by Lacey Black
“What the hell was that for?” she gasps, turning dark eyes on me.
I throw her a smirk and reach for a fresh towel. “Because you liked it so much when I did it the first time.”
Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t respond. Yeah, she liked that little bite of pain when I smacked her ass. I’ll have to remember that later, when she’s on all fours and I’m taking her from behind. My cock jumps with anticipation, and my eyes watch as she heads out of the room, a little extra shake to her hips and my handprint on her ass.
My Harper likes to play.
And I’m definitely up for some games.
* * *
“I should go,” Harper yawns, her head resting on my shoulder as we watch a late-night talk show.
“You should stay.” It’s already after ten.
“I need to let Snuggles out one more time before bed,” she adds, yet to make one move for her clothes. We’re currently sitting on the couch, me in a pair of basketball shorts and her in my T-shirt.
“Why don’t we go get her and bring her back here?” I offer before I even realize the insinuation. The fact I imply she’s spending the night isn’t lost on me, and probably not her either. “You can pack an overnight bag too.”
Her blue eyes search my face, probably trying to figure out what that means. “Don’t overthink it. I’m not saying you’re moving in, just I wouldn’t mind having you in my bed tonight.” My hand wanders down to her ass, slipping easily under my tee and stroking the smarted flesh. She doesn’t flinch, but I know it must be tender from earlier. I learned a few solid slaps on her ass sends my girl into a frenzy – especially when she’s riding my dick.
“Then I’d have to take her home in the morning before work. I can’t take her to the shop. She’s not so gentle with delicates.”
“Then she can stay with me. Dale is on tomorrow and he loves dogs. She’ll be able to go out with me when I’m in the lumberyard. It’ll be fun.” And as soon as I say the words, I realize I mean them. I kinda want that ugly mutt hanging out with me.
“You’re joking, right? Fun? She’s still a puppy. She likes to chew and bark and jump.”
“Come on, Mom. Let us have a playdate.”
Her eyes narrow as she watches me. “Fine, but when she’s driving you nuts by noon, you’re not bringing her over to me. You have her all day,” she reminds, as if that would be a hardship.
“Fine,” I reply, clapping my hands together in victory. “Let’s go get her,” I add leaning closer to her ear. “Then, we’ll come back here and I’ll fuck you until you’re boneless and exhausted.”
She shivers and her eyes dilate. It’s the only indication she gives that my words have any effect on her. “Let’s see if you can keep up, buddy,” she sasses, hopping up off the couch and strutting over to her clothes to dress.
I throw on a T-shirt and sandals, anxious to go retrieve her stuff and her dog. As we’re heading out the door, her cell phone rings. “Hmm, it’s awfully late for Jensen to call,” she says as she brings it to her ear. “Hello?”
As we reach the bottom of the stairs, I notice the way her car is haphazardly parked in the alley. I also notice the paper slipped under windshield wiper. My face breaks out in an immediate grin, especially because I realize this little twist is going to piss her off. And if there’s one thing I love, it’s a pissed-off Harper Grayson.
“Seriously? Why is she being so difficult? It’s not like this hasn’t been planned for weeks.” I glance her way and reach for the ticket, holding it up so she can see. Her face goes from shock to anger as she mouths, “You’re paying for that,” at me. “Yes, I’m here. Bring him by after work. We’ll go for pizza and then I’ll feed him ice cream and cookies until he passes out in a sugar coma.” Harper smiles at whatever response her brother gives. “Perfect. See you tomorrow.”
Then, she hangs up and points her phone at me as if it were a weapon. “Seriously, you’re paying that ticket.”
“Why am I paying for it?” I ask, reaching out for her keys.
“Because you’re the reason I left my car in the alley like this.”
“I didn’t tell you to illegally park. This isn’t my fault.”
“Totally your fault. Why are you grabbing my keys? I’m driving.”
