Chapter Thirteen
He picked up the wine and the box containing the bonsai, making a conscious decision to leave his overnight bag in the car. If he were a betting man, he’d put money on needing it, but he didn’t want to freak Harper out with his presumptuousness.
He cast a quick glance up to the open windows of her apartment when he reached the front of the building. He was about to press the buzzer when a tall meathead opened the door.
“What’s it to do with you?”
“I take care of the girls in my building. That’s what it’s to do with me, friend.”
Trent inwardly smiled with relief, but wasn’t going to show Godzilla that. Someone looking out for Harper was a good thing.
“I’m here for Harper. You gonna let me in or should I buzz her?” He didn’t like being at this kind of disadvantage with his hands full.
“You the guy who sent the roses the other day?”
“Yeah, unless some other guy is sending her flowers. Why?”
Godzilla’s face relaxed. “I offered to do my big brother speech on you, but she seemed to think you didn’t need it. Eddie,” he said, reaching out his hand.
“Trent,” he responded, shaking Eddie’s hand briefly but firmly. “Nice to know you got her back, man.”
“I live above her. Can hear her if she shouts.”
“Pleasant thought.” He’d have to remember to ask Harper about Eddie later.
“Yeah, well, I’ll have your ass if you do anything to upset that girl. Consider yourself warned.”
Eddie left the building and let the door slam shut, an audible period on their conversation. Trent turned toward the stairs, noting the aging building was clean, but in need of some maintenance.
He found apartment number eight, and knocked on the door.
“Met your neighbor,” he told Harper when she let him in. “The one who thinks he’s intimidating.”
“Were you?” She kissed him and then quickly led him to the kitchen, where a buzzer was going off. “Intimidated, I mean.”
“I don’t let people intimidate me,” he said, inhaling the rich scent of food cooking. “Now ovens, on the other hand…”
She laughed and pulled a tray of hors d’oeuvres out of the oven and placed it on a rack to cool.
Anything that took more than one pot or a microwave tended to give him nightmares. But Harper seemed to be in her element.
“These look delicious.” He grabbed one, blowing on it as he passed it from hand to hand to cool it down.
“It’s just flaky pastry with mushrooms.”
He popped it in his mouth and winced, quickly reaching for a beer.
“Hot,” he mumbled.
Harper laughed and passed him a glass of ice water.
“Want to kiss it better for me?” he asked, poking out his tongue.
“Eew, no.” He grinned at Harper’s reaction, her nose all scrunched up.
He offered to help but Harper had been adamant about him sitting and relaxing in front of the TV.
That he couldn’t do, not when Harper was bending over left, right, and center in the kitchen in that cute little dress.
So he hopped up on the little stool under the breakfast bar to keep her company.
The little bonsai sat on the counter next to him, the look on Harper’s face when he had given it to her worth the long drive down to Marathon.
Sitting next to it was what looked like a graded high school paper. Just looking at it made him shudder. The day he’d kicked the sand of school off his shoes had been one of the best in his life.
“What’s this?”
Harper looked up from the dish she was rinsing in the sink. Seeing the paper in his hand, her face lit up like a firecracker. “It’s Joanie’s last assignment. She’s the one trying to get her diploma. She got an A minus.”
It was written all over her face, the joy she got out of teaching, and he wondered when she would actually come clean and confirm what he’d already guessed.
“Is she passing yet?”
“Not yet, but I know she’s going to do great,” Harper said, going back to cleaning the dish. He wanted to push. Ask her more. But tonight wasn’t the night.
Though her apartment was a little on the small side, she’d done a great job of decorating the place.
It felt homey. Like someone actually lived a life here.
Would she ever go back to where she came from?
The thought kicked him in the gut. Where was home for her anyway?
The other night, she’d mentioned getting on a bus.
He was desperate to know more about her.
Harper walked around from the kitchen and stood before him, the gray-and-black-striped jersey summer dress showing off her curves perfectly.
“We have a few minutes before I can plate up our appetizers. Want to go sit on the sofa or something?”
Trent put his arms around her waist, pulling her between his legs until her thighs touched the stool. “The ‘or something’ sounds promising.”
His lips brushed hers as his hands roamed over her butt, giving it a squeeze for good measure. His tongue brushed across hers, stroking the tip gently. Man, she tasted so freakin’ good. All sugar and spice.
