Chapter 12 #2
Harper laughed, sad and self-deprecating. “Maybe he doesn't want what's right in front of him.”
“Oh, he wants it.” Felix glanced toward the house, more specifically the porch, and I had the sudden, uncomfortable feeling that he knew I was here. That he'd known all along. “Trust me. He wants it. He's just too scared to admit it.”
He pulled Harper into a brief, friendly hug, then stepped back. “Go inside. Get warm. And Harper? Good luck with the idiot on the porch.”
Fuck.
I froze, my hands gripping the armrests so hard the wood creaked under my fingers.
Without thinking, I tried to lean sideways out of the light spilling from the windows, shifting my weight too quickly.
The rocking chair protested with a loud groan, one runner lifting off the deck boards before slamming back down with a thump that echoed across the porch.
My boot shot out instinctively to steady myself, catching the edge of the side table.
The empty beer bottle I'd set there teetered, and I made a desperate grab for it—missing completely.
It toppled over and rolled across the wooden planks with a hollow clink-clink-clink before coming to rest against the porch railing.
Harper's head whipped toward the house, her eyes scanning the shadows where I sat frozen in the rocking chair like a complete idiot—trapped, exposed, and apparently incapable of sitting still without announcing my presence to the entire county.
Felix jogged back to the Jeep with a wave, climbing into the passenger seat. The engine started, and they pulled away, leaving Harper standing at the bottom of my porch steps, staring into the darkness.
“Connor?” Her voice was tentative. “Are you out here?”
I should answer. Step out of the shadows and stop hiding like a coward.
The words were stuck in my throat. All I could hear was her voice saying that she didn't think I wanted her.
She wanted me. She turned Felix down because she wanted me.
Harper took a step onto the porch, then another, moving slowly toward the door. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, shivering in the cold March night.
I couldn't stay in the shadows anymore. I stood from the rocking chair, and the movement drew her attention. She spun toward me, her eyes wide in the dim light.
“Connor.” My name was half gasp, half relief. “How long have you been out here?”
“Long enough.” My voice came out rough, raw with emotion I couldn't contain anymore. “Long enough to hear you tell Felix no. Long enough to hear you say…” I stopped, swallowing hard. “Long enough.”
Harper's breath caught, visible in the cold air. Her eyes were huge in the darkness, searching my face for something I wasn't sure I knew how to give her.
“You heard all of that?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself.
I moved toward her slowly, closing the distance one deliberate step at a time. She tracked my movement with those wide green eyes, her breath coming faster, her whole body trembling. From the cold, nerves or anticipation, I didn't know.
When I was close enough to touch her, I stopped. I was close enough to see the flecks of gold in her green eyes, to count the freckles across her nose, and feel the warmth radiating from her skin despite the cold night air.
“Tell me you didn't think of me,” I said, my voice low and rough. “Tell me you sat through that entire dinner, laughing at his jokes, looking at him while wearing that dress, and you didn't think of me once.”
Harper's breath caught again, her pupils dilating. “Connor—”
“Tell me.” I took another step closer until barely an inch separated us.
“That you didn't wish it was me sitting across from you.
That when he touched your hand or made you laugh, you didn't compare it to us.
Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me I'm imagining things.
Tell me you don't feel this thing between us.”
“I can't.” Her voice shook, breaking on the words. “I can't tell you that because it would be a lie. Connor, I—”
I didn't let her finish.
I moved that final inch and kissed her. The moment my lips touched hers, everything else fell away.
The past week of torture, the months of distance and careful avoidance, the years of wanting her and being too afraid to act—all of it disappeared.
There was only Harper. The soft warmth of her mouth under mine, the small gasp she made against my lips, the way her hands came up to grip my shirt like she needed something to hold onto.
I kissed her like I'd been dying to kiss her for six years. Like she was oxygen and I'd been drowning. Like she was the answer to every question I'd been too scared to ask.
She kissed me back with equal desperation, her fingers twisting in my shirt, pulling me closer. Her mouth opened under mine, and I deepened the kiss, tasting her, memorizing every small sound she made.
