She was good for his ego.
He could tell himself it was because she was less experienced than the women he typically slept with. Or that it was because of her books and that she had a few fantasies she was bringing to life with him. Maybe that was part of it. He had no trouble being part of her fantasies. He knew the hot, gritty, dirty stuff she liked to read, and if she wanted any of that, he’d happily deliver.
But he thought the olives and shopping for baby car seats were also part of how all this felt. For both of them.
Strangely.
He loved it.
“We should go get Isaac,” she finally said softly against his chest.
“Yep.”
They lay for another few seconds.
“So you should probably get up.” She stroked her hands up and down his back.
James felt his cock stir just from that.
She did, too. She laughed. “That’s not what I meant by getting up.”
He laughed and hugged her. “You might need to get used to that.”
“I think I can handle it.” She ran a hand down his side, but he trapped it under his hand before she got to wandering too far.
“I’ll give you all kinds of chances to handle it, Professor,” he said. “After we get the kid back and settled in his own bed for the night.”
Harper didn’t say anything right away, and he cranked his neck to look down at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah. That just sounded… really nice.” She looked up. “I like all of this.”
He did, too. Maybe too much. “Same.”
“It’s happened really fast.”
“That’s how it goes sometimes.”
“That’s probably the part I’m not as used to. I think things through. Plan. Analyze.”
He nodded. “Which makes the way you’re just rolling with this even more awesome.”
She gave him a little smile. “It’s mostly because I’ve been wanting to get you naked for months now.”
He snorted. “Sure.”
“I’m serious.”
“You just had to ask, Professor. At any point. Any point.”
She looked completely serious when she said, “I know. That’s why I didn’t.”
That hit him a little harder in the chest than he would have expected. “You thought I was just fucking around.”
“I did. At first,” she admitted.
“And now?”
“You don’t fuck around.” She frowned slightly as if that had just occurred to her. “I guess I’m learning that there’s a big difference between having fun and fucking around.”
“You don’t do either one?” That should surprise him, but it didn’t. She seemed content. She seemed sure of herself and like she was living a life she chose and doing things she wanted to be doing, but she didn’t present a picture of fun, exactly. Not by a traditional definition. Not by his definition as of six months ago.
Huh. His definition of fun had changed, too. Interesting.
“I… enjoy things.” She gave him a little smile as she clearly thought back to her use of that word during sex.
Again, his body stirred.
“I enjoy things,” she said again, as if more sure now that she’d given it a little thought. “But I suppose it all feels thoughtful and intentional. Not spontaneous and fly by the seat of my pants. That’s never been me.”
Thoughtful and intentional did seem like her. Those were great words, actually.
“But I think that you’re a lot more thoughtful than you come across,” she said. “You make an impression on people. People see the caregiver you are even in short interactions—like the little boy in his classroom with Henry,” she said. “You are not frivolous. You’re fun, but you don’t fuck around.” She seemed to have made a decision because she gave a little nod.
“So where’s your thoughtfulness and intention come from?” he asked.
“I was an only child,” she said. “And my parents were—are—very studious people. My mother was a teacher. My dad was a lawyer. When we took trips, it was for a purpose and well planned. We enjoyed it. But we didn’t accidentally end up in the wrong town or spontaneously take a side trip or strike up random conversations.
We socialized, but it was never a last-minute decision, and it was never anywhere… chaotic.” She seemed to be thinking hard about all of that, analyzing it.
“We never went to theme parks or amusement parks. We went to plays and movies and even ball games, but it was always something that we needed to plan for, have tickets for, that had start-and-end times. It was never to places that were just-show-up-and-do-whatever-comes-up-when-you-get-there places.” She frowned.
“I never realized that until now,” she said, looking up at him. “Or I never really thought about it. But everything was planned. So now, I feel most comfortable when I have a plan. I find the Quarter fascinating because it’s full of such a mix of people and activities, and it’s never the same day to day. So I kind of watch it from a distance. But my life in the midst of it is still very ordered. Classes start and end at a certain time. I’m in charge of what happens during those class periods. At least… until I get home.” She gave him a little smile. “I never know what might show up outside my door.”
James settled his hand on her ass in what he recognized as a possessive move. He wanted to keep her. Yes, right here with him on this couch, naked and satisfied and warm and soft and wet. But also just in general. He wanted to keep her. But he kept bringing chaos to her door. Was that really okay?
“Sorry ’bout that,” he finally said.
“Don’t be.”
“No?”
“Nah. I’ve got a hot firefighter living across the landing to help me out.”
He lifted a brow. “My job and schedule is definitely chaotic. I never know what’s going to happen or truly how long it’s going to last. Generally, of course, but as you’ve learned, things can change pretty quickly.”
“And you deal with it,” she said. “No matter what it is. Even when you’ve come over here for ‘help,’ you really just wanted to flirt. You would have dealt with all of it if I’d told you to get lost.”
