She Loves Me

by Foster, Melissa

  Harley glanced at Delaney, wondering if she knew about their mother going to therapy.

  “Your sister didn’t know about the therapist, Harley. I felt like we’d failed Marshall, and I didn’t know what to do. Your father couldn’t talk about it, and he didn’t want our family to be the talk of the town.”

  “You might have opened a door, but he’s the one who walked through it,” Harley insisted. “Nobody around town blames you or Dad for Marshall’s mistakes.”

  “We don’t know that, but I hope they don’t. The only person who knew about my therapy was Roxie Dalton, and that’s because she saw right past my pleasantries to the pain that was eating away at me. She tried to help, bless her heart. But her holistic approaches didn’t work. She had a friend in Port Hudson, a psychologist, and Roxie covered for me once a week so I could go see him. I was depressed, which he said was to be expected. He helped me understand a lot of things, and it took a few years, but eventually I learned to put things in perspective and got back on track. I missed Marshall, and I’m not happy about the mistakes your father and I made, but I understand that I can’t change the past.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Delaney said. “You were depressed and having a hard time for three years? How could I miss that?”

  Harley felt just as blindsided. He’d always kept in close touch with his parents. He remembered a few weeks after Marshall had first taken off when they’d been unhappy, uneasy, concerned. Hell, they all had. But he couldn’t remember any long stretches of time when his mother had been out of sorts.

  “Because, Delaney, your life was fairly messy back then. You were living in the city, you had a new baby, and you were trying to keep your head above water while attending law school and attempting to save your rocky marriage.”

  “I didn’t do a great job of saving it.” Delaney sighed and sat back against the couch cushions.

  “Nobody could have fixed that douchebag,” Harley snapped. “Who leaves their pregnant wife and child for some chick they met at a park?”

  “Let’s not go there again,” Delaney suggested. “Mom, did Dad go to therapy, too?”

  Their mother shook her head. “No. Your father didn’t believe in it.”

  “I can’t believe I missed the clues. I’m sorry, Mom.” Harley sank down to the arm of the couch beside his mother’s chair, feeling like he’d failed her.

  “Oh, honey, don’t do this to yourself. You were building a very important, very difficult career, and you still made time to come back and help us out at home and with the business. I never should have leaned on you for all this time.” She reached over and touched his cheek, bringing his eyes to hers. “You’re my boy, and I love you. But Marshall is my boy, too, and I love him, which is why you need to give him a chance to speak his mind. You need to do this for me, honey. I need to see him, even if it’s just so I can apologize to him for the things your father and I did wrong.”

  “Apologize? He—”

  “Harley,” his mother said firmly, her unwavering gaze holding him silent. “I don’t care if he hears me out and takes off again. I need to see him. Do you understand that?”

  “Mom, we don’t even know if he’s still in town,” Delaney reminded her as she pulled out her phone. “I can call my friend at the police station and see if he can keep his eyes open for his car.”

  “Motorcycle,” Harley snapped, frustration stacking up inside him. “Colorado plates, but, Dee, really?”

  “He’s right. You can’t call the police. If Marshall’s in trouble, then we could be leading the police directly to him,” his mother said.

  Harley pushed to his feet again. “That is not what I was saying! When are you two going to stop bailing him out? How many times did Dad fix things for him in high school by leaning on his buddy, Chief Klein? If Marshall’s in trouble, he should pay the price.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” His mother sighed, shaking her head. “The heart is a powerful thing, and it can make you very confused. You think you’re angry with him. I think you’re worried about him.”

  “I’m way past worrying about Marshall. I’m concerned about you and Delaney and the girls.”

  “You would not do well on the witness stand,” Delaney said with a smirk.

  He glowered at her.

  “You don’t believe that, Harley,” his mother said. “Why do you think you’re so angry at him?”

  “I don’t need to think about it,” he fumed. “I’m angry because he screwed everyone over and doesn’t care about how much he’s hurt you, and yeah, Mom, I’m pissed that now you’re making excuses for him to come right back into your life and hurt you again.”

