Chapter 16 #2
“So,” Jaxon started, leaning back against the counter with that smug look of satisfaction spreading across his face. The one that said he'd seen this coming from a mile away and was pleased to be proven right. “We have a lot to catch up on, apparently.”
“Yes, apparently we do.” Anna's voice came from behind me, bright with barely contained excitement.
I turned to find her and Harper stepping into the kitchen. Anna had finally released Harper from the death grip hug, though she kept one hand on Harper's arm like she was afraid Harper might bolt if she let go completely.
I immediately reached out, pulling Harper back into my side where she belonged. My arm slid around her waist, and I felt her lean into me. A small, subtle movement that sent warmth spreading through my chest. She fit against me like she was made for that exact spot.
"When did this happen?" Anna demanded, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and delight.
She'd moved to Jaxon's side, his arm automatically wrapping around her shoulders.
"And don't you dare say 'recently' or give me some vague non-answer.
I want details!" She paused, then added with a grin, "Actually, I should have known the moment it happened.
The universe should have sent me a notification or something.
'Ding! Your two best friends finally pulled their heads out of their asses. '"
Jaxon snorted. "Pretty sure the universe tried. You just weren't paying attention."
"Excuse me, I pay attention to everything," Anna protested, swatting at his chest. "Harper's just really good at keeping secrets."
I glanced down at Harper, letting her decide how much to share. This was her story as much as mine.
She looked up at me, and for the first time since I'd found her staring at the fire, her smile reached her eyes. “Last weekend. After my date with Felix.”
“Your date with Felix?” Anna's eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you went on the date with Felix and then—” she gestured between us, her hand waving, “—this happened?”
“She turned him down,” I said, unable to keep the satisfaction out of my voice. My hand tightened on Harper's waist, possessive. “Told him it was because of me.”
Jaxon laughed, the sound low and knowing. “Bet that went over well.”
“Felix was…surprisingly understanding,” Harper said. A faint blush colored her cheeks, visible even in the kitchen's warm lighting. “Actually, he was really sweet about it.”
“Of course he was,” Anna said, but her attention was already back on us, her expression turning sly. “So what happened after the date? Did Connor finally get down on his knees and—”
“Anna,” Jaxon warned, but he was grinning.
“What? I'm just saying, it's about time!” Anna turned her full attention on me, her eyes narrowing. “Connor Whitaker, you've been pining after this woman for six years. Six! We've all been waiting for you to do something about it.”
“I wasn't pining—”
“You were absolutely pining,” Jaxon interjected. “Every time she walked into a room, you looked like someone had punched you in the chest.”
Harper made a small sound, half laugh, half surprise. “Really?”
“Really,” Anna confirmed, her voice softening. “God, Harper, everyone could see it. Everyone except you two, apparently.” She shook her head, but she was smiling. “I'm just glad you finally figured it out.”
The sound of more tires on gravel interrupted whatever Anna was about to say next. Through the window, I could see Felix's motorcycle pulling up, followed closely by Denny's beat-up Ford truck. Jim's Chevy wasn't far behind, parking near the barn.
“Guess word got out it was Saturday,” Jaxon said, taking another swig of his beer. “You tell everyone to come over?”
“I always tell everyone they're welcome on Saturdays.” It had been my policy for years.
My door was open, my table had room, and anyone who wanted to show up would be fed.
It had started as a way to thank my ranch hands for their work and evolved into including friends, and now it was just tradition.
Harper tensed slightly against me, and I rubbed my thumb in small circles against her hip, trying to soothe. “You okay?” I asked quietly, just for her.
“Yeah.” But her voice had that careful quality again, that controlled calm that wasn't really calm at all. “Just a lot of attention.”
Before I could respond, the side door burst open and Felix strode in, his dark hair windswept and his grin wide. He stopped short when he saw Harper tucked against my side, my arm around her waist, and his grin transformed into something knowing.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Look at this.”
Denny and Jim filed in behind him, Denny with his perpetual cowboy hat and weathered face, Jim with his easy smile and quiet demeanor. They both stopped when they saw us, identical expressions of surprise crossing their faces before settling into warm approval.
“About time, boss,” Denny said, his grin matching Felix's. “We were starting to think you were blind.”
“Or stupid,” Jim added helpfully.
“Thanks for that,” I said dryly, but I was smiling. I couldn't help it when Harper was pressed against my side and my friends were here, happy for us, making this feel right and exactly what I'd been wanting for so long.
Felix crossed the kitchen and, to my surprise, pulled Harper into a quick hug. It was brief and friendly, which prevented the spike of jealousy I might have felt otherwise. “I'm happy for you,” he said, with genuine warmth in his voice. “Both of you. You're good together.”
“Even though she broke your heart?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“My heart's survived worse,” Felix said with a laugh, stepping back. “Besides, I told her to go for it. Can't be mad when she actually listens to my advice. And I may have only asked her out to prove to you that if you didn’t go for it, someone else would.”
The kitchen filled with the noise of congratulations and good-natured ribbing.
Questions about how long this had been going on, jokes about how we'd kept it secret for all of a week.
Someone turned on country music, and Jaxon started helping me get food on the table while Anna directed traffic like she owned the place.
I watched Harper through it all.
She smiled at the right moments, laughed when someone made a joke, accepted hugs and congratulations with grace.
But there was something off in her eyes, something distant.
She responded when people talked to her, but her answers were shorter than usual, her laughter quieter, her usual sharp observations and sarcastic asides noticeably absent.
Like she was performing rather than participating. Going through the motions of being happy while carrying something heavy inside that no one else could see.
No one except me.
Anna noticed too eventually. I caught her watching Harper with a small furrow between her brows, concern flickering across her face before she smoothed it away. She didn't say anything, just stayed close and included Harper in conversations, making sure her wine glass stayed full.
