Chapter 12
Terrified
Oh, my freaking lord .
The buzzer rang insistently.
He was here, and I wasn’t ready.
I pressed the intercom button. “Hey. I’m not quite ready yet. Do you want to come up?”
He’d never been in my place.
I looked around quickly. Not a single vibrator or dildo to be seen. Not that there would be. It’s not like I got busy in my living room.
“If you’re sure, I’d love to see your place,” he answered smoothly.
My eyes widened at the thought of allowing him into my private space. What would he learn about me by seeing my place?
“I’ll buzz you in.”
I’d taken far too much time with my hair and make-up. It wasn’t like Daire hadn’t seen me countless times without make-up, dressed in my tracks, messy blue bun on top of my head.
But he sure as hell had never seen me wrapped up in a short, baby pink silk robe with matching panties underneath.
This is not a date, I scolded myself.
But I was sure as hell preparing as if it was.
I moved to unlock the door so I could hide in my bedroom and holler at him to come on in. Just as I turned the deadbolt, he knocked.
I jerked back, yelled ‘it’s open’, and scampered down the hall.
“Stop.”
I halted immediately, my hands braced in front of me. “What’s wrong?”
“Turn around.”
My knees began to quake. I closed my eyes.
Say no, Harley.
I slowly spun on my heel to face him. “I’m sorry.” My voice shook. “I’m almost ready. Just have to pull on my clothes.”
“Holy fuck,” he whispered hoarsely. “Harley…” His eyes left a trail of smoke from the top of my head to the tip of my toes and back again.
Dressed casually in worn jeans and a faded Rolling Stones T-shirt, he looked like sex on wheels.
I may or may not have drooled. But I was one hundred percent sure my nipples were loudly broadcasting their interest. I quickly crossed my arms over my chest.
“Don’t,” he spoke softly, but somehow it sounded like a warning. “Don’t hide your beautiful self from me. I adore you.”
Adore me? You don’t even know me.
“Maybe I don’t want you to see me,” I whispered.
“If you don’t, it’s for all the wrong reasons.” He inhaled deeply and leaned back on his heels. “I’ll wait for you in your living room.”
I nodded, backing out of the room a few steps before turning around and booting it to my bedroom.
I closed my door and locked it.
It wasn’t that I felt unsafe with him, but he had this way of belonging where he shouldn’t and taking over every space he entered. And I was not ready for him to come into this space.
Throwing my robe onto the bed, I pulled on my cropped boyfriend jeans with a tight white tank over which I layered a lacy, barely there, blouse. Slipping my feet into flats, I gathered my courage and walked out to the family room.
He stood beside the mantle, a framed picture of Hawk, Hunter, Noelle, Max, and me taken the summer we lost Hunter. I probably should not have had it up. It was taken only about a month before he died and seeing it only ever brought me pain.
But how could I put it away?
“Is this…” Daire murmured, pointing at Hunter.
I looked at the picture, as if I needed to confirm, as if it wasn’t permanently imprinted on my brain.
Hunter stood, laughing as usual, between Hawk and me with his long arms wrapped around both of us. Noelle stood beside Hawkley, smiling up at him. And Max stood with his elbow resting on top of my head, pretending to lean on me.
God, we were so happy then. My face pinched.
“That’s Hunter.”
I’d never, ever had to explain to anyone who Hunter was. Hunter was larger than life. Hunter was legendary. Hunter was my brother and everyone who knew me knew him.
I answered stiffly. “My brother.”
Daire looked back down at the photo for a moment before putting it back on the mantle. “Your apartment is beautiful, but not what I expected.”
I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved that he steered the conversation so sharply away from Hunter.
“What did you expect?”
“I’m not sure,” he mused, looking around. “I guess I’m just surprised to see how differently you express yourself in public than you do in private.”
I frowned and drew back, crossing my arms over my chest. “What do you mean?”
He strolled toward me. “In public you’re determined, driven, and energetic.
You’re a confidant woman who’s sure of herself, takes no shit, and gives no fucks.
Your clothes reflect that.” Stopping just outside of my personal space, he plucked the edge of my lacy sleeve between his fingers and rubbed it gently.
“But here, you’re a woman who is soft and surrounds herself with family and romance.
A woman who seeks comfort and provides it to others.
And maybe a woman who doesn’t always want to work so hard to keep control of—”
I stepped back and poked at him. “You got all that from a few couch cushions? You want to read my tea leaves next?” I teased, forcing myself to smile lightly. “Where are we going, anyway? This is a working lunch, right?”
He knocked me off-balance.
It was bad enough dealing with Max and his psychologistic x-ray vision. Now Daire? The person I most wanted to keep my cool around?
Taking my elbow, he walked us to the door. “It’s a surprise.”
I scowled. “I don’t like surprises.”
He nodded. “I know. But you’ll like this one.”
I leaned back to look up at him. “This is a working lunch, right?”
“Yes, spitfire,” he nodded. “It’s a working lunch.”