“Not happening, Harper. There’s no way I’m stuffing myself in your tiny sparkly car. I’ll move it and we’ll take my truck,” I say, climbing into the driver’s seat, noticing the glitter fucking everywhere. “Besides, I’ve seen how you park.” Her eyes flare with anger as I shut the door and pull her car over to one of the many parking spots behind the hardware store.
“You’re cleaning that too, by the way,” she states as I swipe all the sparkles from my backside, trying not to grin as I meet her at my truck.
“What?” I ask, losing the battle to not laugh.
“You’re an asshole.” Her eyes flare as I meet her at the passenger door. “You’re vacuuming my car. First thing in the morning,” she sasses, grabbing the door handle and getting ready to jump in.
“What did Jensen want?” I ask, helping her into the double cab.
“Oh, his ex is being a twit again. They’ve been planning his buddy Parker’s bachelor party for weeks. Ashley was supposed to keep Max tomorrow night, even though it’s Jensen’s weekend. Now, she’s causing problems, saying she wants to take him out of town for the weekend if she keeps him tomorrow. Mom is working tomorrow night, and even though she’d keep him, it’s harder on her to run the bed and breakfast while it’s full and take care of Max. Rhenn and Marissa already have a night out planned, so that leaves me.”
“And Samuel.”
“No one wants their kid babysat by Samuel. He’d probably have them studying human anatomy or reading Shakespeare by the end of the night,” she says as I pull onto the main road.
“So, you’re watching Max.”
“Cool Aunt Harper’s got this. We’ll go have pizza and stay up way past his bedtime.” I can hear the excitement in her voice, and a piece of me yearns to experience that.
“What if awesome friend Latham comes too?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road, but watching her body language in my peripheral.
She shrugs. “That would be all right too.”
Not what I was expecting. I was ready for a fight, but she seemed way too accommodating to my self-invite. “How about I pick you both up at six?”
“We could meet you there,” she suggests.
“Well, I will have your dog, so I could stop by and drop her off. Pick you and the little guy up and take you for pizza.” Seems logical.
Harper thinks about it for a few seconds before agreeing. “You can’t stay the night, though.”
“Can’t handle me two nights in a row, huh? That’s fine. You’ll need your rest.”
I can practically feel her rolling her eyes in the seat next to me. “Whatever. I don’t want to confuse him as to who you are and why you’re sleeping in Aunt Harper’s bed.”
Makes sense, but that still doesn’t stop the tinge of longing from bursting in my chest. There’s something about going to bed beside Harper and waking up next to her that has all sorts of weird hope and elation taking root in my chest. I never really saw myself as a family man, but the concept holds a bit of merit. Especially if the woman in the picture is Harper.
I don’t say anything else as I pull in her driveway. Before I can help her out, she’s already climbing from the truck cab and leading me toward the door. I can hear doggy nails on the hardwood floor before she even has the screen door open, and I’m surprised at how excited I am to see the ugly mutt.
As soon as she’s through the door, Harper crouches down and lets Snuggles rain puppy kisses all over her face. Then, as if flipping the switch, the dog sees me standing behind her. She instantly jumps up, her little legs slipping on the floor as she barrels toward me. Her tongue hangs out and in her excitement to get to me, I see a trail of wetness on the floor.
“Gross, Snuggles!” Harper bello
ws as she watches her dog pee a little from excitement.
“Huh, someone must have Saran Wrapped her toilet seat too.” Bending down, I let the dog lick and sniff me as I rub that magical spot behind her ears. “Let’s go outside,” I tell the pup, even though she probably doesn’t have to go much now.
“You’re cleaning that up,” Harper chastises, standing up and placing her hands firmly on her hips.
“I’m practically a pro at cleaning up pee off the floor anyway,” I holler, heading to the back door. “Go pack a bag. I’ll take care of getting Snuggles ready for our road trip.” By the time Harper returns with an overnight bag, I have the piss cleaned up and the dog food, bowls, and leash in a bag. “Ready?”
