by Brenda Novak
“Not only that. He needs Uriah too badly to leave, doesn’t have any way to support himself.”
“He could get a job, couldn’t he?”
“Even if he could, there’s no way he’d be able to keep it.”
“So...what are you going to do when he shows up?” She was a little worried herself, and didn’t want Tobias to get himself into trouble.
He sighed audibly. “I’m not sure it’s my place to do anything. That’s the problem. I don’t want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. If Uriah wants to make peace with his son, that’s his choice. But I doubt Carl will ever change, so having him here won’t lead to anything good.”
“It’s hard for a parent to give up.”
When he didn’t respond, she thought maybe he was thinking, It wasn’t hard for my parents. She knew he hadn’t had an easy childhood. He’d said a few things about it since they’d met, but he hadn’t given many details, and he didn’t bring it up now.
“You don’t think there’s any chance that what happened tonight will just...blow over?” she asked.
“It might,” he replied. “For a while. But something else will happen later. That’s the thing. Carl only cares about Carl. And now that his mother, Uriah’s wife, is gone, Uriah doesn’t have anyone to protect, so I don’t see him taking the necessary steps to make Carl stay away.”
“He’ll set aside his own needs and safety to keep trying to help his son.”
“Yes.”
She hadn’t had the chance to speak to Uriah for more than a few minutes, but she’d gotten the same impression—that Uriah was so concerned about his son he wasn’t willing to send him away again. When Tobias expressed his fears, Uriah minimized them, which was partly why Tobias was feeling so helpless in his concern. “How long have you known Uriah?” she asked.
“Since I moved here five months ago.”
“You seem close, even though you haven’t been in town all that long.”
“We’ve played hours and hours of chess and done a lot of things around the orchard. You get to know someone pretty fast when you spend that much time with him.”
“True.” She adjusted the comforter. “Tobias?”
He seemed distracted. “What?”
“Would it be easier for you to get through the night if you took me home? It’s been generous of you to offer me your friendship, but I don’t want to become a nuisance.”
He turned around and leaned against the counter, which meant she was once again confronted with his bare chest. “Do you want to go home?”
She should want to leave. But, strangely enough, she didn’t, despite the disruption Carl had caused. “No. I like being here, with you. You make me feel... I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Good, I guess. You make me feel good.”
He didn’t thank her or return the compliment, but he didn’t need to. She could tell that he liked her, too, just by the expression on his face.
The silence stretched for so long that her heart started to thump in her chest. Was his pulse racing, too? She couldn’t help admiring how attractive he was; she’d have to be blind not to see it.
She cleared her throat. “I think it’s because you don’t have any expectations,” she said, elaborating just to fill the room with sound and ease the tension. “You take what comes, don’t try to force anything or examine people too closely. I like that. It’s...liberating for those around you, if that makes sense.”
“I’ve learned not to expect too much,” he said, but before she could question him on what, specifically, he was referring to, he added, “Go into my bedroom and get some sleep. Morning will be here before you know it.”
“What will you do?” she asked.
“I’ll hang out here, maybe watch some TV.”
She sat up, pulling the bedding with her. “Let’s watch together.”
“There’s no need for you to stay up.”
“I’ve got the whole week to myself. I’m not worried about getting enough sleep. We can always take a nap later, if we want to.”
He hesitated. “Are you seriously planning to stay all week?”
She shrugged. “Why not? But only if it’s okay with you. I’ll tell you what—I’ll stay as long as you want me here.”
“I doubt you’ll stay that long,” he muttered, but he walked over, turned on the TV and sat on the far end of the couch with the remote in his hand.
“Do you have Netflix or any movie channels?” she asked.
“I do. What would you like to watch?”
They agreed on a psychological thriller. Then she gathered up the bedding, slid closer to him and put the comforter around them both.
* * *
When Tobias woke up, light was streaming through the kitchen window, the only window without a blind, and the TV was off. He couldn’t remember turning it off, but he figured he must have—until he grew alert enough to realize he wasn’t alone. Harper hadn’t gone into the bedroom after the movie ended. She was right there, snuggled up against him, her head on his shoulder.
He needed to change his position. His foot had gone to sleep. But he was reluctant to move. Her hand rested on his bare chest and her leg was slung over his.
There wasn’t any other way for them to fit on the narrow couch, so he told himself not to get too excited. It probably didn’t mean a whole lot. But her openness and trust were even more intoxicating than the weight of her pressing him into the cushions.
His arm tightened around her as the desire to kiss her rose inside him. He’d kissed quite a few girls when he was a kid. Since he’d had little adult supervision, and he’d seen his mother making out so many times and with so many different men, he’d become sexually aware early. But he hadn’t been with many women since being released from prison. He’d decided he needed to heal first, get on his feet so he’d have something to offer a partner. And if he ever wanted to be liked in this place, he had to be careful. Otherwise, his actions would reflect poorly on his brother—and Aiyana Turner, since she’d been kind enough to give him a job. So there was that, too.
