Hero Worship

by Emery Cross

  Hero Worship

  Emery Cross

  Published by Emery Cross, 2019.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  EPILOGUE I

  EPILOGUE II

  Copyright© by Emery Cross

  CHAPTER 1

  HARPER

  I WAS SWIMMING IN THE deep end when I heard the rumble of an engine. I could see the headlights approaching through the slats of the wood fencing.

  Matt had a visitor. I instantly regretted plunging into the pool naked.

  I'd only left a single light on in the house, the one in the kitchen, which wouldn't be visible from the front of the house and I hadn't turned on the pool light or any outdoor lights. If I stayed really still maybe the person would just go away. The gate opened and I ducked underwater. A flashlight swept the pool and then was directed right where I was hiding.

  The light remained focused on me. My air gave out fast, probably because I was panicking, and I popped up gasping for breath. I couldn't see the person wielding the blinding flashlight, but they sure as hell could see me.

  I swam away from the bright light toward the edge then scrambled out of the pool and made a dash toward the house.

  The electric tiki torches came on and the flashlight turned off. This person knew where the light switch was; it was someone familiar with the house.

  "Hey, stop right there," an all too familiar voice ordered. That voice, with the sigh-inducing Deep South drawl, had featured in every sensual dream I’d ever had.

  I covered my naked body with my hands as I turned to face him. It took my eyes a moment to adjust and even then I found myself blinking. I hadn't seen Rowley Ford for nearly seven years. And that hadn't been easy. It took careful planning to avoid my brother's best friend.

  He was twenty-five now and still the hunk I'd fan-girled over, only bigger and better. He'd already had a linebacker's build in high school, but his shoulders and chest were even broader now, his jaw squarer. And if that wasn't enough to make my heart beat madly, he was wearing his dark blue firefighter's uniform.

  I stood gawping at him, my chest heaving.

  "Who are you?" he asked.

  I bristled with sudden indignation even though it was logical that he didn't recognize me. Last time he'd seen me I was inches shorter, with pudgy cheeks, no curves to speak of, and hair dyed Goth black. I'd copied a look I'd seen on a much older girl. It was the middle of my chameleon phase, when I changed my looks every other month.

  Fine, if he didn't know who I was, then maybe I could use it to my advantage. Maybe I could remain anonymous.

  When I didn't respond, he pressed the screen of his phone and lifted it to his ear. "Caught the intruder," he said. There was a pause as he listened to the person on the phone and then he started talking again. "A redhead. Short but leggy. About one hundred pounds soaking wet." He'd felt no compunction to lower his voice as he described me.

  "C-cup. I'd wager on real." He was clearly answering questions the person on the other end was asking.

  Good grief, who was he talking to? Not my brother, I figured, since he was on a photo assignment, which usually meant he was on a mountaintop or in a jungle, or some other far flung place without phone service. I hadn't even bothered trying to get in touch with him because then I would have had to explain about my ill-fated marriage.

  Rowley chuckled in response to something the other person had said. "Shaved smooth."

  Jeez, the only thing he hadn't caught sight of was my clit ring. I could feel the cool metal against my palm.

  Nobody would talk to the cops like that, would they? Maybe Rowley had a buddy on the force.

  "Ring any bells? Is she one of yours?" he asked.

  One of yours?

  "Oh my God, Rowley Ford. Did you just say all that to my brother?"

  He dropped the hand that held the phone heavily to his side and narrowed his eyes.

  "The fuck? Is that you, Harper?"

  "Of course, it's me," I said with exasperation.

  He proceeded to take a thorough inventory of me, again. His gaze skipped from my boobs spilling over my arm to my legs and then back up to my face. I had the urge to remind him that I'd acquired the breasts and the lengthier legs since I'd last seen him, so studying them so intently wouldn't help provide any confirmation of my identity, but I couldn't work up the sass needed.

  "Aren't you going to say something?" I asked.

  "Jesus, let a man catch his breath."

  I'd shocked him.

  He brought the phone back to his ear. "You hear any of that? It's your sister."

  I started edging sideways toward the door and he shot me a hard look that rooted me to the spot.

  He rubbed the back of his neck as he listened to my brother's response and then ended the conversation with, "I'll let her know."

  I'd planned on air-drying in the lingering California heat, but now I'd give anything for a towel. "I didn't think it would be a big deal if I went for a swim."

  "Matt asked that neighbor”—he pointed to the house with the red-tiled roof—“to keep an eye on the house. So next time, knock on his door and let him know."

  "Got it. I'll surely do that next time," I said, making it clear by my tone that he should be moseying along.

  His gaze left me. He was clearly focusing in on the screen I'd pried off the kitchen window and the wooden planter box I'd upended to use as a boost.

  I'd remembered that the window didn't latch properly and, thankfully, my brother hadn't fixed it. Though I hadn't figured on how difficult it would be to wiggle through, and end up in the sink. I still had a few bruises from the process.

  His attention returned to me. "Are you staying here?"

