by Lacey Black
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.
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.”
“Harper, actually,” I reply, clearing my throat. “It was such a beautiful day and I was in the neighborhood, I thought I’d drop by for a quick visit.”
“In the middle of my show?”
“Oh, well, I do apologize. I wasn’t aware your show was on at this time. I just wanted to drop off these gorgeous flowers. I thought they’d look amazing in your picture window,” I say, just as I look over and see…flowers.
“Well, a young man stopped by earlier and brought me some. Handpicked them, too,” she says, looking down at my store-bought flowers as if there was something wrong with them.
“Oh. Well, that’s nice of him. Who is he?” I ask, hoping she’ll spill the name and I’d finally have the confirmation I’ve been seeking.
“Logan. Logan somebody. He’s stopped by a few times to say hello. Brought his dog with him today.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “His dog?”
“Yes, ugly little thing. I don’t even remember the name. They took my trash out to the curb so I wouldn’t miss the garbage man again. Always so helpful, that young man.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, as rage starts to stab at my gut like tiny little nails. “What was the dog’s name?”
“Hmmm, let me see,” she says, touching her tiny little chin with her finger. “I don’t know that he said. Or maybe I forgot. Who knows?” she says, offering a touch of a smile.
“Well, I won’t keep you long, Mrs. Morton. I know your show is on. If you need any more help around here this weekend, let me know.”
“Will do, Holly. Thanks for stopping by,” she says, turning to head back inside. “Oh, dear?” she asks, stopping me in my tracks.
“Yes?”
Mrs. Morton hands me the candies. “Will you drop these off at the neighbor’s house? I detest caramel,” she says, taking the wine in one hand and heading off into the house, leaving me standing on the porch. Again.
I growl loudly before turning and stomping down the stairs. This is the second time I’ve been here, and both times I’ve been upstaged by Latham. I know it’s him, even if she got his name wrong. The ugly dog might have been the biggest clue. Plus, I didn’t even get to tell her I was one of the bidders. Now she just thinks I’m some loony person who drops by with random gifts – including caramels, which apparently she doesn’t like.
No way is the neighbor getting these.
I unwrap one and shove the whole piece in my mouth, slowly chewing as I fire up my engine and head back to the store. What the hell am I going to do now? I have dinner plans with Lucifer himself in mere hours, and I have to pretend like I don’t know he’s trying to bid against me for the property between us.
This is what Hell actually feels like.
Well, at least I have caramels…
Chapter Twenty
Latham
I pull up in front of Harper’s house and head around to the passenger seat. I help Killer – AKA Snuggles – out of the seat, who swiftly goes around and sniffs every inch of the front lawn. When she finally finds the patch of grass she’s looking for, she squats and takes care of business, while I grab her small bag of items from the back seat. Weird, I’m a little saddened to drop off the pooch. I’ve kinda become accustomed to having her under my feet all day today.
When she’s completed her business, we head up the steps and knock. Harper answers right away, her earlier work outfit replaced with cutoff denim shorts and a black tank top. My cock is ready to play all of a sudden. “There you are! Did you miss me?” she asks the dog, but it doesn’t stop me from answering.
“Terribly. It was a long day,” I reply, leaning against her doorframe.
Harper rolls her eyes and scratches behind the dog’s ears. “Guess what, Snuggles? Max is in the living room. Let’s go see Max!” she coos, speaking in that weird baby-talk voice.
The dog takes off, nails clipping hard on the floor, and barrels into the cutest blond-haired, blue-eyed little boy. Max shrieks as the dog licks his face, smiling and laughing as she jumps on his lap. “Hi, Snuggles!” he giggles, trying to pet the happy pup.
“Max, are you hungry?” Harper asks, watching with a fond smile on her face as the dog continues his tongue assault.
“Yes! Pizza!” Max hoots, pushing Snuggles off his lap and jumping up. That’s when he spies me in the room.
“This is my friend, Latham. Latham, this is the coolest four-year-old ever, my nephew, Max.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Max,” I say, crouching down to his level and sticking out my hand. He seems to check me out with a critical eye before sliding his very small hand in my own and giving it a shake. “Do you like pizza?” I ask, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“Yep!”
“Then, how about we head over to Pizza Castle and have some dinner?” I ask, watching as his head bobbles up and down with enthusiasm.
“Can Snuggles come too?” he asks his aunt, heading toward the front door.
“No, Snuggles can’t come with us to a restaurant. They don’t allow dogs in places you eat,” she tells him, as she grabs her purse and gets ready to lock up.
“That’s dumb! Why would they not let dogs come too? Dogs are people too, Aunt Harper!”