Dinner was loud and chaotic in the best way.
My kitchen table was crowded with eight of us crammed around it, elbows bumping, plates being passed, multiple conversations happening at once.
The pot roast was perfect, the vegetables tender, the rolls Jim had brought from town still warm.
Comfort food shared with people I cared about.
But Harper picked at her food, rearranging more than eating. Smiled when someone addressed her directly but let conversations wash over her otherwise. She sat next to me, our thighs pressed together, her hand occasionally finding mine under the table, but she seemed far away.
By the time dessert rolled around, I was fighting the urge to pull Harper aside and demand to know what was wrong.
After everyone leaves, I told myself. Give her space now, but after everyone's gone, we're talking.
The evening wound down slowly. Denny and Jim were the first to leave, thanking me for dinner and clapping me on the shoulder with gruff congratulations.
Felix lingered longer, helping Jaxon and me clean up the kitchen while Anna and Harper sat on the porch, their voices low and intimate in a way that suggested girl talk.
“She doing okay?” Felix asked quietly as he dried a plate I'd just washed. “Harper, I mean.”
I glanced toward the porch where I could see Harper's silhouette through the glass door. “Why do you ask?”
“She seems off.” He set the plate in the cabinet, his dark eyes concerned. “Quieter than usual. I know the fire was traumatic, and she's dealing with a lot, but tonight she seemed, I don't know. Distracted?”
“Yeah,” I said, my jaw tight. “I noticed.”
“You talk to her about it?”
“Trying to. She keeps saying she's fine.”
Felix snorted. “Women and that damn word. Good luck, man. If she's anything like most women I know, 'fine' means approximately seven different things, none of them fine.”
He wasn't wrong.
By ten, everyone had cleared out. Anna and Jaxon were the last to leave, with Anna hugging Harper fiercely and whispering something in her ear that made Harper's eyes go bright with unshed tears. Then they were gone, taillights disappearing down my driveway, and it was just Harper and me.
The house felt too quiet after all the noise. The kitchen was clean, the leftovers were put away, and the firepit outside had burned down to glowing embers. Chester had already claimed his spot on the living room rug, snoring softly.
Harper stood at the kitchen sink, staring out the window at nothing, her arms wrapped around herself again in that defensive posture that made my chest ache.
I couldn't wait anymore.
I crossed the kitchen in four strides and wrapped my arms around her from behind, pulling her back against my chest. This time she didn't jump, just melted into me with a sigh that sounded bone-deep tired.
“Hey,” I murmured against her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” But her voice was small and uncertain.
“Harper.” I turned her around gently, keeping my arms around her waist. Her green eyes were shadowed, exhausted, and something that looked like fear lurked in their depths. “Talk to me. Please. You've been off all night. All day, really. What's going on?”
“Nothing. I'm just tired.” I couldn’t believe her when the words came out flat.
“Sweetheart, that's bullshit and we both know it.” I softened my tone, cupping her face with one hand. “You barely ate. You've been staring at fires like they might attack you. You're here but you're not really here. Something's wrong, and I need you to tell me what it is.”
Her eyes filled with tears that she blinked back furiously, her jaw setting in that stubborn way I recognized. “Connor—”
“Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together. But you have to let me in.”
I slid my hands down from her face to her waist, then around to her back, pulling her closer. My hands naturally found the back pockets of her jeans, a habit I'd developed over the past week, this casual intimacy that felt both new and familiar.
My fingers brushed against something stiff and rectangular in her right back pocket. I froze, my hand stilling as Harper's whole body went rigid against me, her breath catching in a way that said she knew exactly what I'd found.
I pulled it out slowly, finding a black business card with silver embossed numbers. No name. No company. Just a phone number that glinted in the kitchen light.
Ice flooded my veins as I stared at it, then up at Harper's face. She'd gone pale, her eyes wide and terrified.
“Harper,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “What is this?”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Tears spilled over, tracking down her cheeks. “Connor, I—”
“When did you get this?” I was already pulling out my phone, ready to call Davies.
“Yesterday.” Her voice broke on the word. “Someone came to the boutique yesterday. In the afternoon.”
The kitchen tilted around me.
“Yesterday,” I repeated, my voice flat with the effort of keeping calm when rage was building in my chest like a wildfire. “Twenty-four hours ago. And you didn't tell me.”
“I couldn't—”
“You couldn't?” My volume rose despite my best efforts. “Harper, someone connected to whoever burned down your apartment showed up at your boutique, and you didn't think that was something I should know?”
“He didn't just threaten me!” The words burst out of her, loud, desperate and terrified. And there it was—that fire I'd been missing all night, that sharp edge that meant Harper was fighting instead of just surviving.
“Connor, he threatened you. He threatened your ranch. He showed me pictures of the house and your barn and he said,” her voice cracked completely as sobs took over.
“He said ranch fires are common. That accelerants make them burn fast. That it's hard to escape when they start at night when people are sleeping.”
The blood drained from my face.
All my anger evaporated, replaced by cold, stark terror. Not for me, but for Harper.
“He gave me three days,” she continued, the words tumbling out now like she couldn't hold them back anymore. “Three days to sign over the boutique or he'll burn down your ranch. With us in it. Connor, I can't—I won't let them hurt you because of me. I won't.”
“Harper—”
“I'm going to call.” She gestured to the card in my hand, her face streaked with tears, defiance mixing with desperation in her expression.
“I'm going to call them and accept their deal and sign whatever they want because your life is worth more than a building. Worth more than my business. Worth more than anything.”
I stared at her. At this woman I loved who was prepared to sacrifice everything she'd built to protect me. Who'd been carrying this crushing weight alone because she thought it would keep me safe.
Then I pulled her into my arms and held her while she fell apart.