  "Just for a few days. Don't worry Matt about it. Please. I'm probably going to move back in with my ex." Each of my bandmates had generously put me up for awhile as I’d dealt with the divorce, but they all had significant others or roommates, so I only took advantage of their hospitality for short stints. I'd come to my brother's unoccupied house to catch my breath and figure out what to do next.

  "Ex as in boyfriend?" he asked.

  "As in husband."

  His eyebrows lifted at that revelation. “What are you, twenty?”

  “Actually, I turned twenty-one last month.” I sounded like a child trying to make herself sound more mature.

  "Matt never mentioned you got married."

  "Yeah, well, I might have forgotten to tell him," I said. "Listen, it's been nice catching up and all, but I'm going to go inside now."

  He was walking, but in the wrong direction. He was heading around the pool toward me.

  "Like hell you want to move back in with your ex. You broke into your brother's house."

  "True," I admitted. There was no point in denying it. Moving in with Finn was an option of last resort. And even if I asked to crash on his couch, Finn would be sure to get the wrong idea. For such a chill rock and roller when he was on stage, behind the scenes he sure was needy and clingy and whiny.

  "You can stay in my back house," Rowley said.

  "That's not necessary," I said, not hiding my annoyance. Somehow I'd managed to su
rvive all these years without his over-protective attitude.

  "You're coming home with me," he said with finality and started heading toward the house. I fell in line behind him.

  "Everything all right, officer?"

  Rowley swiftly circled around me so that my naked self was hidden behind him.

  I peeked around him.

  The neighbor was peering over the top of the fence. His hands gripped the fence and he appeared a little wobbly as if he were balancing atop something. The man's eyeglasses glittered with the reflection of the tiki torches.

  Rowley reached back and put a restraining hand on my hip, to make sure I got the point and stayed put.

  "I'm with the fire department," he said, "but I'm not here in any official capacity. My friend owns this house. It was his sister you heard."

  "Matthew asked that I keep an eye out," the man's tone was a little defensive.

  "Yes, of course," Rowley said. "Thank you for that."

  "Well, goodnight, then," the man said.

  Rowley responded with a goodnight and his hand squeezed my waist a little harder. It was a signal to remain hidden. He waited for the man to drop down from sight before turning to face me.

  "Let's get this done. I need to get back to the station."

  I stood for a moment and stared up into his hard, handsome face. As if he wasn't intimidating enough, the uniform just gave him that extra edge of authority that made me feel totally ridiculous with my dripping wet hair and my breasts spilling out of my arm and hand bra.

  I was itching for a fight. But why? I needed a place to stay and I couldn't afford rent on anything decent with my meager wages from the bakery. My brother would have no problem with me living at his house, but I couldn't do it for sanity's sake. Matthew wasn't home much, but I knew I wouldn't want to be around when he was. He was a playboy, to put it as nicely as possible. Which is, of course, why Rowley confused me for one of his many hookups.

  I'd always wondered what Rowley thought of my brother's lifestyle. I’d been convinced that Rowley was the kind of guy who mated for life.

  But maybe he'd changed. I blushed thinking about how he'd looked at me across the pool, how he'd listed what he considered my assets in a drawling voice. That wasn't the Rowley I remembered. I couldn't recall seeing him look at any girl like that before. Even Katherine, or Kat as she liked to be called, his longtime girlfriend.

  I hurried past him, the tops of my breasts bouncing above my arm.

  I flung the porch door open and grabbed the halter dress I'd draped over the living room chair and ducked into the bathroom. I took a few minutes to make myself presentable. I drew my wet hair back and knotted it at the nape of my neck. I wanted desperately to add a touch more mascara, maybe a bit of lip gloss, but decided that might be noticeable and I didn't want to give Rowley the idea that even after all this time I still crushed on him....even if I did. Worshiping Rowley, was a chronic disease that I couldn't cure. I had to be satisfied with trying to control it.

  I came out of the bathroom to find that my few boxes of belongings had already been cleared out of the house.

  Rowley had even replaced the window screen. I switched off the lights and locked the knob before joining him on the driveway.

  As I approached, he opened the passenger door of his big pickup truck.

  "I'll follow in my car."

  "We can pick it up tomorrow."

  "I need it to get to work."

  He walked me to my faded red hatchback. "Where are you working?"

  "A bakery in the village."

  He opened my car door for me. "Shit, that's only a couple of miles from the fire station. Why have you never come to see me?"

  I couldn't pretend I didn't know where he worked. He knew Matthew would have mentioned it. "I wanted to, but I just never got around to it." I climbed into the car.

  "Yeah, right," he said with a scoff before shutting the car door.

  He drove his pickup slowly, like he was afraid I'd lose him.

  I followed him up the driveway. He parked in front of the garage, triggering the outdoor wall lights.

  I pulled my car up alongside his truck.

  “Wow. This is your place?” I asked, marveling at the prime piece of real estate.

  “My grandfather died a few years ago. He left me a generous inheritance.”

  “Sorry to hear about your grandfather,” I said.

  He acknowledged my condolences with a nod.

