18. Harper
18
“ H arper, come on in. You’re right on time.”
“Thank you,” I stepped in and handed Grace a bottle of wine. “I’m sorry, I would have called but I didn’t have your number. I wasn’t sure if dinner was still on with the storm coming.”
“Nonsense,” she said, waving a hand for me to follow her. “We all got to eat. And Robert will take you home later if need be.”
“Thanks, I don’t mind driving in the rain.”
“Well, you and August will have a grand ‘ol time with this.” She held up the bottle before setting it on the counter. “No one else in the family drinks red wine.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I would have—”
“Don’t be, he’ll love it. He insists all we ever have is beer in the house for the other two Hartman men…”
My pulse spiked.
“Come on in. The boys got in a few hours ago. They all just caught up with some laughs in the den and…went out.” Part of her update sounded like it was spoken through gritted teeth.
“Can I help with anything? Something smells amazing.”
“That’s just the cupcakes.” Her tone was tired when she referred them.
“Cupcakes?” I almost laughed.
“Don’t go judging a mother. I’ve been making cupcakes for my boys since their first birthday, but I’ve decided today that they’re too old and probably think their mother is an idiot. So I won’t be finishing those. Just letting them cool before I throw them out.”
I washed my hands, sensing that something was off. It was an instinct. When my parents had a fight, they would pretend everything was okay but their tones and certain things they said would give it away.
“That’s too bad, I miss my mother’s cakes.” My mother never baked. And neither of us had much of a sweet tooth.
She stilled. “Oh. Of course, you know what, maybe just one sheet couldn't hurt.”
Worked like a charm.
“Do you mind?” I crossed to them and lifted the sleeves of my ivory shirt. “I could help you finish them.”
She seemed worried, then reached into the cupboard and handed me a jar and a spatula. “They just need some icing.”
“White?”
“Well, Troy likes chocolate and strawberry frosting, while August prefers Vanilla because he hates food coloring. I wasn’t going to make two batches of everything my whole life, so I switch off. Today's vanilla.”
“Vanilla, huh?”
“He’s never any fun.”
“Was he ever?”
She considered it for a moment. “I mean not compared to Troy. Or compared to anyone I know, really. He just always preferred his schoolwork and then eventually his job over anything else.”
I frowned just as the front door burst open. A bellowing, that was unfortunately familiar in a weird way came bursting.
“Mom, we’re back,” Troy announced from the door.
She huffed and turned.
I heard a duffle bag drop on the wooden floor by the stairs before Troy walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Harp, glad you could make it.” He winked at me and I wondered if he knew anything about what happened between August and me.
“Where’s your brother?” Grace asked.
“Outside on a call.”
She sighed and shook her head.
Troy walked over to the counter where I stood and grabbed a cupcake. He winked at me and seemed like he was going to say something flirtatious until his father walked into the room. “Troy, what are you doing?”
“I was just going to the living room to watch game recaps.”
“Good idea, bring a notepad,” he snapped. “I’ll join you.”
The Hartman parents exchanged looks and the two men left the room.
Yep, tension was thick in here tonight.
The front door closed and footsteps sounded in a distant room of the house. Probably one of the small rooms I passed on the way to the kitchen.
He had to know I was here. My car was in the driveway.
I tried to focus on the task at hand. I heard his voice in the distance and he didn’t sound happy.
“Sounds like a problem at work?” Grace asked her husband when he stepped back into the room to grab something from the fridge.
“Gee, I wonder why,” he muttered.
I had a feeling I knew what the elephant in the room was now.
A few minutes later, the conversation in the other room stopped with what sounded like a final command from August. He stepped into the room, clean-shaven, sharp with dark jeans and a gray long-sleeved shirt. His hair was brushed to the side instead of dry and wavy like Troy’s. His black-framed eyeglasses seated on the bridge of his nose.
His green eyes found me instantly and dipped down to find me working on the cupcakes. And though his gaze brushed mine, he didn’t hold it. Not even for a second. Instead, he turned to his mother. “I’ve got to take another call upstairs. Shouldn’t be long.”
“Excuse me,” his mother objected. “We have a guest.”
I cleared my throat. “Hello, August,” I offered from across the kitchen. “Great to see you again.”
His expression was blank. “Same,” he said just before his phone rang. “Excuse me.” He answered on the first ring. “Eddie, hi.” He stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Yes, everything you see is up to date. If anything looks off, let me know, and I’ll—”
A pause and it sounded like the entire house went silent.
“This a new one?” Grace whispered to her husband.
“It’s the big one,” Robert answered.
My stomach dropped. No wonder he seemed stressed.
I finished the cupcakes and set them aside to help Grace with dinner prep.
“You’re not going to learn anything by watching, you know?” I heard Robert say when he stepped out into the living room.
“Hey, Mom, can I have a beer?” Troy called.
“I’ll make you some herbal tea.”
August returned to the kitchen a few minutes later. As cold as he was being, I felt bad for him. I ached to reach out and hold him. He had so much weight on his shoulders as it was. And his brother was only taking advantage.