Besides, he’d known that getting involved too soon, or with the wrong person, could destroy his peace of mind quicker than anything else. He’d seen it happen with his mother far too many times. So after breaking things off with Tonya, he’d been with only one other woman in the past five months—a one-night stand he’d later regretted. After calling him incessantly for three weeks, the woman had shown up out of the blue, despite what he’d already told her on the phone, and wound up sobbing on his front doorstep when he had to reiterate that he wasn’t interested in continuing the relationship.
Harper stirred and raised her head. As soon as she saw that he was awake, their eyes met, and when she moved her leg, he knew she could feel his erection.
He held his breath, waiting to see how she’d react. He thought she should get off him and move away in a hurry. Being so close to her, and in this particular position, he wasn’t feeling much self-control.
But she didn’t.
That was sort of an invitation, wasn’t it?
He lowered his gaze to her lips. Surely one kiss couldn’t hurt.
Halfway hoping she’d stop him, he lifted his free hand to caress her cheek. It would be so easy to get lost in her and in what he was feeling in this moment.
Gently stroking the back of her head, he touched his lips to hers—but just barely. He still wasn’t convinced he should allow himself to take this liberty. Things he couldn’t resist were usually things he should resist. They always got him into trouble. But when her eyes closed, he knew there was no point in debating with himself. If she liked this as much as he did, he’d already lost the battle.
The warmth of her mouth sent a burning sensation through him like a shot of the best whiskey. Instinctively, his fingers delved into her thick, silky hair, and she shifted until she was compl
etely astride him.
The pressure made him grow even harder, and he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue meet and move against hers. He was tempted to peel off her sweatshirt and take this to the next level right away. His fingers itched to touch her bare skin and to bring her naked body against his.
He might’ve acted on the impulse. What had started out as a somewhat tentative exploration was quickly growing into a breathless, hungry frenzy. They couldn’t seem to kiss each other deeply enough to satisfy—until the doorknob rattled.
Someone was trying to come in.
Harper heard it, too. She sat up, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to catch her breath. “Are you expecting company?” she gasped.
He didn’t get the chance to answer before he heard, “Tobias? Where are you? Since when did you start locking the damn door?”
“It’s my brother,” he whispered and they both scrambled off the couch. “Would you rather hide in the bedroom so he doesn’t see you, or...”
“I guess.” She hurried to gather up the bedding. “Probably best to keep rumors in town to a minimum. My sister and brother-in-law live here, after all.”
He was helping Harper fill her arms with the comforter and pillows when the door swung open. Maddox used to live in the house before marrying Jada. Tobias had forgotten he still had a key.
Harper and Maddox froze when they saw each other, and Tobias winced. “It didn’t occur to you that the door was locked for a reason?” he asked his brother.
Maddox blinked several times. “Sorry, I didn’t expect... You’ve never mentioned a... I should’ve waited,” he finished lamely and glanced back at the door, which was standing open since he’d been too shocked to bother closing it. “Should I go now? Or do I at least get an introduction?”
Tobias rubbed his forehead with three fingers. Although he didn’t want Harper to suffer any backlash for being with him, he wasn’t worried about that right now. He knew his brother wouldn’t say anything to anyone, except maybe Jada, who’d be just as discreet. He was more concerned about the warnings his brother would voice when they were alone later. While class and station had never mattered less in their society than they did now, it was still a problem for an ex-con to want someone like Harper. “Maybe I can call you later,” he said to his brother.
“Okay...” Maddox turned to go but Harper stopped him.
“No, you can stay,” she said and, after setting the bedding aside, made one failed attempt to smooth down her hair before holding out her hand. “I’m Harper.”
She didn’t provide her last name and Tobias could easily guess why, but that didn’t give her the anonymity she craved. Maddox’s eyebrows slid up. “Not Harper Devlin...”
Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin. “Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“Axel Devlin’s wife,” Maddox clarified.
“Ex-wife,” she corrected him. “My divorce will be final tomorrow.”
“That’s a relief. I mean, I—I’m sorry... Divorces are rough,” he finished, still obviously off center.
“Yes, they are,” she agreed.
“I didn’t realize you knew my brother. Or, rather, that he knew you.”
“We met at the Eatery the other night.”
“That’s a good restaurant.” He scratched his neck. “Well...welcome to Silver Springs. I hope you like the area.”
“Thank you. I do. It’s lovely here.”
“How’d you know Axel Devlin’s wife was in town?” Tobias asked.
“Are you kidding?” Maddox replied. “I’m the principal of a girls’ school, remember? She’s all I’ve heard about for the past week.”
“Maddox works at the same school I do,” Tobias explained to Harper.
“I work on the girls’ side, and Tobias works on the girls’ and boys’ sides, but we see each other often,” Maddox said, elaborating.
The way Harper folded her arms across her chest gave Tobias the impression that she was somewhat self-conscious about her appearance. “Then it’s a good thing you two get along.”
