I rush out of the building and slide into the driver’s seat of my 1970 Chevelle SS, the custom big block V8 LS6 engine roaring to life. This car was my lifesaver, the only thing that I focused on and poured myself into after my mom died. I saved every penny I made to buy this car when it was nothing but a broke-down POS in someone’s backyard. Then I spent the next four years of my life rebuilding it.
When I ride the elevator to her floor after parking in the garage, I assess my reflection. My hair is pulled back today, my usual uniform of black jeans and a black t-shirt looking the same as it does every day. I run my hands over my beard, smoothing any flyaways just before the doors slide open. I’m about to step out when I come face-to-face with Connor. I glance up at the floor indicator, realizing he must have called it before I hit the button for the fourteenth floor.
“Well, well, if it isn’t The Hulk.” He attempts to give my arm a playful squeeze but his hands can barely grasp it. “Some of us have muscles; some of us have money.” His laugh is grating. “Are you here for me?” he finally says when I don’t smile, laugh, or even respond. “Natalie must have missed it on the schedule.” He rolls his eyes. “Women. Anyway, I’m about to head out to lunch, why don’t you join me? My treat, of course.” He adds the last part as if he’s being courteous, when in reality, it’s just another way for him to try and gain the upper hand.
“I’m not here for you actually. I’m picking up my girlfriend for lunch.”
He laughs. “Your girlfriend works for me? What a small world. What’s her name?”
“Aspen Wilder.” I watch the smile on his face melt away, his skin going ghost-white before turning red.
Exactly the response I expected.
“Not familiar,” he says nonchalantly, adjusting his collar as he looks at his reflection in the door. “Hard to know everyone when you run a company this big, though.”
“Makes sense.” The ding signifies I’m on my floor and just before the doors slide open, I turn back to him with my hand extended. “Great seeing you, Connor.”
His eye twitches, his face growing more red as he plasters on a fake smile and attempts to squeeze the life out of my hand.
“My pleasure, Harry.”
Then the door closes between us just before he sees my smile.
“I feel like I owe you tacos. Good ones.” Aspen stands a few inches from me in the elevator. I glance down at her in my peripheral vision, a nervous chuckle following her comment.
I’m not sure what to say about last night. I’d hoped things would be left unsaid, but I guess that’s a pretty ridiculous expectation considering I tossed her on top of her counter like I was about to eat her for dinner.
That’s exactly what I was about to do to her last night.
My mouth waters at the thought and my hand squeezes my wrist, trying to bring myself back down to reality.
“Nah, if anything, that’s on me.” I lead her toward my car, opening her door for her.
“Wow.” She runs her hands over the smooth leather of the seat. “This is such a cool car. I’ve never been in one like this.”
“An antique?”
She shakes her head. “A hot rod.” She smiles when she says it, her teeth slowly sinking into her bottom lip as she takes it all in.
“You like it?” She nods enthusiastically. “Maybe I’ll let you take her out sometime.”
“Me? Drive this car? No way. I’d wreck it for sure. I don’t even have a car anymore. I actually sold it a few years ago and haven’t driven since. But this is exactly the kind of car I’d expect you to drive.”
“What’s that mean?” I give her a playful smirk.
“Big guy who only wears black, big black car, loud, intimidating engine.” She holds up her fingers as she lists each thing. “Should I go on?”
“What did you drive?”
“Guess.” She’s staring over at me, her bright-green shirt tucked neatly into a matching skirt with pink flowers and matching green leaves. Her hair is half-down today, allowing for her pink flower earrings to stand out.
“A Volkswagen Beetle.” Her mouth falls open. “Daisy yellow.”
“You—how? I sold it before you met me.”
I pull the car down a side road that’s in an industrial area, parking in a lot near what looks like an abandoned warehouse. I point toward a food truck parked across the street where several construction workers are lined up.
“This is the best damn taco you’re ever going to eat.”
“You didn’t tell me how you knew what kind of car I drove. It’s a little creepy,” she says as we stand in line.
“If I tell you, you can’t get mad.” She gives me an adorable little scowl and it reminds me of when a kitten is learning to attack. Any attempt at being scary or intimidating is overshadowed with how fucking cute she is.
We reach the counter, placing our order and grabbing a few napkins. When the tacos are done, we walk back over to the car. I place the food on the hood, turning to face her. I slide my hands around her waist again, memories of last night rushing back. This time, I set her gently on the hood and step back before handing her a plate of food.
“It was an educated guess,” I say, referring to the car comment. “Based on the way you dress, your home, how you present yourself.” She doesn’t say anything. “The bright colors and flowers, everything about you is sweet and cute. To be fair, I did change the color at the last minute. I was gonna go with green because of your shirt.”
“Oh.” I glance back to look at her, an unfamiliar look on her face. “I didn’t know you noticed those things.”
I nod, finishing off my second taco. “I’m trained to notice everything, Aspen. I’m not even sure I can help it.”
We finish our tacos in silence. I’m not sure why I said the last part. It’s the truth but it’s more than that. I don’t have a reason to notice things about her. She’s not a threat and never has been.
“I like those things—about you.”
“You do?”
I grab our plates and used napkins, tossing them in a trash can a few steps away.
“Yeah. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice a change lately.” Her eyes shift away as she brushes a few stray crumbs from her lap. “But today”—I reach one hand out, touching the silky material of her skirt—“you look more like yourself.”
“I should head back soon.”
We climb into the car, driving back toward her office. As we pull closer, I see Connor standing on the steps of the building along with two other men. Instead of pulling into the garage, I pull the wheel to the right, stopping right in front of her building. It’s not until I open her door and she steps out that she sees him. She freezes, her hand in mine.
“He knows,” I say, closing the door behind her.
“He does? How?” I didn’t tell her about running into him in the elevator earlier. I actually didn’t even have a plan when I went to pick her up, but running into him like that was like divine intervention.
She looks up at me and I swear there’s fear in her eyes. I want to demand she tell me what he’s done or said to her to make her scared of him, but I know that’s useless. I want her to tell me on her own time, when she wants to tell me. I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know that Connor’s eyes are fixated on us.
“You know what.” I step closer to her, reaching one hand out to slide up her chest and around her throat, pulling her toward me. “Why don’t we show him.”
My lips are on hers, my body towering over her as I walk her backward, pinning her to the car. My hand grips her throat, just enough to send a message—she’s mine.
I nip at her lips, biting her bottom one before swirling my tongue around hers. She hungrily kisses me back. I push it, taking her mouth until I’m within seconds of losing control of my body.
This isn’t gentle or timid. I’m marking my territory. Claiming her. When I pull back, my hands are tangled in her hair, her lips swollen and red. I lean in one more time, kissing her softly. She sways a little on her feet when I finally step back.
“You okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nods her head, still in a daze.
Bumping the tip of her chin with my finger so she’s looking up at me, I take in her expression, my cock telling me what I already know.
“That’s the look I’m going for.”
“What look?” Her eyelids flutter slowly.
My hands reach out to rest on her shoulders before I spin her to face the building. My hands slide down her arms slowly as I lean my lips down to her ear, planting a featherlight kiss against her neck.
“Lust.”