Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
"How did things go with Ross?'
Harper was halfway across the hall when the question stopped her.
She turned to find Lucy coming from the left wing hallway with a large vase of fresh flowers.
It was a new day and Harper had very little sleep.
She'd spent half the night thinking about Ross, wondering, imagining, dreaming, and admonishing herself for doing so.
Last night, spending time with Ross, was... unexpected. Definitely a mistake.
Lucy shifted the vase, holding it to one side. Her smile was as bright as the flowers she held. "You did find him?"
"I did, yes." Part of her suddenly wanted to open up and flood Lucy with an accounting of all things Ross.
She barely knew the woman, but Lucy had an openness about her, a quirkiness that Harper liked.
Or maybe it was the down-to-earth vibe. Who knew.
But it made Harper want to blab the entire sordid story.
"Didn't go as planned?" Lucy surmised.
"Pretty much. But things seem to be going better now. About to meet him at the old distillery."
Lucy bit her lip thoughtfully. "It's almost lunch. Why don't you take something with you." She set the vase on a nearby table. "I'll make you guys a basket."
"Oh no, it's okay."
"Nope. I insist," Lucy said already walking to the kitchen. "Come on, Harper. It won't take long," she called over her shoulder.
"But . . . I'll be late," she said lamely following.
"Nothing wrong with keeping a man waiting a little. Besides, once he sees what you brought, all will be forgiven. Trust me."
"And if he worries about where you are, well, that's good for him too," Riley said in a surly tone, meeting them in the hallway as she, too, was heading for the kitchen. Riley had fire in her eyes and Harper sensed it had nothing to do with keeping Ross waiting.
In the kitchen, Lucy directed her to the pantry to get bread while Lucy pulled items from the massive refrigerator. When Lucy had her hands full, she shut the door with her rear and gave Riley a look. "You gonna help or sit there and watch us?"
"Sit here and watch." Riley parked her hip on the counter and crossed her arms over her chest.
Harper liked the MacLaren women. They were exactly the sort of friends she'd have if she ever allowed herself time to have friends, that is. "Man trouble?" Harper ventured as she unwrapped the bread and took the knife Lucy handed her.
Riley snorted. "If you can call him a man. I prefer to call him a dic—"
"Riley!" Lucy shouted.
"What?" she asked innocently. "He is. Well, he's acting that way at least. And I'm sure Harper knows all about dic—"
"Riley!"
Harper couldn't help it. She started laughing. Lucy followed. Riley, still pissed off, finally gave a begrudging chuckle.
"It's okay," Harper assured Lucy. "She's right. I've known my share."
"So what's the deal with you and Ross anyway?" Riley asked.
"It's..." She searched for where to begin.
"Complicated? It always is with the good ones," Riley said.
Harper eyed her for a long second. "You think he's a good one? Ross, I mean."
"Any man who dotes on Fran and Hamish like Ross does and allows that ole coot to run all over him... Yeah, he's a good one."
Harper thought about that for a long moment. She felt lost, honestly. And alone. And in need of friendship and support. "He was my first."
Riley and Lucy's eyes grew wide. Understanding the significance to that statement, they pulled her to the table.
Lucy brought over tea and poured as she gestured for Harper to continue.
Harper sipped on the hot liquid, wondering if she'd done the right thing by sharing, but wanting desperately for some support.
Maybe she just needed a second opinion. Someone on her side.
Someone to tell her that her feelings were normal and okay. "I was seventeen. Totally in love."
"This must've been when Ross and Liam moved to the States. Ian told me about that. That was what ten years ago?"
"Twelve. They were only there for six months or so.
We tried not to like each other because, you know, our parents were together and there was a chance we'd be step siblings.
I don't know... maybe that was part of the attraction.
The fact that we knew we couldn't and shouldn't be together.
Only made me want him more. Anyway, one thing led to another.
He was my first, and the next day they were gone.
No note, no . . .explanation. Just gone. "
"Ouch," Riley said softly.
"Yeah. Never saw him or spoke to him again until the other day. Wasn't sure what I'd find really... And it wasn't to get closure or anything. I mean, it was a long time ago. I'm here for my father, to get something he wanted me to have that Ross' mother also had."
Lucy let out a romantic sigh, her chin perched on her hand.
