by Lacey Black
“I should have done it sooner,” she whispers.
Shrugging my shoulders, I reply, “Maybe yes, maybe no. The important thing is you did it.” I pull her tightly against me and kiss her forehead. “I’m fucking proud of you.”
She releases a shuddered breath. “I’ve never told a single soul until that phone call and trip back to New York.”
I close my eyes, and revel in the feel of her warmth, her skin, her touch. I know it’s past time to come clean about the building, which is why I’m going to tell her tomorrow. Maybe after her family cookout, we can come back here – with Snuggles as a buffer – and I can let her know about the bidding war.
And about my feelings.
It’s time to tell her.
It’s been nearly a decade and a half.
It’s time to officially make her mine.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Harper
I’m pulling into the drive for my family’s bed and breakfast, the sun shining high in the late morning sky. Latham had to run home and change, since he didn’t bring fresh clothes with him to my place last night. Not that he wore those clothes for long, mind you, but he also had to stop by his sister’s house and set up a dollhouse for his niece. If I didn’t already promise Mom I’d come help her get ready for the family gathering today, I would have gone with him.
But our early Sunday schedules weren’t on our side.
No worries, though. Latham should be arriving at the B&B by eleven thirty.
Am I worried he’s meeting my entire family? Maybe just a little. I mean, he’s already met and hung out with my brothers and sister, but it’s the first time he’s meeting the extended family – and we all know how crazy they can be.
Plus, this makes us a little more official, and considering I don’t really know the title, I don’t know how to react to that. I mean, I guess we’re dating, though we’ve never actual used the term or set any parameters. I guess I’m going to have to just ask him outright. Maybe later today, after the cookout.
I park my car next to my sister’s and head inside. I swear I can still smell the fresh paint as I step through the open doorway. The screen door shuts easily and I’m instantly wrapped in familiarity and warmth. I spent a big chunk of my childhood here, right up until I left for New York City. When I moved home, I had felt so…dirty. I needed my own space to lick my wounds and deal with the anger. I went from a small apartment to renting my house for a few years, and worked odd jobs, saving up as much money as I could to be able to afford something better – something for me.
When the house I was renting was put on the market, I snatched it up. It’s small, but cozy, and was just right for me. Plus, my stuff was already there, which was a huge advantage. I couldn’t imagine packing up and moving after I spent so much time scouring resell shops and garage sales to turn the house into a place of my very own.
Then the next big phase of my life began. Over beers one night with Free and Mara, I realized my dream of owning my own business. I was complaining about the lack of options for intimate items in town, and Mara mentioned the vacant building. Before the end of the night, we had come up with a plan. Sure, I honestly thought it was a pipe dream, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted it.
It wasn’t easy to secure a loan at such a young age, especially after signing papers on my house the year prior. I had to put my house up as collateral, plus have a co-signer. Mom was more than willing to volunteer. After all, she understood going after dreams more than anyone I knew.
That’s why I love coming home. Yes, it’s the place where I grew up, but it’s more than that. It was Mom’s dream. She worked hard, started from the bottom, and clawed her way up. Sometimes we went without because the money was needed elsewhere, but do you know what? Looking back now, I know just how much she truly sacrificed. We might not have had the top-of-the-line clothes, but we always had clothes nonetheless. She went without so we didn’t have to.
And I’m forever grateful for her sacrifice.
“Hey!” Mom says from the front counter as she helps customers. Their bags are sitting beside them and there’s no missing the looks of love they send back and forth. If I had to guess, I’d say anniversary. Early. Probably second or third.
Before I can offer to help them with their bags, Rhenn appears, coming into the main hallway from the kitchen. He’s wearing a smile on his face and his hair is a little messy. Something tells me my sister had something to do with that. My sister’s boyfriend grabs the bags and heads upstairs, while Mom fills the young couple in on the details of the bed and breakfast and their stay.
I head into the kitchen, where I find my little sister, Marissa. “Hey,” I greet before heading to the fridge for a bottle of water.
“Hi!” she answers with a huge smile. There’s also no missing the I-was-just-kissed-within-an-inch-of-my-life lips, or the way her ponytail is off center and hanging funny behind her head.
I can’t help the smirk that takes over my face. “Have a good morning?”
She blushes instantly. “It was…good,” she answers, averting her eyes. Yet the smile still remains.
“Okay, Aunt Emma, but don’t come crying to me when Mom busts you making out like teenagers in the kitchen. Or worse…Samuel.”
Marissa snorts. “He’s seen worse. Did you know he came over last weekend and just walked right into my cottage? Didn’t even knock.”
“And?”
She blushes deeper red. “Well, let’s just say he’ll never do that again. I think he’s scarred for life.”
I bust up laughing. “Kitchen sex?”
Marissa gives me a small nod. “The things Rhenn was doing to me on the counter probably sent our big brother straight to the church.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, we both crack up. Samuel is as straightlaced, and dare I say completely anally retentive, as they come.
“Does he know we’re throwing in a little birthday celebration for him today?” I ask. Big brother hates anything that draws attention to him, including celebrating the day he was born.