God, finally.
My hands moved to her waist, feeling her dress. That damn dress that had been driving me crazy all night. I felt her shiver under my touch, not from cold now. From want. From the same desperate need that was coursing through me.
When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard, trembling. I rested my forehead against hers and tried to remember how to form words.
“I thought about you,” Harper whispered, her voice shaky. “The whole night. Every single second. I kept wishing it was you sitting across from me, making me laugh. You…” Her voice broke. “It was always you, Connor.”
Something in my chest cracked open at her words. Something that had been locked away for so long I'd forgotten it was there.
“Take me inside,” she breathed against my lips, her fingers still twisted in my shirt. “Please. Connor, I need—”
I kissed her again, harder this time, swallowing whatever she'd been about to say. My hands tightened on her waist, feeling the soft fabric of her dress under my palms, feeling the curve of her body beneath it.
Mine. She's mine.
“Are you sure?” I forced myself to pull back enough to look at her face. To make sure this was really what she wanted. To make sure she understood what this meant. “Harper, if we do this—”
“I'm sure.” Her eyes were dark and certain, dilated with want and something deeper. “I've never been more sure of anything. Connor, please. Don't make me wait anymore.”
That was all the permission I needed.
I bent and scooped her up into my arms. She made a small sound of surprise that turned into a breathless laugh as I carried her toward the door.
“Connor, you don't have to—”
“Yes, I do.” I paused at the door to kiss her again, unable to stop touching her now that I'd started. “I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you for so long. I'm not rushing this.”
I somehow managed to get the door open while still holding her, and then we were inside. The house was warm compared to the cold night air, and I felt Harper relax slightly in my arms.
But I didn't put her down, didn't let her go. Instead, I carried her toward the stairs, kissing her the whole way. Her neck, her jaw, back to her mouth. She made these small sounds that were driving me crazy while her hands were in my hair, and her body was warm and perfect in my arms.
“Your room,” she breathed against my lips. “Connor, take me to your room.”
The words sent heat shooting through me, pooling low in my belly. “Harper, once I get you in my bed…”
She pulled back to look at me, her eyes dark and serious. “I want to be in your bed. In your room. I want…” She swallowed hard. “I want everything.”
I took the stairs faster than was probably safe, my heart hammering against my ribs. I'd never brought a woman into my bedroom. Not even Morgan. This space had always been just mine. Private. Sacred. Separate from the rest of my life.
But Harper belonged here. She'd always belonged here.
I pushed open the door with my shoulder and carried her inside. Moonlight filtered through the windows, casting everything in silver and shadow.
I set Harper down gently on the edge of my bed and braced my hands on either side of her, caging her in. Looking down at her in that green dress, her hair mussed from my hands, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes dark with want.
She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
“Last chance,” I said, my voice rough. “Last chance to change your mind.
Because Harper, if we do this, everything changes.
I'm not interested in casual. I'm not interested in pretending tomorrow that this didn't mean anything. I want,” I paused, swallowing hard.
“I want everything. With you. So if that's not what you want, tell me now.”
Harper's hands came up to cup my face, her thumbs brushed across my cheekbones. Her eyes were soft and full of emotions I couldn't start to name without breaking.
“Connor Whitaker,” she whispered. “I want everything too. Every single thing you're willing to give me.”
The last thread of my control snapped.
I kissed her again, harder this time, and felt her hands move to my shirt, tugging at buttons with fingers that trembled. I helped her, shrugging out of it while she watched with eyes that had gone dark with want.
Her hands found my chest, fingers splaying across my skin, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the contact. Her touch was electric, setting every nerve ending on fire.
“Your turn,” I murmured against her mouth, my hands finding the zipper at the back of that green dress. I pulled her up off the bed and turned her gently. The dress she'd worn for Felix but had been thinking about me in. “Can I?”
“Yes.” The word was barely a whisper.
I took my time with the zipper, drawing it down slowly, pressing my lips to each inch of skin I revealed. Her shoulders, her spine, the curve of her back. She shivered under my attention, her breath started coming in soft gasps that made my pulse race.