Riley rolled her eyes. "Please. There is nothing romantic about it, Luc. The guy used her and left without a single word. I take back what I said about him."
"Well, maybe something happened. Like he wanted to and couldn't. You know?" She turned to Harper. "Did he say? When you saw him?"
She shook her head. "No. He told me to go home."
Both women gasped. Riley muttered some choice words and even Lucy let out a curse.
Oddly, Harper wanted to defend him, a small part of her wondering if maybe Lucy was right.
Maybe something had gone wrong. "It was weird, though," she admitted.
"He seemed to think I was the one who broke his heart. Not the other way around."
They frowned. "That is weird," Lucy said. "Maybe you should confront him. Ask him for the truth. Or his version of it anyway."
Harper nodded. "Maybe." Sounded reasonable, but what if there was some explanation? What then? That possibility made her stomach clench.
"Doesn't seem like something Ross would do." Lucy got up to finish making the sandwiches. "Then again, at that age... You were both very young."
Harper pushed away from the table and helped Lucy pack the basket.
"So why are you so put out with Jamie?" Lucy asked Riley.
Riley let out a disgusted snort. "He wants to climb mountains."
"That doesn't sound so bad," Harper said carefully, closing the basket.
"It does if you're missing a leg."
"Jamie lost his leg in combat," Lucy explained, then turned her attention to her cousin. "And you're not mad at him, Riley. You're worried. Big difference."
"Well, it's easier to be mad." A sigh escaped Riley's lips. "I want him to climb mountains. I want him to fulfill every damn dream he has. But there are two of us now, another person to take into consideration. And where does that leave me. Home worried sick, that's where."
"So go with him," Harper said, immediately cringing at her quick words and hoping she hadn't overstepped.
The room went quiet. Lucy stopped cleaning up the counter to stare at Riley as Riley looked a little taken aback. Slowly a smile grew on Lucy's face. "She's a freaking genius."
"I am?" Harper said, confused.
Lucy nodded and then focused on Riley. "Go with him. It's perfect." She turned to Harper. "You know what Riley does for a living? She's a travel writer."
Oh. Well, it was the perfect scenario then, wasn't it? Although Riley might hate mountain climbing. She could prefer writing about luxury destinations, high end hotels, spas, and stuff like that. Training and hiking up some mountain might not be her thing at all.
"I . . . Huh," Riley said, lost in thought. "I could do a whole series of articles... We could train together, plan, see some of the world before having a family..." She looked at Harper thoughtfully. "Thanks for the suggestion."
"Anytime."
Lucy pulled the basket off the counter and handed it to Harper. "Let us know how it goes."
"All I want is what I came for," Harper said. "If I can get that, drinks are on me."
"Deal," Lucy and Riley said.
As Harper left the kitchen, she overheard Riley say in a knowing tone, "She's going to get way more than she came for."
Whatever.
Harper wasn't interested in clearing the air with Ross.
It simply didn't matter. No. They'd go through his mother's office in the distillery, find the notebook, and be done with it.
Ross could go back to creating his labels and she could go back to...
She paused at the front door. Go back to what?
Her father was gone. Dean's was all but gone.
Her mother had never been in her life. She had no brothers or sisters.
Feeling a little sorry for herself, Harper pushed through the front door.
But she quickly dispelled the woeful feelings. She could look at things with a defeated attitude or she could look at the future as a blank slate. And who knows, maybe she'd learn the art of bourbon-making after all. Follow in her father's footsteps...
By the time she made it to the abandoned distillery, she was hot and out of breath.
The picnic basket had grown heavier and her arm was aching. She wished she'd chosen shorts instead of jeans. But then jeans were far better for going through old boxes in an abandoned building.
Blowing a strand of hair from her face, she headed for the stone building that still had lettering on the wooden door, indicating it had housed the offices of the old Balmorie Distillery.
She pushed open the door with her hip, figuring Ross must already be inside, and no doubt irritated by her late arrival.
"I'm back here," he called, hearing the old door creak. "Come on back."
The sexy, rough brogue caused a flutter in her stomach. She sighed, acknowledging the effect that potent voice had on her. No point in denying it. She'd just have to deal with it and not let his voice or the man himself get to her.
She followed the main hallway to an open door and went inside.
