Chapter 4
Four
THE FRONT DOOR SHUT, the dead bolt clicked, the chain rattled, then Christian and Deck entered the living room.
Harper took in the deep, pinched lines at the corner of Deckard’s soulful ice-blue eyes and his rigid jaw—clamped so tight she feared his teeth would crack.
Deck allowed very little to affect him, but between the bruises on her face and looking at his father’s, he’d had two surprises in as many days.
“Is he gone?” Riley asked, trepidation in her round blue eyes.
“Yeah.” Christian nodded.
“That wasn’t a wanted Christmas surprise,” she said. “He faked his death? All these years . . . he was . . .” Riley shook her head. “Hiding like a coward while our mom is actually serving time for her horrid acts. Not that it makes her better.”
The muscle in Deck’s jaw flicked. “They’re both—” He cut off his biting words, or so Harper guessed they’d be, and she couldn’t blame him in the least.
Deck’s piercing gaze landed on Grey, who nodded.
Grey rubbed Ri’s arms. “Should we get something hot to drink?”
Her gaze bounced between Deck and Grey, then she took hold of Grey’s hand. “Good idea.”
The moment the pair rounded the hallway, Christian fixed his gaze on Deck. “Thoughts?”
“I think we let it sit for the night, pray over it, and then we can discuss over breakfast. Rushed plans are rarely wise.”
That sounded like a Grey mentoring statement if Harper had ever heard one, but it was wise.
“Good point.” Deck loosened his fists and shook out his hands. “Besides, I owe this lovely lady a milkshake.”
Lovely? She could barely look at her own battered face in the mirror, but he saw through it all enough to call her lovely?
Deck didn’t flatter; he called it like it was.
So he seriously still found her lovely. A twinkle of warmth flitted through her.
“We could just have some of Riley’s peppermint cocoa,” she offered.
He had enough on his mind. He didn’t need to worry about getting her a milkshake.
“Nope. I promised you a milkshake, darlin’, and we only have”—he glanced at his watch—“a half hour left.”
Darlin’ . . . She liked the sound of that coming off his lips.
Riley’s voice emanated from the kitchen on a sob.
“Is she going to be okay?” Harper asked.
“Grey’s got her, and he’s exactly who she needs right now.”
She and Deck raced through the storm and hopped into Deck’s truck.
He cranked up the heat and swished the snow from the windshield.
Soon heat poured out of the vents in waves.
There was so much more she wanted to ask Deck about their dad, but they weren’t forcing questions on her, so she’d return the courtesy.
He reversed, the truck’s wheels slipping on the ice for a second before gaining grip. He shifted it into drive, and they made their way off the ranch to the paved road leading down into Jeopardy Falls. “Cool Whip is tough. She’ll come through this.”
She hoped she’d come through her sorrow too.
Twenty minutes later, they were heading back along the rutted Second Chances Ranch drive, milkshakes in hand—the cold making her colder, but she didn’t care.
Kreger’s peppermint milkshakes were everything she’d hoped they’d be—creamy, thick, and the burning-lung-twinge of peppermint. Best. Milkshake. Ever.
Deck pulled into his parking spot, already sprinkled with thick snowflakes during the short time they’d been in town.
He gave her a soft glance, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
If this were any other moment, if she hadn’t gotten screwed up in Syria, she’d be aching to kiss those lips. Instead, she asked, “What?”
“Nothing.” His smile widened. “I’m just glad you enjoyed the shake.”
She took another sip but only air came. That’d gone fast. He was right. She had enjoyed the treat.
He angled to face her better. “And?”
She arched her brows in a playful motion, feeling happiness for a nice break in the hurt. “And?”
He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “I missed you.”
She hadn’t seen that coming, then the words left her mouth in a whoosh before she realized what she was doing. “I missed you too.” You have no idea how much.
He smiled. “Well,” he said after a long stare that flushed her entire body, “I best get you inside, darlin’.”
She bit her bottom lip at the endearment she far too much liked slipping off his lips, then fought back the blip of pain as her teeth hit a scab.
“You ready?” He held the door handle.
“No.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes. “No?”
“It’s just so pretty out with the snow. Could we sit and watch a little bit?”
“Of course.” But then he cut the ignition, hopped out, and moved around to her side.
She opened the door, and he offered his hand.
“I have an idea.” He smiled.
“Oh?” Curiosity nipped inside her.
Five minutes later, Harper was wrapped in a wool blanket on Deck’s covered porch with him in the rocker beside hers, just as wrapped up as her.
Fluffy snowflakes fluttered in the inky black sky.
“I’m glad you came,” he said.
So was she. If only she’d returned the same person she was when she’d left. “Thanks,” she finally managed. “I am too.” More than he knew. She shifted sideways to face him better, gathered her courage and tried not to mumble. “I was wondering . . .”
“Yeah?” He dipped his head, gesturing for her to continue.
“If . . . if maybe I could stay here for a few more days?” She couldn’t go back to her condo, to the shadow of nightmares haunting her, and her parents’ house was a no-go. Even Andi, while she meant well, couldn’t stall her questions, and the answers were more than Harper could give right now.
“Of course.” He smiled, really smiled. It was addictive. On him.
“Stay here as long as you like. When we head in, I’ll make sure the guest room is still made up for you. Riley will insist I check, then she’ll check up on me to make sure I’ve done it right.” He chuckled.
She wanted to join him, but laughter wouldn’t come. She feared that part of her—the joyful side—had been left on the other side of that raging river, right along with her bravery.