“I agree with you one-hundred-percent, little man, but the health department says no.” Before she can take the booster seat from the table, I grab it and hold open the door.
“Bye, Snuggles! I’ll see you when we get back,” the little boy says, waving at the saddened puppy.
“She already went to the bathroom. She’ll be fine for an hour or so,” I tell Harper as we step outside and secure the door behind us.
“Is that your twuck?” Max asks as he stands on the porch, waiting.
“Sure is,” I answer, leading the way to where I parked in the driveway.
“It’s big. Like my daddy’s twuck.” Max smiles a wide grin as I set the booster seat in the back and help
him climb up. Harper doesn’t say a word, just watches our exchange and climbs in the front seat when Max is secured.
It’s a short drive to the pizza joint, but Max talks nonstop the entire trip. I forgot how chatty little ones are. My niece, Vivian, is only two, but she’s just as talkative as Max. The only difference is Max’s questions actually make more sense, while Viv relies on the classic “Why?” every chance she gets.
“How many?” a server asks as she meets us at the front door, grabbing menus from the bin.
“Three,” I state, noticing how easy and comfortable it is to make the proclamation. No, he’s not my boy and she’s technically not my woman, but for a moment, a tiny sliver of time, it felt right that they were.
I’m not really sure what Harper and I are. We’re fucking, yes, but it’s more than that. Deeper than that. I’ve always wanted her, even when I was torturing the shit out of her as a kid. Now, I’m enjoying a little more torture, or sparring as some might say, and it feels fucking good. She gives as good as she gets, and I’m not just talking about in bed.
“Are you coming?” her sweet voice breaks through my thoughts.
“Excuse me?” I ask, surprised she’d instantly tease about coming, like she could read my dirty thoughts.
Max’s small hand slips in mine and gives me a tug. “Com’on. I want pizza,” he demands as he pulls me along behind Harper.
We follow the server to a booth and thank her as she sets our menus down. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to get you drinks,” she says politely.
“I sit by you,” Max informs me, climbing into the booth and sliding against the wall so I can join him.
Harper rolls her eyes and takes the bench across from us. “Figures. You already stole my dog, why not my nephew too,” she grumbles as she opens her menu.
“Awww, is Auntie Harper feeling left out?” I tease in a singsong voice.
“Zip it, or you don’t get pizza,” she instructs, making me bark out a laugh.
“I want cheese,” Max informs us, already coloring furiously on the white place mat in front of him.
“Just cheese?” Harper asks, a fond smile on her plump lips.
“And peppers!” he adds without breaking concentration from his masterpiece.
“You got it,” she says. “How about you? How do you like it?”
My cock twitches in my pants. I can’t help it, I lean forward and whisper just loud enough for only her ears to hear. “On top, bottom, against the wall, reverse cowgirl, which we haven’t tried yet, but my personal favorite is to take you from behind so I can touch the base of your spine and watch the way your back arches with each thrust of my hips.”
Her eyes are wide with shock, and maybe even a little arousal, and her mouth hangs open. I’ve stunned her silent. Her blue eyes dart toward her nephew, who’s coloring without a care in the world. “I can’t believe you said that. We’re in the middle of a family restaurant.”
I shrug my shoulders as our server returns to take our drink order. We end up adding a family order of cheese breadsticks with marinara sauce and a large pan pizza with green peppers on the whole thing, and sausage and mushrooms added to half. We’re both quiet until she returns with our drinks, vowing to return with our breadsticks soon.
“So, I was thinking,” she starts, twisting her napkin in her hand and avoiding eye contact.
“About?”
“Sunday. I don’t know if you have any plans, but my extended family is coming to town this weekend for a cookout. You might remember Rhenn saying something the other night. Anyway, they’ll be here in the morning and are going to do a little sightseeing in the area with Mom, but on Sunday, we’re all having lunch at the bed and breakfast. I didn’t know if, maybe, you wanted to stop by and eat with us.”
I watch her as the nerves take over. She still refuses to look at me, so I decide to wait her out. After the longest minute of my life, she finally glances up and meets my eyes. I smile. “You want me to come meet your family?”
“Not like that,” she says, rolling her eyes. But it’s just like that. She’s asking me to come over for lunch, not only with her immediate family, but the clan I’ve heard a little about from Virginia. “Just lunch.”
“Just lunch?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
She huffs out a deep breath. “Stop looking further into this than it is. It’s not like that.”
I reach over and place my hand over hers, stopping her from tearing her napkin into tiny pieces. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s a big deal. I know it. Did you ever take numbnuts to a family gathering?” I ask, knowing she doesn’t need any more indication of who I’m referring to. She shakes her head. “Then it is a big deal,” I add, holding her gaze and linking our fingers. “And I’d be honored to come over and hang out with you and your family.”