Maddox’s gaze shifted between them. Tobias could tell he was assuming they’d slept together. Tobias was still in his jeans and Harper had on her sweats, but he was shirtless, they were both barefoot and their hair was mussed—not to mention she’d been holding the bedding when he arrived as though she was eager to stash the evidence.
Hoping to shield her, Tobias stepped between them. “I’d offer you breakfast, but...”
Fortunately, Maddox got the point. “Right. No. I’ve got a lot to do today, anyway. I just... I wanted to tell you something.”
The now somber tone of Maddox’s voice piqued Tobias’s interest. He knew when his brother had something important to say. “What’s that?”
“Uriah’s son was picked up for a DUI last night.”
Tobias wasn’t surprised. The only surprise was that his brother would know about the incident before he did. “Did Uriah call you or—”
“No. He wasn’t even aware of it until I told him a few minutes ago.”
“What happened?”
“Carl ran a red light and nearly T-boned Atticus.”
The mention of Atticus made Tobias stand taller. He remembered his conversation with Maya at the cookie store and what he planned to do for her other uncle—if Atticus wanted to hike Yosemite as she claimed. He’d been so distracted by Harper he hadn’t thought of a way to approach Atticus about it yet, but he still wanted to. “Is Atticus okay?”
“He’s fine. They didn’t actually collide. But Atticus crashed into a parked car when he veered away and had to call me to come get him. He didn’t want to wake his mother and upset her.”
“Where is he now?”
“At home, I guess. That’s where I took him. A tow came for his truck. It’s not drivable at the moment but should be fixed in a week or so.”
“Carl’s insurance will cover it?”
“If he has coverage. Otherwise, Atticus’s will kick in.”
So Atticus wouldn’t lose his autonomy. That also came as a relief. Since his vehicle was equipped with hand controls and a lift for his wheelchair, it wasn’t as though it would be as easy to replace as a regular pickup, so he was glad it could be repaired. “What happened to Carl? Anything?”
“Not a scratch. The cops came, took him to jail and impounded his vehicle.”
“And now?”
“I assume he’s still in jail, since Uriah didn’t know what happened until I told him.”
Tobias shoved his hands in his pockets. “How’d he take the news?” He’d been trying to talk some sense into the old man last night. He thought this incident might help, but he knew it would also be disappointing for Uriah to hear.
Maddox sighed. “He took it as well as could be expected.”
“I don’t want Carl coming back here,” Tobias said. “He doesn’t treat his father right, and he can’t control his temper. I’m afraid something really bad will happen.” Something far worse than what had already happened—both to Uriah and to Atticus—last night.
“Well, if Uriah will listen to anyone, he’ll listen to you. He loves you like a second son.” Maddox’s gaze shifted back to Harper. “I’m sorry to barge in like I did, but it was very nice meeting you.”
She smiled even though Tobias could tell she was still a little uncomfortable. “No problem,” she said. “You, too.”
Tobias followed his brother out onto the stoop, so he was the only one who saw the incredulous look Maddox shot him—a look that said, Holy shit! Harper Devlin?
“I’ll call you later,” Tobias said.
Maddox stepped off the stoop, but Tobias called him back. “And, if you don’t mind, I’ll take my extra key now.”
A look of chagrin came over Maddox’s face as he retrieved it from his pocket. “Right. Here you go. Sorry about tha
t.”
Tobias had to smile as his brother walked down the drive. He went back in prepared to apologize for the intrusion, but Harper didn’t seem upset. “Your brother is almost as handsome as you are,” she said when he’d closed the door.
“Are you kidding me? He’s nowhere near as handsome as I am!” he joked, and she laughed.
Tobias thought of the kiss Maddox had interrupted but was more relieved than he was upset. Harper wasn’t in a position to start a relationship. He wasn’t the right person to start one with. And she wasn’t the type of woman who could just knock him off balance; she could completely wreck him, and he knew it. He’d been sailing along fairly nicely the past few months. He didn’t want to crash and flounder on the rocks. He’d made enough mistakes in his life, and he’d paid a heavy price. “I’ll make eggs and toast. Sound good?”
“Yeah, I’m hungry. Do you have any coffee?”
“I do. Starting it now.”
She lifted the blind on the living room window and peered out. “The rain has cleared up.”
“Great. What would you like to do today?”
She picked up her phone and tapped the screen. “I need to check in with my sister and my girls.”
“And then...”
“Then I’m up for anything—anything that means I won’t have time to think.”
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “So it’s still my job to provide a distraction?”
She studied him for a moment. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Good. Because you’re proving to be quite adept at it.”
He was pretty sure she was referring to what had happened on the couch. He was afraid that if they stayed at his place, they’d simply wind up in a similar situation—and might not be interrupted the next time. “Let’s get out of here. Drive over to the coast.”
She carried the sheets and blankets into the bedroom.
“Harper?” he called when she made no comment.
“Yes?”
He’d dragged out a frying pan, then put it on the stove and went to peer into the bedroom. “What do you think? Do you want to go over to the coast? Santa Barbara’s only about forty-five minutes away.”