“August, why don’t you pour Harper a glass of that bottle she brought over on the table?”
He turned toward the small kitchen table with a brow slightly raised, then walked over, lifting the bottle and examining it.
“Good choice.” I heard him whisper before striding over to the counter I stood behind as I diced tomatoes. He reached above, to the hanging rack and removed two glasses, setting them between us.
It was a wide enough counter, but his proximity made me warm again. He was working slowly, spinning the bottle slightly after popping it open. “You’re supposed to let it air out for a bit.”
I swallowed, feeling as if I’d faint if he spoke in that gruff voice to me again and held up my glass. “Would you just pour the damn wine?” I urged under my breath.
His lip twitched and he reached out to grasp my shaky hand, steading the glass. The moment our fingers touched, an electric shock jolted through my body and any doubt I had that this was the same man who touched me in the finest places, was gone.
This was him.
His softened gaze moved to the liquid pouring out into the glass.
I watched him. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He poured a glass for himself and moved to the far end of the kitchen by the buffet. Almost as if he needed to have one foot out of the room.
Troy stepped back into the kitchen, and I felt August’s eyes on me. “If I can’t have a beer, I’m taking two of these.” He reached for a couple of cupcakes and slipped out of the room.
Grace shook her head. “Knew I should have hid those in the laundry room until after dinner…no one ever goes in the laundry room but me,” she said as she washed vegetables in a large bowl in the sink.
“That’s terrible. I’ve been doing my own laundry since I was twelve.”
“I believe it.” Grace nodded at me.
“Mom, what are you doing?” August snapped suddenly.
I looked up and found Grace massaging an eggplant up and down with her right hand while gripping the bottom with her left. Her thumb smoothing the rounded tip every few strokes.
Oh. My. God.
I felt myself pale.
“What? Oh, I’m testing for firmness. I bought this at the grocery store two weeks ago, just making sure it’s still fresh.”
“Did you get the Food Network mixed up with another channel, Mom?”
“No. I ran into Harper at the store that day and she taught me a little trick. Am I doing it right there, Harp?”
My face burned, and I glanced at August, whose expression was a mixture of perplexed humor.
“Yeah, I think that’s right Grace,” I squealed. It was all I could say. Heaven forbid I told her it wasn’t, and she’d ask me to demonstrate.
“Here you want to do the rest of these for me while I chop up the garlic?”
August moved closer until he reached the other side of the island. I rushed to rinse the remaining eggplants under water, ignoring his amused stare.
“I’ve never heard of that trick, Harper. Does it only work for eggplants?”
I swallowed, keeping my eyes on the bowl. “No. No. It’s…tomatoes, um, zucchini, cucum—” I dropped the last of it and shut off the water as my words got stuck in my throat. “These are done.”
“August, be a doll and bring them over to me here,” Grace called from the stove.
August took the steel bowl from me and leaned in with a grin. “Coming right up.”
I inhaled deeply and wiped at my sweaty forehead.
“Mrs. Hartman, you don’t really have to check them this way. These—these are fine. I can tell. You picked a great batch."
“You can tell the firmness just by looking? I just hope it doesn’t go all soft on me before I have a chance to use it, you know?”
I was pretty sure I’d stopped breathing by this point. Back teeth clenched hard enough to cause permanent gum damage. “No, you’re fine. These are perfect.”
August was still chuckling softly when Troy and his father came in.
“Look at that. I hadn’t seen you break more than a tight grin in years. What’s so funny?” Robert asked.
Troy grabbed his hot tea from the counter and pulled up a stool next to me. I ignored him. The boy beside me was merely a blur compared to the man across the room now, who’s features were clear as day to me. Flexed jaw, steel eyes looking anywhere but our direction.
“I bet it’s the company,” Troy teased, his eyes practically violating me.
“Oh stop flirting, Troy. Harper is here as my guest and off limits, you hear me?” There was a playful tone in her voice but a certain edge to it.
I waited for my insides to boil. For the anger and resentment I felt toward him to surface. But I felt nothing but pity for him right now.
A loud thunder sounded over the roof and I jumped. “You alright, lovey? It’s only a little rain.” Grace touched my shoulder.
“Let’s hope it’s a little,” Robert muttered as he peered through the back door window. “It’s supposed to be the tail end of that hurricane coming up from the south, but I hear it’s getting closer to the island in a category two…maybe even three.”
“That’s just the news looking for ratings, Dad,” August assured.
“Not everything is about business and making money, August. There are still reporters telling us what we need to know,” Troy argued.
“That reminds me, I’ve got to make some calls. Call me when dinner is ready.”
“Or if I need to reach something,” Grace called back.
“You know, I could get it for you, Mom,” Troy claimed.
She smiled sweetly. “Of course, sweetheart, I just don’t want you to strain.”
“It’s cause I’m taller,” August called from the living room as fingers moved around his phone.
“By like a millionth of an inch.”
I cocked my head at the taller brother and he caught my eye as I scanned the length of him.