  “And if he’s sick?” their mother asked, stopping Harley in his tracks. “What if he came home because something is wrong, and you drove him away?” Her face blanched. “Oh, goodness. What if he doesn’t come back?”

  Guilt and frustration coiled together into a frigging noose, tightening around Harley’s neck. “He didn’t look sick. He looked harsh, and he acted like the same arrogant Marshall he’s always been, expecting to waltz right into our lives without any remorse for what he’s done.” He had to get out of there before he lost it and said things he shouldn’t. “I love you both, but I’ve got to get out of here.” He headed for the door and said, “Kiss the girls for me and tell them I love them.”

  He climbed into his truck and called Piper as he sped away.

  “How’d it go?” she asked anxiously.

  He was too pissed for small talk. “Would you mind if I demolished something at the Mad House?”

  Piper climbed from her truck as a visceral groan cut through the air, followed by the familiar sound of metal on stone and the dull thud of stones landing on concrete. Her heart ached for Harley. If she’d allowed herself to think about Marshall on any personal level, she might have been the one needing the outlet. But Marshall’s return wasn’t about her. She’d forced herself to put that wall up, sealing off any thoughts about what Marshall had done to her all those years ago, so she could focus on helping Harley deal with his much bigger, more hurtful issue.

  She grabbed the water bottle and towel she’d brought, wishing she could have gotten out of work earlier. It had been more than an hour since Harley had called, but they were putting the final touches on the carriage house and she’d needed to get the job done. She followed the sounds of destruction through the long grass and around one of the dilapidated buildings. Most of the knee-high stone wall that had once surrounded the patio was scattered in bits and pieces in the grass and on the patio. Harley was midswing, his skin glistening with sweat. His back and arm muscles bulged and flexed. He emitted a loud, guttural sound as he swung the sledgehammer, and it crashed into the wall, sending stones flying.

  “Damn, Dutch. That was about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Harley turned, his surprise easing into a partial smile, which did nothing to soothe the torment in his eyes. “Hey, babe.” His chest rose and fell with each inhalation.

  Piper went to him, wishing she could take away his anguish. “That bad, huh? What can I do?”

  Motioning to the stones, he said, “You’ve already done enough.”

  He sounded less angry and maybe a little defeated or exhausted. She wasn’t sure which, but both were cause for worry. He was wrong. She hadn’t done enough, but she’d continue trying as long as he’d let her. She handed him the towel. He toweled off his face and chest, then kissed her. His lips were salty and warm. It didn’t matter what was going on in their lives. Every single kiss was still better than the last simply because their love was alive in them.

  “I figured you probably forgot to hydrate.” She handed him the water bottle.

  He set the sledgehammer down and guzzled the entire bottle. “My brain’s been on overdrive today.”

  “Your brain never thinks of you until everyone else is taken care of.”

  “You think you know me,” he said, parroting her words with a playful glimmer in his eyes.


  She was glad to see and hear his levity. “I know I love you. Does that count?”

  “More than you could know.” He kissed her again. “Thanks for bringing the drink and towel.”

  “I keep them in my truck just in case the urge to come here or jump in the lake hits me.”

  He looked doubtful. “When’s the last time you jumped in the lake?”

  “I can’t tell you all of my secrets,” she said coyly. “There’ll be no mystery left between us.”

  “You’ll never stop being a mystery to me.”

  “Let’s hope not, but how about we take away a little of your mystery? Do you want to talk about what happened with your mom and Delaney? Or would you rather go back to hitting the wall? I’m cool with either.”

  He pulled her against his sweaty chest, and she wrinkled her nose. “You’re a little ripe.”

  “And you smell like my favorite girl who worked hard all day, but you don’t see me complaining.”