Ross stood on a large wooden desk, which had been shoved against a tall bookcase in order to reach several file boxes that were stacked along the top.
His arms were outstretched as he reached for one, his T-shirt—dusty and sporting a few streaks of dirt—rode up, revealing smooth skin.
His shirt sleeves rode up too, giving her a nice view of his arms, biceps flexing under hard muscles.
She rolled her eyes and set the basket on the corner of a nearby table. The entire office was crammed with stuff. Boxes, papers, files, crates. This was going to be more time consuming than she'd expected.
"You're late," he said, pulling a box down and then facing her, clearly unhappy with her tardiness as she suspected.
Harper drummed her fingers on the picnic basket, drawing his gaze. His expression changed completely. "Is that food?"
Apparently, Riley and Lucy knew what they were talking about. "Yeah. You want to eat first? How long have you been here?"
"About an hour," he answered, setting the box on the desk and jumping to the floor.
Her pulse leapt as he moved forward and she tried not to imagine running her hands over those wide shoulders in welcome, feeling the contrast of the soft cotton of his shirt with the hard muscle beneath, or running her fingers through his black hair and making the short waves a rumpled, sexy mess.
"Harper?" A sharp tone cut through her fantasy.
She blinked. "What?"
He towered in front of her. "I said it's fine with me to eat now if you're hungry."
"Oh. Um." Heat filled her cheeks. Damn it.
"Yeah." A little dazed, she opened the basket, grabbed a wrapped sandwich and shoved it at him.
"Here." He took it, a flash of confusion crossing his face at her rigid tone as she walked around him and surveyed the office—anything rather than deal with him.
"Have you gone through this stack here?" she asked, gesturing to a stack of four boxes in the corner.
"Not yet. The ones against the wall I've done already. You're not hungry?"
She kept her back to him and bent over the top box, opening the lid. "I'll eat in a little while..."
After a few seconds, she glanced over her shoulder as Ross bit into the sandwich with unapologetic hunger.
Annoyed, she returned to the box and began methodically going through the contents.
For God's sake, how could eating a sandwich be sexy?
The low hum of approval he gave made her look again to see his cheeks filled and his jaw working, his eyes closed.
"Lucy is awesome," he muttered in adoration.
Whatever. Where was her thanks? She'd helped. Not that he would know that.
When his thirsty gulps from one of the waters reached her, it was all Harper could do to stay on task.
"What the hell is this?"
Ross held up a napkin cut out to resemble a heart. When he pulled it open it made a chain of four. His brow rose, one black eyebrow going slightly higher than the other as he stared at her as though she'd had something to do with it.
She was going to murder Lucy. Or Riley. Standing, she blew a strand of hair from her face. "Hell if I know. Lucy made the basket," she said, defensively, not admitting her part in helping. "Maybe she gave me the wrong one or something."
Looking further, Ross pulled out a familiar wrapper and held it up between two fingers, unable to suppress his grin.
Oh my God. She was going to die. A condom? A freaking condom?
"Like I said, wrong basket. Obviously." She was going to more than murder. She'd torture first.
Ross shoved the condom in the front pocket of his jeans, which only made her face grow hotter. He said nothing, but continued staring with that irritating grin of his.
Heat crept up her neck and if this damn strand of hair didn't stay out of her face, she was going to yank it out. Irritated, Harper blew at it again with a loud huff.
"Stop doing that."
"Stop doing what?"
He made a wild gesture with his hand. "That...
thing with your hair. Tuck it behind your ear.
" He crumpled the heart napkin and chucked it in a nearby trash can, looking as irritated as she felt.
Though why the state of her hair would annoy him, she didn't know.
Whatever. She undid her messy twist—because that strand was bothering the crap out of her, not because it bothered Ross—and wound her hair into a tight bun and knotted it. "There. Happy now?"
His eyes went narrow. "Not really." Then he turned and strode out the door.
What the hell?
Harper stood there for a long moment, trying to figure out what had just happened. She was itching for a fight, but not really sure why.
As much as she wanted to go after him and have it out, she stayed put. Mostly, out of fear. Fear of what would come to light if she did. Lucy's words had wormed their way into her mind. What if Ross leaving twelve years ago wasn't what she always believed it to be?
What if Lucy was right?