“Nope, I didn’t say a word, and I’m pretty sure Mom didn’t either.”
“Didn’t what?” she asks as she joins us in the kitchen.
“Tell Samuel we’re celebrating his birthday,” I state, reaching across the counter for one of the fresh cookies Marissa is placing on a platter.
“Of course not. It is better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” Mom adds, quoting something my dad used to say. Except, for him, his request for forgiveness fell on deaf ears. His appeal came in the form of mercy for an affair. As soon as Mom found out though, she kicked his cheating ass to the curb. Of course, he wasn’t really asking for forgiveness. If he were, he would have fought for his marriage instead of running out, shacking up, and marrying the first bimbo who came his way.
“Speaking of forgiveness,” I say, feeling the familiar tightness in my chest return as I think about my time in New York. But after speaking with Latham last night, I knew it was time to come clean with my family. I owe it to them. “I have something to share.”
I take a seat across from the island, while Mom and Marissa stop what they’re doing and join me. The seriousness on their faces lets me know they understand I’m about to share something big. And I do. I tell them everything about my time in the Big Apple, including the trip back to New York last year. They both cry, of course, being the softhearted women they are. When I finish my piece, I’m engulfed in a tight hug.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” Marissa sniffles.
“I was scared.”
Mom turns me and places her hands on her face. “I’m not happy you didn’t tell us, but I understand why. And I’m proud of you for your part in having that horrible man thrown in jail.” She pulls me in tight once more. “You are an incredible woman, Harper, and I’m proud to call you my daughter.”
I don’t speak, just revel in her familiar embrace. Marissa w
I swipe at the tears that have managed to fall and give him a reassuring smile. “Yes, everything is okay.”
He walks over to where I sit and searches my face. “Do I need to kill someone? I know the best ways to hide a body.” The look on his face tells me he’s deadly serious, even though I think everyone else takes it as a joke. I can read between the lines, though, and I know he’s referring to Latham.
“No, not at all. In fact, he’s going to be here in just a little bit.”
Rhenn continues to watch and eventually must believe me. “Good. I like him.”
“Me too!” Marissa chimes in with a smile, returning to her cookie-making post.
“Me three,” I whisper, feeling the warmth spread up my neck. I can’t believe I just admitted that.
“I’d hate to have to kill him,” Rhenn states and comes over to whisper in my ear. “But I would.”
I give my sister’s boyfriend a reassuring smile. I have no doubt Rhenn would do some serious damage to Latham or anyone who hurt me. He’s an incredible friend and a huge support system for my sister. In just a few short months, he has quickly cemented his place in our family.
The next hour is spent getting the food ready for the cookout. Just after eleven, my brothers arrive, with my nephew in tow, as well as the extended family. There’s so many of them and the house and yard quickly fill with noise. The few guests who are here are invited outside and mingle with the family. It’s a beautiful, perfect last day of July.
And then Latham arrives, and my heart kicks into overdrive.
There’s always been something about him. Sure, no one has the ability to crawl under my skin the way he does, but if I’m being honest with myself, it’s more than that. Always has been. He’s impossibly frustrating, yet is sweet and endearing in all the right ways. He’s hard and gruff, but at the same time, tender and sweet. He lets me know he does care with his words and actions.
And I care too.
A lot.
More than I’ve ever cared about anyone in the past. That’s evident in the way I spilled my guts last night about New York, and was comforted in the way he held me so tight, I didn’t know where I ended and he began. It made me realize it was possible to find someone who has your best interests at heart and puts you first. Really, I don’t need to be first: I need to be loved. I want to be treated as an equal, as a partner, and I didn’t realize how badly I craved it until last night.
Until Latham.
My smile is wide as he comes around the corner, immediately intercepted by my brother, Jensen. They start talking right away, smiles on both of their faces, and I can’t help but realize how seamlessly he fits into the picture. Into my family. They all love him. Even Samuel, who’s standing over by the grill with Nick, shooting big brother daggers at my afternoon date. He does it because he loves me and wants nothing but the best. He glances my way, and I offer him a warm grin, letting him know I’ve found it.
I’m okay.
Samuel throws me a wink and turns back to our cousin’s husband. A few others are pulled into the conversation, which I’m sure is completely stimulating – probably about the importance of life insurance or preplanning your funeral, if I know Samuel.
I can feel his approach before I see him. Not only can I sense his presence, but I can smell his cologne. It’s outdoorsy and musky in the sexiest way. “Miss me?” he whispers. He’s directly behind me, but doesn’t touch me. Yet, his words have me shivering nonetheless.
“Nope,” I tease, glancing over my shoulder with a smirk.
“Good. I didn’t miss you either,” he tells me, though his eyes don’t lie. The way they sparkle lets me know his words aren’t true.
I turn around and his hand instantly wraps around my hip. “Ready to meet the family?” I ask, all breathy-like. Why am I all breathy?