  She turned her face and sniffed her shoulder. “I smell like my mother’s lavender lotion.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” he teased. “And I’m onto you with that love-potion lotion of your mother’s adding another level of irresistibility to my girl. Just an FYI, I like you sweaty.” He kissed her neck. “And I’d like to get you even sweatier.”

  “I’m good with that.” She pressed a kiss to his chest and said, “But I’m also onto your avoidance technique.”

  “I learned that trick from a very beautiful, extremely wise woman.”

  “She must be an excellent teacher.”

  “Wait until you see what she taught me to do in the shower.” He lowered his lips to hers, kissing her deeply.

  Now she knew what Harley had felt like when she’d been closed off to him. She wanted him to let her in, but she knew she was the last person who should push anyone to talk about their feelings. At the same time, she was too worried about him not to ask. “Just tell me this. Did they see Marshall?”

  “No, but they want to. I feel guilty for sending him away, but if I hadn’t, I would have hit him. That would have been worse.”

  “Maybe, or maybe he needs to duke it out, too.”

  “That is not the kind of advice my mother would give me,” he said.

  “Mine either. My father told me that about him and his brother. They fought for years, and when they were trying to clear the air, he said they just went at each other. No words were spoken, but fists flew until they were both worn out.”

  “Your father? Clean-cut Dan Dalton got into a fistfight?”

  “My dad’s badass. How do you think I ended up this way?” She felt his tension easing and said, “What do you want to do about Marshall?”

  He shrugged. “No idea, and he probably left town anyway.”

  “If he did, then he wasn’t ready to come back. You two have a lot of bad blood and resentment between you. Maybe he just needs time.”

  His eyes narrowed skeptically.

  “I get it. He’s had years already, but you know what I mean. Thinking about seeing the people you’ve hurt and actually looking into their eyes is different. As you found out last night, suddenly all that crap you guys told yourselves that you’d do if you ever saw each other again rises to the surface.”

  She took his hand and said, “Why don’t we put away the sledgehammer and go home and get cleaned up?”

  He put the towel over his shoulder and picked up the sledgehammer, resting it on the towel as they walked through the long grass to the barn. After they put away the tool, they headed to their trucks.

  “Why was the barn unlocked when I got here?” he asked.

  “The lock fairies must have come out early in the morning. They’re smart like that.”

  He squeezed her hand, and when his loving eyes met hers, she knew her resilient man was going to be okay.

  “Want to get subs or a pizza for dinner later?”

  He waggled his brows and said, “Definitely. I’ve got a twelve-inch meat lover’s for you.”

  “I have a tape measure, remember?”

  “Come on, Trig. You know those things aren’t accurate.”

  She laughed. “I don’t care if you’re eight or twelve inches. All I care is that you’re mine, and to show you just how happy that makes me, I’m going to give you a Piper Special after our shower and take all your stress away.”

  “Oh, baby. That sounds hot.”

  “I meant a massage.”

  “As long as there’s a happy ending . . .”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  PIPER TORE A piece of drywall off the studs and tossed it on a pile of rubbish. It was Monday afternoon, and she was strung so tight, she’d been gritting her teeth all day to keep from biting her crew’s heads off. After finishing the carriage house and wrapping up the Windsor Hall project, she’d hoped to have a few days off before preparing for their next job. But she and her crew were back at Windsor Hall, tearing out the kitchen. She was usually patient when clients made last-minute changes or asked her to take on additional work, but she abhorred doing things ass-backward, like being asked to tear out a kitchen that her crew had just finished painting and touching up. Luckily, the guys didn’t mind the extra work and had jumped right into dismantling the room.

  “All I’m saying is that your bachelor party will be the last time you’re going to get a free pass,” Mike said to Darren Monday afternoon. “Think about it. The last time.”

  “That right there is the reason you’re three times divorced,” Kase said as he worked on removing the counter from the island. “Guys don’t get a free pass before marriage any more than women do. I bet none of your exes got a free pass.”