She glances around, sees the bag of dog supplies and her anxious puppy at my feet, and offers a smile. “Ready.”
With that, we’re off to our little sleepover.
Like a family.
Which makes my heart sing.
Chapter Nineteen
Harper
I can smell the coffee the moment I step out of the bathroom. Forgetting all about the towel wrapped around my head, I follow my nose through the tiny apartment. Latham is leaning against the counter, his work jeans hanging dangerously low on his hips and looking totally doable in a well-worn Douglas Hardware T-shirt and work boots. Snuggles clearly thinks so too, since she’s sitting at his feet, practically panting with excitement.
“Morning,” he says, his voice deep and rich. It’s like a direct line to my panties.
“Good morning,” I reply, taking the towel off my head and meeting him at the coffeepot. He pours a cup for me and passes the milk and sugar. “Thanks,” I say before taking my first sip.
“Your phone was ringing a few minutes ago,” he says, nodding toward the counter where both of our phones are charging.
Not a lot of people call me before seven in the morning, so my heart rate kicks up a few beats per minute with worry. When I see the name on the screen, a different form of worry slides down my spine. “It was Mandy, my realtor. I wonder what she wanted so early in the morning?” I question aloud, watching to gauge his reaction.
“Not sure, but you should probably call her back,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the counter, giving nothing away.
“Hey, Mandy, it’s Harper. Sorry I missed your call.”
“It’s okay. Sorry to call so early, but I was heading to the gym and trying to get a few things crossed off my list.”
“No worries. What’s up?”
“I heard from my aunt. She’s making her final decision on the bids Monday. She promised to call me as soon as she decides which one she’s going with.”
“Really? She didn’t say which way she’s leaning or who the other is?” I glance over my shoulder to Latham, but find him crouching on the worn linoleum, giving Snuggles a little rubdown. I can tell he’s listening, though. I can practically see his ear turned my way and tuned in.
“No, sorry. I tried to get it out of her, but she refused. My uncle is coming down this weekend and is supposed to help her make the decision. So whatever you’re going to do, do it fast.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, looking out the window at Main Street below.
“Kiss up to her. She loves flowers and cheap red wine. Anything to help you get a leg up over the competition.”
“Good idea,” I reply, glancing back over my shoulder at Latham. This time, he’s looking right at me, and I swear he can hear both sides of the conversation and not just mine.
“I’ll talk to you as soon as I know more,” she says before signing off.
I hang up the phone and turn back to the kitchen. “Everything all right?” he asks, his gait still casual as he leans against the counter and sips hot coffee.
“Fine,” I reply, shoving my phone into the pocket of my capris.
He watches me for several seconds before asking, “Are you in the market for real estate? I thought you owned your home?”
This is where I have a choice. I can tell him about the building next door and call him out on being the other bidder, or I could give him an opening to come clean himself. While option one could potentially result in my twisting his balls until he cries for his mama, it’s option two that I go with. “No, no home. I do own my home, and have the monthly mortgage payment to prove it. I’ve been considering…investing.”
Latham nods. “Investing in real estate is a good idea, if you’ve got the capital. There are plenty of good homes in the area you could get for cheap, flip, and sell for profit.”
Not exactly what I was going for. Do I just come out and ask about the building next door? See if the other bidder is, in fact, Latham? Before I can ask, his phone rings. He takes the call, disappearing into the bedroom, my dog hot on his heels. I want to follow, eavesdrop by the doorway, but I don’t. As much as I really want to, I don’t snoop on his conversation.
Instead, I head into the bathroom and flip on the hair dryer. I mentally run through my day, which will end with a pizza date with Latham and my nephew. Free will be coming in this afternoon and on Saturday, so I’m hoping to slip out for a little bit and pay a quick visit to Mrs. Morton. Flowers and cheap red wine, huh? I think I can manage that. Then, I’ll have time to go home and meet my brother with Max, and wait for Latham to pick us up.