She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead, she snaps it shut and nods.
“Well, if this doesn’t look like one big happy family.” The voice instantly grates on my nerves.
“Speaking of numbnuts,” I say loudly, keeping my eyes on the woman across from me, making her smile widely.
“What are we, in third grade?” Joey asks.
I finally turn and look his way. He’s still several inches shorter than me, probably not much taller than Harper. His dark hair is styled with too much product and his eyebrows weirdly manscaped. “Hey, Joey, how have you been?” I ask, keeping my hand on Harper’s.
“I’m excellent. Haven’t seen you much since high school. You back home?” he asks, glancing down to where my hand rests.
“Yep, home to stay. Heard you’ve been hanging out with Felicity,” I reply, keeping my smirk at bay and inwardly smiling at myself when my comment hits its mark.
Joey avoids looking at Harper. “No, not really. Haven’t seen her around much,” he says casually.
“Just in the men’s bathroom, right?” I state, loving the way his eyes flare with anger as he glares down at me.
“You should talk, Douglas. I’ve heard she’s working for you,” Joey seethes, a cocky smirk on his ugly face.
“For me. That’s way different than under me.”
Harper snickers, causing Joey to turn his glare her way.
“Doesn’t matter, anyway,” he says, turning his eyes back on me and nodding toward the woman across the table. “Boring as hell in bed, that one,” he points to the woman across the table from me, “but I’m sure you already know that.” Joey grins wickedly as he reaches down and steals a piece of bread off her plate.
Not wanting to give this fucker an ounce of satisfaction, I slowly bring her hand up to my mouth, keeping my eyes locked on hers the entire time. “Boring? There’s nothing boring about this woman, man. She’s a firecracker in bed,” I say as I place a kiss on her knuckles. Then, glancing back to the asshole, I suggest, “Maybe it was you?”
Joey’s eyes darken with rage, but it doesn’t scare me any. I’ve stared down soldiers in foreign countries who were scarier than this piece of shit. “Fuck you,” he says harshly.
Now, my eyes turn to stone. “Watch your mouth, Joey. There are ladies and children within earshot. If you can’t keep it clean in a family establishment, then I’ll have to escort you outside to remind you of how to talk in front of women and children.” The harshness and insinuation in my tone leave no room for question, and I take pride in the way he swallows hard.
“You can keep her,” he mouths off. “I was done with her anyway.” Then, as if he thinks he got in the last word, he turns and stalks off toward a busty brunette in a low cut top.
“Jerk,” I state before glancing back across the table. I can’t read her expression, as she watches me.
“Sorry about that,” she says, her eyes dropping to the table.
“What do you have to be sorry for? You didn’t invite him over here to spew his misery,” I remind her.
Harper shrugs. “Yeah, but I dated him.”
“Well, that’s a conversation for another time, Sweetheart. Right now, all we need to worry about is getting some pizza in Max’s belly,” I state with a smile, glancing down to the coloring kid. He smiles up at me before returning to his drawing rendition of a baseball field. “Do you like baseball?”
“Yeah, it’s my favorite! And tomorrow I get to pray with Sawyer again. He said he’d bring me a jersey to wear,” Max says with excitement.
I glance over at Harper and give her a questioning look. “Sawyer would be Sawyer Randall, former third baseman for the Rangers. He’s also married to my cousin, AJ.”
“No shit?” I ask before I can stop the curse word.
“No shit!” Max exclaims.
“That’s a bad word,” Harper chastises. She looks over to me, her eyes full of humor. “You too. No more bad words.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply with a smile.
Our pizza is delivered, and I quickly help dish up a piece for Max.
“Do you want it cut up or eat it whole?” his aunt asks him.
“Whole like a big boy,” he answers with a decisive head nod.
“You got it,” I say as I slide a piece in front of him. Once I get one slice on Harper’s plate, I place one on my own.
We eat in comfortable silence for several moments, paying absolutely no attention to the eyes I feel watching us from the corner. I go ahead and make sure to touch her often. You know, in case he’s still watching. It’s not just for show, though. I couldn’t stop touching this woman if my life depended on it.
“Hey, Watham?” Max asks, a smear of pizza sauce on his cheek.
“Yeah, buddy?” I ask, using my napkin to clean off his face.
“What’s a numbnuts?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Harper
After dropping Max off with his hungover dad on this beautiful Saturday morning, I head in to work. I haven’t heard from Latham since dinner last night, but I wasn’t expecting to either. He’s working today, and the hardware store opens two hours before my own shop. Before he left last night (and after kissing me soundly on the porch the moment we were alone), I promised to text him later with details on lunch tomorrow.