“In a minute,” he replies. Just when I go to ask what the holdup is, he pulls me into his body and plasters his lips on mine. It’s a chaste kiss, one that’s totally appropriate when surrounded by family, but it causes my breathing to hitch and my mind to spiral anyway. I don’t know what it is about his kisses, but they’ve always done something to me. Even back in school. After prom.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. “Okay, now I’m ready.”
“Are you sure, Romeo? I mean, I don’t mind meeting you while you’re sporting a massive woody, but some of my granddaughters get a little embarrassed. They don’t appreciate the beauty and naturalness of the male form like I do,” I hear behind me and cringe when I realize Aunt Emma has overheard our conversation.
“Latham, this spunky little spitfire is my Aunt Emma,” I say in way of reply, turning to face the petite old woman with an ornery grin.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Latham,” Emma says, pulling Latham down for a big hug. As she does her frail little hands, with the apparent strength of a clamp, reaches down and grabs his ass. Latham jumps in surprise, moving his body in a jerk, but unfortunately, all he does is proceed to thrust his hips forward.
Right into Emma.
He tries to pull back, but Emma seems to latch on with the speed and strength of an agile jungle cat. “Oh, very nice, indeed,” she says with a wide smile and a squeeze. After a few uncomfortable seconds (where Latham look like he’s going to vomit), she finally pulls back, a cat that ate the canary grin on her face. My aunt glances my way and whispers (very loudly), “Oh, you’re a lucky, lucky woman, Harper. Reminds me of my Lexi. Her Linkin’s ass is the finest I’ve ever had my hands on. It reminds me of your uncle’s when he was a frisky young man.”
“I…wow…thank you?” Yeah, it comes out a question.
Emma reaches over and pats my hand. “No, thank you.” Then she saunters away, heading straight to her husband. When she reaches him, she grabs his ass, right there in front of the family, our guests, and God.
“I’ve never had my ass fondled by a woman approaching ninety,” Latham deadpans, his eyes wide with shock.
I can’t stop the snort that slips from my mouth. “Let’s go meet everyone. I promise no one else will touch your butt,” I tell him, reaching for his hand as I pull him toward my cousins and their husbands.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Latham
By the time lunch is served, I’ve been introduced to everyone, including Sawyer Randall, AJ’s husband, who used to be a professional baseball player. Harper’s nephew, Max, monopolizes as much of his time as possible, including playing catch. I’ll admit, I’m starstruck almost as much as the little boy. Twice I’ve heard him say he’s going to be a professional ball player, just like our cousin, Sawyer.
I’m chatting with Linkin and Levi when my phone rings. I glance down and see Pete’s name on the screen. I’m not expecting his call with the final decision on the building until tomorrow, so I’m quite surprised to see his name appear. “Hello?”
“Hey, Latham, it’s Pete. I have news,” he says.
“Hold on,” I say into the phone. “Excuse me a minute,” I then say to the guys, excusing myself from the small group. “Okay, what’s up?” I ask finally when I’m alone away from the party in the backyard.
“I’ve heard from Mrs. Morton’s family. She made a decision. You win. The building’s yours, man,” he boasts. Pete goes on, but I don’t hear him. I turn around, my eyes immediately seeking her out. Harper’s beside her cousin and sister, laughing at something one of them says. She looks completely carefree and full of life. So beautiful and happy.
Until we get back to her place and I tell her the dream of expanding her business isn’t going to happen.
“Did you hear me, man?”
Clearing my throat, I answer, “Yeah. I heard you.”
There’s silence before he asks, “Aren’t you happy? This is what you wanted.”
“Yes, of course. I’m happy.”
Am I really?
“She wants to do this ASAP. Her lawyers will draw it up Monday, and as long as the financing you were preapproved for goes through, you could own that building by end of the week. Do you hear me? End of the week!”
I hear him. Loud and clear.
My heart pounds in my chest, but I’m not sure if it’s from happiness or dread. Both, probably. With this one phone call, I have a feeling the entire course of my future has been altered. Something tells me everything I wanted, hoped for, planned is about to erupt in my hands, like a grenade with the pin already pulled.
“…when you have confirmation from the bank. I’ll get back with you when I have everything lined up,” he says, earning a noncommittal noise in response.
He signs off, leaving me standing there with my phone in my hand. Dropping it back into my pocket, I take a few moments to collect my thoughts. The bed and breakfast is positioned in a clearing of trees. You can hear the distant sound of the ocean, and any other day, I might actually enjoy my surroundings. But not now.
Not since the phone call.
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I turn back toward the beauty with auburn hair. The sun hits the crown of her head, illuminating the smile she wears on her face. The face I love. The one who won’t be very happy with me when I tell her about the building.
But she needs to hear it from me.
As soon as we can get to her place, I have to tell her. She’ll be disappointed, definitely. Maybe a little upset. But she’ll understand it was business. If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d feel the same way. Then, maybe after I tell her about the building, I’ll tell her how I really feel about her. That I’m crazy about her.
Totally and completely in love with her.
I’ll even be able to help her with her spacing problem. I could help her build more shelves or redesign the space to optimize room. This could work out, maybe even better than expected. She’ll see that, right?
Something tells me I have a better chance of walking on water than getting Harper to understand this is a good thing.
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