Satisfied with my afternoon plans, I flip off the dryer and set it on top of my bag. Latham steps up to the doorway, leaning against the aged, scarred wood. “That was Dad. The delivery truck we were expecting later this morning is arriving early. I’ve got to go down and get ready to unload a shipment of lumber. You’re welcome to stay until you need to open your store.”
I glance his way, abandoning my makeup bag. “I’m going to head over and get a few things done before I open.”
He nods. “Okay. I’m taking Killer down with me. She can hang with Dad while I’m on the forklift.”
My eyebrows quip upward. “Killer?”
“Way cooler than Snuggles. At least with a badass name like Killer, no one will make fun of her ugly face,” he teases, the corded muscles in his arms flexing as he pushes off the door frame.
“You can’t just rename my dog!”
“Sure I can. She likes Killer better, anyway. Don’t you, Killer?” he asks, dropping down to one knee and giving her a pet behind the ears. Snuggles’ eyes roll around in her head, and I’m pretty sure she’d agree with just about any name he gave her, as long as he continued to rub her down like that.
“You’re impossible,” I mumble.
“Give Mama a kiss, Killer. Tell her you’ll see her later, after you spend the day with me and Grandpa Bud.”
My heart slams against my chest, beating so loudly, I’m sure everyone within a one-block radius can hear. Mama? Sure, I’ve called myself that. The vet has referred to me as her Mama, but Grandpa Bud? What does that make Latham? Just the very idea of sharing my dog with him, of being tied to him in a way that leaves us both…parents, has my mind all over the place and my breathing erratic.
“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he says, standing before me. I didn’t even see him stand up. Strong arms wrap around my neck as he pulls me into his chest. He smells like woodsy soap and coffee, and I find myself sniffing his shirt a little longer than I should. “We’ll see you in a bit.”
Latham plants a quick, hard kiss on my lips, leaving me full of anticipation and yearning, and heads out the door, my dog happily trotting behind. I’m left wondering what in the hell just happened?
Without me even realizing, Latham Douglas, jerk extraordinaire, has wormed his way into my heart. He’s stolen my sanity and my dog, and effortlessly, positioned himself right smack dab in the middle of my life. Do I need him? Probably not. I don’t need any man. Do I want him?
That’s a big hell to the yes.
As I think about the building sitting vacant between his store and my own, I know that right there is the problem.
I shouldn’t want him.
&
nbsp; But I do.
God help me, I really do.
* * *
After Free arrives, I inform her I’m running errands and slip out the back door. My car is still parked beside Latham’s truck, a sight that actually makes my heart beat a little faster. There’s something so…comforting about having his vehicle next to mine.
Ignoring the longing that tries to settle in my chest, I hop in my car, pleasantly surprised to see much of the glitter particles cleaned up, and head toward the grocery store. It’s busier than anticipated for a Friday afternoon, and I get stopped several times with greetings of hello and to talk of the warm summer weather. When I finally have a fresh bouquet of yellow and white blooms and a bottle of red wine (middle of the road in price – I just couldn’t see myself buying the four dollar bottle), I head to the counter to pay for my purchases. As the cashier is swiping the wine, I spy a few bags of freshly made caramels. I decide to throw in a few of the sweet treats, hand over the cash, and return to my car.
It only takes me a few minutes to get to Mrs. Morton’s place. I pull up in front and park on the street, letting the sun warm my skin as I slide out. My hand is eager as I knock on the door, the sounds of a cheesy daytime soap opera blaring through the closed door.
When the door opens, Mrs. Morton looks just as annoyed this time around as she did last week. “Good afternoon,” I coo, cheerfully.
“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. Go away. You’re interrupting my show,” she says, starting to shut the door in my face.
“It’s Harper Grayson, Mrs. Morton. I stopped by last week. Do you remember me?” I ask, handing her the flowers, wine, and caramels.
The old woman looks me over carefully with a disapproving eye, leaving me feeling a little out of sorts once more. “Oh, yes, Hailey, I remember.”