Harper reached up to slide both hands into Trent’s hair. She could mess it up all she wanted, the feel of her fingernails softly dragging against his scalp worth whatever damage she did to it.
A groan resonated deep in his chest as she leaned into him and he felt her sexy smile against his lips.
“You have that effect on me,” he murmured against her lips.
A loud buzzing came from the kitchen, and Harper moved her lips from his. Ovens, he hated them.
Over dinner he learned so much more about her. She hated horror movies, loved Christmas, and had been junior chess champion in her school.
She was also a natural flirt. The way she held his eyes while he talked to her about setting up Second Circle with Cujo, laughing at the stories of their mishaps along the way.
Stroking his arm with her fingertips as he took a break to drink his wine.
He’d been hard since the moment he’d walked in and seen that dress clinging to her delectable curves.
It was clear she was still avoiding details about her past and had outright set him straight twice when the topic had veered too close to where her hometown was and what she did before she’d moved to Miami.
He knew enough of what happened but didn’t pretend to understand why she had felt the need to run. The guy had been put in jail—so why had she still felt so threatened and scared afterward? So terrified that she’d left her whole life behind.
“That was the most impressive home-cooked dinner I’ve had in a really long time, Harper.”
“Glad you enjoyed it. There are leftovers you can take home for tomorrow.” Harper got up to clear the table.
Trent put his hand on her wrist to stop her. “My mom would kill me if she knew I let you cook for me and clean up. Sit. I got this.”
He watched as she carefully picked her glass up by the stem, gently swirling the rich, blood-red wine around in the bottom.
The way her lips opened to sip and the soft moan as she savored the wine made him groan.
Shaking the thought, he gathered the plates and rinsed them under the tap before returning to his chair.
When had his life turned into a fucking romance novel?
* * *
“So I gotta ask: After a meal like that, what’s for dessert?”
He looked at her intensely. Maybe it was the wine, but Harper felt a sudden surge of confidence. “Me?”
Trent spluttered as he sprayed his red wine across the tablecloth. Wow. Was it that crazy of a suggestion? Had she misread the situation? It wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe this was too fast for him. Or too serious or something. Embarrassment engulfed her.
“Never mind,” Harper said, trying to stop the burning in her eyes from turning into tears. Trent was still coughing. Getting up, she laid her napkin on the table and headed to the kitchen.
“It’s chocolate molten lava cake,” she called back over her shoulder, hoping he couldn’t see the mortification on her face.
Harper’s breath was stolen from her lungs as Trent grabbed her arm.
“You surprised me is all. Don’t ever think for one minute I don’t want you.
Ever.” The burn of his gaze heated her insides.
“Going slow has been killing me,” he said, his voice low and husky.
His lips crushed hers as he lifted her into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and pushing her up against the living room wall.
“Getting you naked is all I have been able to think about since that night on the beach.”
His strong arms held her up like she weighed nothing. Gripping his flexed biceps, Harper leaned her head back against the wall as his mouth blazed a trail down her neck.
A shiver brushed through her as his fingers pushed her dress up higher, stroking the soft skin of her inner thigh.
Her body was all sensation.
“I love touching you, Harper. You’re so soft.”
“I’m nervous,” she confessed quietly.
Trent leaned in and kissed her gently. “Don’t be, baby. It’s just you and me, right? When we walk into your room, don’t let anyone else come with us. I want you to myself tonight.”
Still carrying her, he strode into her bedroom.
As he lowered her to the bed, Trent knelt down between her thighs, pausing to run his fingers through her hair.
“Tell me if you need me to stop.” His eyes were searching hers, looking for permission to continue. He was devouring her with just a look. Unable to put words to the myriad of feelings consuming her, Harper just nodded.
Trent’s fingers slid gently under the hem of her dress. He licked and kissed his way from her collarbone to the back of her ear. Harper shivered as sensations began to overwhelm her senses.
“It drives me crazy, the way you melt against me, Harper. There are so many things I want to do with you that I don’t know where to start.”
Pulling back from her, he lifted her dress the rest of the way up her thighs and over her head at a painfully slow pace. Kneeling back on his heels, he studied her. A slow, languorous perusal of her body.