  Mike scoffed. “Damn right.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want a free pass? Man, you’ve got issues, Mike. I love my girl, and I don’t want anyone else now, or ever.” The restraint in Darren’s voice heightened the tension between them. Darren was obviously hitting his limit with Mike’s bullshit. He pointed to the other end of the cabinet he’d just torn out and said, “Now, get your ancient ass over here and help me carry this out.”

  “Kase, get that with Darren, will ya?” Piper called across the room.

  Kase took off his baseball cap and dragged his forearm across his forehead. “Sure, boss.”

  Piper pulled another piece of Sheetrock from the wall and tossed the part that hadn’t crumbled in her hands to the rubbish pile, grinding out a curse. When Darren was out of earshot, she said, “It’s time to cut the shit, Mike. I’m getting tired of listening to Darren defending himself and his love for his girl.”

  “I’m just watching my boy’s back. Last night he sounded like he had cold feet.” He uncapped a bottle of water and took a swig.

  “It’s marriage!” she snapped. “It’s fucking scary! Putting negative thoughts into his head isn’t going to help whatever’s going on between them.”

  He took another drink and said, “I was just having fun with him.”

  “Well, cut it out. It’s grating on my nerves.”

  Mike set down the water bottle and said, “You and Harley are still going strong, huh?”

  Kase and Darren came through the door, and Kase said, “They are, which means you lost your chance, Mike.”

  “As if he ever had one.” Piper tossed another hunk of drywall aside.

  Mike grabbed a cabinet and hefted it into his arms. “Guess he’s not cockblocking you anymore.”

  Piper ground her teeth together, pulled off her gloves, and followed him out the door.

  Today was not the day to fuck with her. In addition to having to do work that should have been on her original contract, she was worried about Harley. Nobody had heard from Marshall, and every day that passed brought more frustration and guilt to Harley over having sent him away. By taking off, Marshall had proven either her or Harley’s theories right—he either hadn’t been ready to come back, or he needed something. It didn’t matter which one was right; the end r
esult was the same. He was gone, and Harley was left trying to clean up his brother’s mess. He might have been the one to send him away that night, but if their family was important to Marshall, he would have tried again. It appeared Harley was right and Marshall hadn’t changed at all. Marshall’s blatant disregard for Harley fueled a fire in her that she had no idea how to put out.

  Mike heaved the cabinet into the dumpster, and when he turned, Piper was right there. He had about a foot and at least sixty or seventy pounds on her, but that didn’t stop her from getting in his face as she said, “From now on, my relationship with Harley is off-limits. You want to joke around about aprons and that nonsense? Fine. But things have changed, and if my sex life comes up again, I’ll give you bruises that you’ll have a hard time explaining. Got it?”

  Regret rose in his eyes. “Got it, boss. Sorry.” His gaze shifted over her shoulder, and in a more forceful tone, he said, “Can we help you with something?”

  “I’m here to see Piper.”

  Marshall’s voice fueled her frustration, sending an icy chill down her spine.

  Piper turned, feeling the scowl on her lips and the narrowing of her eyes. She knew the feel of the glacial expression she was giving off well. It was the one she’d used on Harley the night he’d found her on the dock when they were younger. She’d mastered it in the years since. It was a look that said, Don’t even try to fuck with me, because I will tear you up and spit you out.

  Marshall looked nothing like he had when they were teenagers. His hair was coarser, he was bearded, and the tattoo sleeves and the ink snaking out from beneath the collar of his black T-shirt gave him a sinister edge. His face had a tough, leatherish appearance, like he’d been roughed up so many times even his skin exuded a don’t-fuck-with-me vibe. His eyes conveyed a completely different mood, hovering somewhere between arrogance and uncertainty. He gave off a third, more complex wave of energy with an aggressive stance, but his arms hung loosely by his sides, strangely nonthreatening. Assembling all of those attributes was like trying to fit the pieces of several different puzzles into one. Piper’s emotions tangled and fought in protection of Harley, spinning angrier by the second, but frustratingly tethered by some unseen leash to the past.