9. Harper #3
“O.M.G, I love this song!” Wren cries, dragging Blake into the throngs of people. Blake shoves something at Jace that he barely catches, finally letting go of my arms, the sudden loss of contact jarring.
Squatting down, he reaches out his other hand to Lizzie. “Hi, I’m Jace, and who are you?”
Lizzie starts hopping on the balls of her feet and flapping her hands.
I stare at Jace, gauging at how he’s reacting to Lizzie.
My chest feels tight, and my throat constricts.
My mind has gone blank. I know I need to do or say something, but I’m flustered.
Lizzie suddenly leans forward and takes a huge bite out of the cotton candy in Jace’s other hand. A horrified laugh escapes my lips.
“Lizzie Quinn!” I scoop her into my arms. “You can’t just eat someone else’s food.” She squeals and laughs like it’s a game.
“Jace, I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new one,” I say, my head whipping side to side as I try to find the cotton candy cart.
“Harper. Harper,” his words are gentle but firm as he stops my movements, “it’s fine.” Then he grins. “In fact, it’s more than fine. This is Blake’s cotton candy that he foisted on me to dance with Wren, so from where I’m standing, it was fair game.”
A new song starts and Lizzie grasps my face, pulling it so we are eye to eye. “Da, Da.” Then wiggles out of my arms and grasps my finger, pulling me toward the dance floor while pointing.
“Sounds like you’re being summoned to the dance floor.” Jace smiles, watching Lizzie like he’s piecing together a puzzle.
“It’s her favorite song. Uh, it was nice seeing you again, Jace.” I head out onto the dance floor. Lizzie and I dance and twirl to the song. When I glance back, Jace is still standing there watching us, and I have to remind myself that he’s not for me.
The next few songs are all upbeat and have Lizzie written all over them. As the night wears on, the band starts playing some slow songs. When a new song starts, Wren pops up behind me, reaching for Lizzie. “Princess Lizzie the First, may I have this dance?” she says in a British accent.
I can’t help but laugh at Wren's antics as she starts, honest to God, waltzing through the crowd, swinging a giggling Lizzie around the area.
“Looks like you’re free for a song, may I?
” Jace asks with his hand outstretched. Leaning into the moment and the magic of the fair, I take his hand.
He spins me before pulling me in close, his hands holding my lower back.
I link my hands around his neck. Indulging in my fantasy, I let my fingers play with the ends of his hair, surprised at how soft it is.
We dance, not even talking, just watching each other.
I can see all the questions he’s trying not to ask in his eyes.
I see the shift in his look and know it’s coming, so I brace myself for the inevitable, “What’s wrong with her?” question that chips away at my heart every time it’s uttered. “Soooo, you’re a mom?”
I’m taken aback because I’d been guarding my heart for something harsh, not the simple question asked.
“Yeah, I am. Lizzie is four and she’s my everything.” My words are quiet. I don’t even know why, but my throat feels clogged with emotions.
“Why didn’t you mention it yesterday?” He seems so genuinely curious. We had chatted about work, and Juniper Falls, but hadn’t gotten really personal. I consider deflecting, saying it didn’t come up, but something inside compels me to tell him the truth.
“I love my daughter more than life itself, she’s the light of my world, and at times, she was the only light I had.
But for the last four years, I’ve been Harper, the single mom, or Harper, the special needs mom.
For one day, I guess I just wanted to be Harper with no attachments and free to take a chance with a cute boy she met at the festival.
” He swallows, and I track the movement, not ready to look him in the eye again.
We sway to the music, still pressed impossibly close together.
His hand flexes on my back, before he rests his chin on my head.
I drop it to his chest and just soak up the comfort he’s silently offering at my confession.
“Can I take you on a date, please?” His voice is hoarse and tugs at me in a primal way. Everything in me is screaming to say yes. But rational Harper knows it would only end badly. I lean back, and he reluctantly loosens his hold so we can look at each other. I stop dancing.
I’m shaking my head while I push through the lump in my throat to respond.
“I can’t.” He opens his mouth to protest, but I push on before he can say anything that might change my mind.
“You said it yourself; you’re only here for work.
When the project is over, what then? I can’t bring someone into Lizzie’s and my life when they are planning to leave.
I’ve had enough hurt to last a lifetime, and I’m not willing to open myself up for certain heartache, no matter how attracted to you I might be.
” I let my statement hang in the air, like a heavy weight.
A metaphorical door shutting on the fanciful moment we shared.