“Not a date,” I pushed.
“Are you kidding?” His eyebrows rose.
I immediately felt all kinds of foolish. Did he not want to date me?
“Not a chance, little spitfire. This is not my raincheck. That,” he emphasized, “I’ll be collecting another day.”
As he took the road leading out of town, I protested, “We could have just gone to Susie Q’s. Or The Beanery. Or even The Beaver Dam. It’s quiet there during the day.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“It’s a working lunch. It’s not supposed to be fun,” I grumbled, more and more uncomfortable with the fact that I couldn’t keep my eyes off his thighs, the muscles bunching against the faded denim every time he shifted from the gas to the brake.
His hands on the wheel. Large hands, but slender.
Like an artist’s. He smelled so good and his voice, every time he broke the silence, skated up my spine, yanked back my hair, and licked up the side of my throat.
Ugh. I needed to get laid.
But fuck me if I was willing to settle for anything less than what I was pretty damn sure he had to deliver.
I’d be breaking out the toys tonight for sure.
“I’m a kindergarten teacher, Harley. It’s my job to make work fun,” he teased, then his tone changed. “I’ve put a lot of thought into this. Please let me do this for you.”
Chagrined, I deflated. “I’m sorry—”
“No need.”
“I was being rude—”
“Harley,” he spoke sharply. “I want this to be good for you. Sit back. Relax. Let me take the fucking wheel for you for a few hours. Is there somewhere you need to be today?”
I smiled to myself. “He breaks,” I teased.
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, then smirked. “Oh, I break. I promise you, I can only be pushed so far.” He reached out and patted my knee, just once. “But don’t worry little one, you’ll never be on the receiving end of that. Not in any way you won’t like.”
I harrumphed but let his loaded comment pass, turning my attention instead to figuring out where he was taking me.
He bypassed the turnoff to Mistlevale, which was my first guess. There was absolutely nothing down this way except for farms, farms, and more farms—
I grabbed his arm. “Oh my gosh. Are we going to Farm-to-Table?”
He smiled. “Yes. I take it I did well?”
I squeezed, digging my fingers into his forearm. “Daire, you have no idea, I haven’t been in so long. Paul hated—”
“Paul was a prick.”
“True, true, this is true,” I murmured, relaxing my grip but not releasing his arm as I looked out the window.
“Daire, I love this place. Truly love it.” Another thought occurred to me.
My grip tightened. “Wait, is this weekend, no, it can’t be, yes, it is!
” I squealed. “Oh my god, this is the Fan Fave Festival weekend!”
I turned in my seat and beamed at him. “It’s going to be an absolute zoo!”
He laughed out loud and covered my hand with his. “I’m glad you’re happy. You deserve to be this happy all the time.”
Suddenly aware of how deeply I leaned into him, and my hand still clamped onto his arm, I edged back in my seat and slipped my hand back onto my lap. “You speak to me like you’ve known me forever.”
“Haven’t I?” he asked. “I’ve known you since you were, what, seventeen?”
“Well, you were around for a few years then missed more than a decade,” I said drily.
“Harley, it doesn’t happen that often, but when I know something is for me, I don’t hesitate. If I’m coming on too strong, I’ll back off. But I won’t back off too much, and I won’t give up.”
“But how do you know?”
“Let me ask you this: what do you know when you look at me that makes you so scared to go out with me?”
Speechless.
When he put it that way, I could not help but understand. That same intuition that whispered of disaster should I give him my heart and he not live up to his promise, the intuition that sent me running gave him direction.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Terrified.”
“You are?” I asked in surprise.
“Of course,” he murmured, stealing a glance at me. “Anytime you lay your heart on the line you take a risk.”
“And is that what you’re doing? Laying your heart on the line?”
How could he be? It was so soon. We hadn’t even been on a proper date.
He nodded definitively. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“It’s too fast. It’s hard to believe you.”
“I get that. I do. You’ll catch up.”
I barked out a laugh. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
Turning into the lot, he pulled the car into a clear space and threw it into park before facing me. “No, Harley. I’m sure of you.”
I stared at him, slack jawed.
A half-smile on his handsome face, he tucked his fingers along the side of my neck and pushed my jaw closed with his thumb.
My eyes fluttered shut.
“Little spitfire,” he whispered. “Little spitfire with everybody else but not with me.”
I sat unmoving, his firm hold on my neck ultimately freeing. Bargaining with myself for just a few more seconds, I inhaled deeply, my body unwinding, and relaxed further into his hand.
No matter the internal alarms that reminded me of the danger of dependence for an already fractured heart.
“Come on,” he stroked his thumb along my jaw, “you need to eat.”
I opened my eyes and inexplicably felt like crying.
His thumb continued its journey along my cheekbone. “You’ve held it together all alone for far too long.”
I closed my eyes tight. “I can’t, Daire. Not with tomorrow--”
“Tomorrow?” he prodded.
“Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day we lost my brother.”