James felt warmth spread through his chest and gut. Not the heat this woman so often created in him but true warmth.
“I’m glad you didn’t do that,” he said.
“Me too.” She gave him a soft smile.
A woman like Harper Broussard liking him mattered.
He gave her a little smack on the ass. “Stop trying to seduce me, Professor. I got a kid I gotta take care of before I bend you over the island in my kitchen and lick your pussy until you scream the way I’ve been thinking about since the day I found you feeding Henry mealworms there.”
She clearly didn’t know how to respond to any of that. She was staring at him, clearly shocked and turned on and amused and slightly scandalized and yeah, turned on. He leaned in and kissed her long and deep and full of promise that he hoped she understood.
He lifted his head, and she cleared her throat.
“Okay, yeah, we should definitely go get him.”
She’d said we. He would have been okay with her just climbing into his bed and waiting for him to get back. Naked, of course. But she wanted to come along to pick the baby up from Bea? That was great.
“Then let’s get going. I need you again. Soon.”
She gave him a hot look. “Same.”
Thirty minutes later, they were on Bea’s front porch. James had a sleeping baby boy in his arms, and Harper had a chicken casserole in one hand and a pan of some kind of pasta in the other.
“The support group knows better than anyone what it’s like to have a newborn at home,” Bea said. “There’s no time to do anything, it seems, and when you do have a break, you should be trying to sleep. So we’ve got these dinners for you, and we’re sending dinner over from Trahan’s on Sunday night. Also a couple of my granddaughters are going to come clean both of your apartments on Saturday. And I’ll be coming by to pick up
laundry on Thursday.”
“You do not have do clean and do our laundry,” Harper protested.
“Oh, don’t be silly. I’m doing laundry that night anyway,” Bea said. “And my grandson is grounded for missing curfew, so that gives him more folding to do, which is the perfect punishment. I make him do it in the living room with me while I watch my mystery shows.”
“Mystery shows?” James asked.
“Oh yeah, you know the unsolved mystery ones. I always find the episodes where some teenager was a brat and went to a party and was never heard from again when he’s watching with me.”
“Wow,” James said. He looked down at Isaac. “Should I be taking notes?”
“Nah,” Bea told him. “Just come talk to me again when he’s fourteen. I’ll have all kinds of tips and tricks.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that they’re fail-proof. Obviously. Little shits. But I love them. And I tell them that my job isn’t to make them happy, it’s to make them people that the rest of the word is happy to have around. There is a difference. At least at this point in their lives.”
James grinned. He loved the idea of the support group still being around and the people still friends, sharing advice, and helping each other out when Isaac was fourteen. The idea that Isaac would be fourteen with him also gave him a little jolt of emotion that felt like a mix of fear and happiness.
He looked at Harper.
He’d sure like to have her still around when Isaac was missing curfew and he was making punishments stick and dealing with heavy sighs and eye rolls and slamming bedroom doors.
It was too soon to tell her that. He knew that. But it was right on the tip of his tongue.
“Well, I’m never going to turn down home cooking from anyone,” Harper said. “But we’ll take the help with at least James’s apartment.” She looked up at him. “That’s where we’ll be now most of the time.”
He gave her nod. “Yes, we will.”
They got the baby and the food settled in the car, and he looked over at her. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For letting them help us out.”
She nodded. “I’m learning that it’s nice to have a team.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve never done a lot of that,” she admitted. “Always been very self-sufficient. But it’s nice to have someone who can be there for my dog when I can’t be and someone who’ll fix my dishwasher when it stops working.”
He reached over then grabbed her hand, lifting it to his lips.
“It’s also nice to have people who will come over and listen to you freak out about discovering you’re suddenly a parent and someone who can come over and reassure you that the baby is healthy.”
“Do you have people to listen to you freak out?” he asked. He didn’t know anything about her friend group. She didn’t have people over to the apartment, and if she went out, it had to have been on nights he was at work or the club because she was always home when he was.
She shook her head. “I meant your friends. They came straight over. They gave you a hard time, but they were there.”
He nodded. “They’re the best.”
“You get good friends when you are a good friend.”
He loved his friends. He was lucky to have them. “And when you introduce them to erotic romance,” he said lightly.
She smiled. “I have one friend at school and she’s great.”
“Have you told her about me?” he asked, lifting her hand to his lips again and kissing it then dragged his lips back and forth, scraping lightly with his evening stubble. He loved the little shiver that produced and knew her nipples had tightened. His tongue tingled with the memory of how they’d felt and tasted against it. He wanted more.
“I have,” Harper said, a little breathlessly.
“What have you told her?”
“That you’re a firefighter,” she said with a little smile that made his cock harden.
“Knew it.” He gave her a grin.
She laughed then leaned in closer. “And that I want you. That I know I probably shouldn’t. That you’re young and love to go out and that we have nothing in common. But that I have dirty dreams about you and that you make me laugh and that I think about you when you’re not around and that the sound of your boots on the steps always make my heartbeat speed up.”