  The back house was a miniature of the big house in front. It was even painted to match. The wood exterior was white with gleaming black accents.

  "It's adorable. Like a cottage," I said.

  Rowley crooked a corner of his mouth as if to say, “How can a building be adorable?” He unhooked a key from his keychain and handed it to me. "I'll get the boxes. Light switch is to the left of the door."

  The interior seemed surprisingly spacious. I took a quick inventory of the front room. There was a leather sofa and a pine coffee table with drawers. I glimpsed a fridge and a small table with two chairs in the kitchen.

  Rowley refused my help and unloaded all the boxes from the back of his truck.

  He stacked them against the wall. “Did you see the whole place?”

  Somehow it had felt rude to walk through without him. “I was waiting for you.”

  I trailed after him down a short hallway. He opened a door. There was a brass bed and a pine dresser.

  "The mattress is new," he said.

  I peeked my head into the bathroom. It was small but modern. "It's perfect. You should really charge me rent."

  He shook his head.

  I followed him to the front door. He stopped in the doorway and turned. He leaned against the door jamb, his arms folded across his chest. I tried not to focus on his big biceps.

  "So, who did you marry?"

  "Finn Newton. He's the singer for Heart's Forgery." They were probably the best known hometown band going right now, and possibly on the verge of making it big nationally. Actually, more than just possibly, considering I’d heard one of Finn’s songs on the radio recently.

  Rowley just looked at me blankly. Of course, he was too busy saving lives and putting out fires to keep up with local bands.

  "Can’t believe you’re still into that scene."

  "You mean despite the fact that you embarrassed the hell out of me?"

  "Shit, Harper, no fucking way was I going to leave you in that dive.” His eyes locked on mine. "Is that why you've been avoiding me for years?"

  So my absence at barbecues and other get-togethers hadn't gone unnoticed.

  "I wasn't avoiding you. I guess our paths just never crossed."

  He shook his head and gave me an incredulous smile. He clearly didn't believe a word I was saying.

  It had actually been an incident far more humiliating than that one. An incident engineered by his girlfriend. It pained me so much that I'd worked out ways to suppress it. Unfortunately, I wasn't always successful.

  "Why'd you marry him?"

  So we were back on that subject again. "A mix of impulsivity, a trigger, and too many shots of tequila."

  "What was the trigger?"

  That question left me momentarily speechless. I felt my cheeks color.

  You, Rowley Ford. You were the trigger.

  My brother had texted me some images from the annual fireman's ball. Rowley receiving a medal of valor. Rowley standing with his longtime girlfriend, Kat. My jealousy had been the catalyst to get married.

  And I'd kept no secrets from Finn. Even knowing my heart belonged (unrequitedly) to someone else, he still wanted to get married, so I thought, why the hell not?

  I gave my head a shake, hoping that would suffice as an answer.

  Rowley was studying me. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

  "Sorry, it's too embarrassing to talk about." I shrugged. "At any rate, I realized pretty quickly that marriage wasn't for me."

  "That's it? You get hitched to some assh
ole and now you're writing off marriage for good and all."

  "He's not an asshole. He just wants...wanted," I quickly corrected, "too much of my attention."

  In truth, he was a bit of an asshole. Finn hadn't just wanted too much attention, he'd drained me. He saw himself as some sort of rock-god who needed to be catered to all day.

  Marrying him had been a self-destructive, transference impulse. The man I truly adored, would always adore, was Rowley, but he didn't need that from me or want it, so, of course, why not marry a guy who demanded that adoration.

  "Isn't that what groupies are for?" he asked.

  I felt insulted on Finn's behalf. Fooling around with fans was not one of his faults. "He's not like that. He's a loyal guy. I was the problem. I'm not cutout to be a wife."

  "Sweetheart, you're far too young to be saying shit like that."

  "Rowley are you lecturing me about marriage? I don't see a ring on your finger." Rowley being a local legend, his on-and-off again relationship with his high school sweetheart had been the talk of the town. The scuttlebutt was Kat wanted marriage and he didn't. Everybody assumed she was calling his bluff, and that she'd get that diamond ring in the end.

  His mouth ticked up in an enigmatic smile, as if he knew I'd heard the gossip. He pushed off the doorframe and checked his watch. "Have to finish my shift. Go grab your phone so you can type in my number."

  Finding my phone was easy, typing in his name and number was the hard part. My fingers were trembling. He took it from me and finished punching in the information.

  “I just rang my number so I’d have your info,” he said and handed the phone back. "Call me if you need anything."

  I smiled up at him.

  "Have you always had dimples?" he asked. "Hell, what am I saying? Of course, you have."

  "Thanks for letting me stay here.”

  "No problem. You're like a baby sister to me."

  I managed a smile though I wanted to scream. I would forever and always be the annoying brat who tagged along after him.

  I shut the door. The emotions roiling through me at being in Rowley's presence had sapped me of all my energy. After I heard his truck pull out, I made myself walk out to my car and pop the trunk. I began carrying in the pieces of my drum kit.