James's own heartbeat sped up with that, and he lifted a hand to the back of her head and brought her in. “Fucking love that.” He kissed her, hot and hard. But then he pulled back. “I’m not too young for you, Professor.”
She nodded. “I think that was just an excuse to keep from getting involved.”
“Why did you want to keep from getting involved?”
“Seemed easier not to.”
He took a breath and looked over his shoulder at the baby in the back seat. “Well, that was for damned sure.” He’d sucked her into all this. Inadvertently, but still, she was now smack dab in the middle of a lot of craziness. None of which was her responsibility and that she hadn’t chosen.
He felt her hand on his chin, turning him back to look at her. “It’s okay.”
“You sure?” He wanted it to be okay, but he did want her to be sure. It was probably too late to really be asking that, though. He should have asked that, thought of all this, before she’d gone to the store for formula that first night.
But he really didn’t want her to bail now.
He would do this on his own if he had to.
He really didn’t want to, though.
He had to give her a chance to get out. If they found Isaac’s mom. Or if they didn’t.
He hadn’t told her that one of the women he had on his list was a real long shot. It was possible he’d never be able to track her down. Especially if she didn’t want to be found. Whether that made things easier or harder was yet to be seen.
“I’m… pretty sure,” Harper said after a long moment.
He appreciated her honesty.
“It’s a lot,” she admitted. “But I don’t regret getting involved.”
“It’s the endorphins from the orgasms,” he teased. He was only half teasing. Why this was all hitting him right now, he couldn’t say. But he’d been so damned glad to have her there for all this and thinking about how amazing it was that she’d just step up like this for him and this baby that he hadn’t really thought about what a huge deal it was that she was actually doing that.
“Oh, I’m sure that’s part of it,” she said with a smile. “And the fact that I want about a hundred more of those from you.”
His body reacted in spite of his brain trying hard to be reasonable and decent.
He wanted her. In his bed. Every fucking night. He wanted her in his apartment, the scent of her shampoo in his bathroom, her coffee cup in his kitchen sink, her shoes by his front door. And yeah, he wanted to come home to find her rocking his son to sleep.
That was not reasonable.
“Harper, you don’t have to do all of this. I… should have said this before. I should have thought this before. You don’t have to take all of this on.”
She frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Isaac. Looking for his mom. The late-night feedings. The diapers and…” He shrugged. “Everything. This isn’t your responsibility.”
“I want to.”
Did she? Or was she just a good person who couldn’t say no? Or was she an uber-responsible person who didn’t quite trust him to not screw it up? Did she still see the guy standing in front of her with a tree that he didn’t even know produced olives, using it as a way to hit on a woman?
“Because you’re worried about me and Isaac?”
“Yes.” She didn’t even blink. “This is a lot for you to handle, James. You don’t need to do it alone.”
“I have a lot of friends who will step up.” As they’d proven.
“But I’m right there. And we’re a good team,” she said.
He could tell she was confused by this sudden resistanc
e on his part and the way he seemed to be trying to push her away. She should be confused. He wasn’t sure where all this was coming from exactly, either.
On the heels of hot sex? Where the hell were his endorphins?
But that was it. He’d now had the best sex of his life with the bookworm professor across the landing, who was turning out to be so much more than that. He was already so comfortable with her in his life. He was already coming to depend on her in crazy ways. This all felt good. Great. Perfect.
He wasn’t pushing her away. At least he hadn’t been. But he maybe should be. If not pushing, offering her a way out.
“What’s going on?”
He looked into her eyes. “I’m just realizing that I’ve gotten very comfortable with you using the word “we.” I love it. I want it. And that’s not fair. This isn’t really a we thing. This is me, and I’ve been cajoling you into it from the beginning. Just like the tree and Henry and Fred.”
Harper looked confused and concerned. “This is sudden.”
He looked up at Bea’s front door. “It just hit me. You’re usually at home in your chair reading at this time of the night. It would be one thing if we were just at my apartment finally having hot sex, but we’re also here picking up my son from the babysitter’s and collecting casseroles from my friends.”
“Oh.” Harper sat back in her seat. “Oh.”
He wasn’t sure what the two ohs were for. But it didn’t sound good.
“What?”
“It just all got real and domestic to you.”
He frowned. “More real and domestic than changing poopy diapers? No.”
“Yes. The first night was all just crazy, and you were shocked he was even there, and you were—we were—kind of just going on instinct and making it through. Not to mention the being in bed together the first time and the shower and everything. It wasn’t routine or normal. But now this”—she gestured at the truck and the casserole dishes on the floor at her feet—“is a lot more normal, and you’re realizing that it’s happening really fast.”
“I’m trying to give you an out,” he said with a frown.
“Sure,” she said. “Because if I take an out, you’ll have an out.”
“Why would I want an out?”
“Because now we’ve finally had sex.”
Getting Off Easy Page 14