by J. M. Dabney
“I always felt like I was playing dress up. Appearances were everything. It was tiring.”
She frowned at the sadness in his voice. He always seemed to be smiling. It was disconcerting to see the man unhappy; she didn’t like it. She decided to change the subject.
“What was it like living in New York City?”
She occasionally went to Atlanta to shop with Twitch or Elijah. Sometimes she thought about packing up and moving back, somewhere she could be invisible or start over.
“Noisy.”
“Tell me the good things.”
“Well…” Ghost shifted closer. “I grew up there. Everything was normal. There were the shows. Galleries. Parties, but there were also the mundane things that happen everywhere no matter big city or small town. Since I moved here, I found I liked the quiet and laid-back pace.”
“Do you ever get lonely out here,” she asked as she rolled to face him, hugging the pillow to her chest.
She didn’t feel like she needed a shield against Ghost, but years of guarding herself against violence and pain putting something between them was an involuntary response.
“Everyone gets lonely.”
“If you don’t want—”
“It isn’t that I don’t want to answer, I’m just trying to come up with a response that doesn’t make me sound pathetic.”
“You couldn’t sound pathetic.”
“Gregory invited me here to meet Bull, I always said I had too much to do. The truth was, I was miserable and hiding.”
“Did you love your partner?”
Calloused roughened fingertips danced along the back of her hand. She clenched her fingers around the pillow to disguise the shaking. She hid her face as his fingers eased between hers.
“I was an eighteen-year-old kid, I thought I loved him—”
“But?”
She quietly chuckled when he sighed and rolled to his back, yet he never let go of her hand. He seemed to hold on a little tighter while his thumb stroked over her skin. She knew it was silly, but she couldn’t help the butterflies that circled in her stomach. She stayed on her side and studied his profile. His beard was long and thick, perfectly groomed. His chest powerful and his belly rounded and yet firm. She wondered what it would be like to curl up against his side. She’d never cuddled before, she wondered—
“I loved him in the beginning, then he cheated the first time. I was in my early twenties. I forgave him, but it was never the same. After a while, it turns into routine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. Why don’t you talk about yourself more?”
“I’m not all that interesting.”
“You might not think so. Would you mind if I asked you some questions? You can always refuse to answer.”
“O…okay.”
“You’re a nurse, why don’t you work at the local clinic?”
“I didn’t finish. I had an—”
“You had a what?”
“I was going to say accident. I had to drop out and just never went back.” She glanced at the leather of her cuffs. Thick and dark brown, just wide enough to hide everything but the edges of her scars. “It wasn’t my calling. I love sitting with Nettie though. Her lucid moments are longer now.”
“Why wasn’t it your calling,” he asked.
“I don’t know. I loved the caretaker aspect, but I wasn’t crazy about the blood.”
“Understandable.”
“What do you want from me?”
She flinched, rolled to her back and froze before the question had completely passed her lips. Her survival instinct kicked in and she prepared for the hit she was sure was coming. Her respiration increased as fear stole through her. It was always the first mistake, the justification for the first slap or punch. No, not justification, she didn't deserve—
“Hey, look at me please,” Ghost implored.
He was so close his breath caressed her cheek, and his palm cupped her opposite one, gently urged her to turn toward him. She kept her eyes tightly closed. Trusting the tenderness of his tone warred with her inherent urge to survive.
“Okay, you don't have to look at me, just listen.”
Ghost's beard and mustache tickled her cheek as his firm lips brushed the sensitive skin below her ear.
“At this moment, I don’t want anything from you, just this. Conversation, your presence, your smile and rare laughs. One day I’ll want a date, in the outside world, holding your hand and not see this…” His rough fingertip stroked the grooves she knew were between her brows. “On your face. I like you. I think you’re beautiful. And one day I hope you’ll believe me. That’s it, no ulterior motives. I only want to spend time with you.”
The warm tickle of tears from under her lashes and slipping down her cheeks preceded a sob she barely concealed.
“Shh, Harper,” Ghost whispered.
Her cries increased as he kissed away the salty drops of her tears at the corner of her right eye.
“It’s okay, come here.”
Ghost’s voice was gentle, filled with a tenderness she’d never heard directed at her before. He rolled her toward him with a soft pressure on her hip and her body laid fully against his. Her flat stomach conformed to the firm curve of his, and his powerful rounded pecs pressed to her small breasts. One of his thighs were as thick as both of hers. She trembled uncontrollably at the overwhelming sensation of being held for the first time in years—if ever.
She had never felt as delicate as she did as his large hand splayed across her lower back.
“You’re probably exhausted, how about we just take a nap and when we wake up, I’ll make us some food.”
She couldn’t answer around the knot in her throat and did something she had always wanted to do, she cuddled. She shifted into closer contact with Ghost. Absorbed his warmth, the smoky scent of his skin and nuzzled his beard with her forehead. A small smile pulled at her mouth as his beard tickled her nose and all she could do was move closer. She didn’t want to think about anything other than that moment. A memory she could hold onto when Ghost grew tired of her, and she needed something to remind her that, at one time, she was safe.
Six
Be Patient, Ghost, This is Harper’s Show
The sweet fragrance of flowers and rich soil surrounded him as he sat at his workbench in his greenhouse and created the perfect bouquet for Harper. Keeping his hands busy kept him from reaching for the phone to call her. They exchanged texts throughout the day, he called in the evenings to check how her day was, but the last time he’d spoken to her was two days ago.
He knew he needed to be patient. His heart broke when she’d asked what he wanted from her. When she’d started to cry, all he could do was hold her. He wanted her story. Her trust. It needed to be Harper’s show, her pace, however slow that might be.
He wasn’t some Alpha male like most of his friends. He was quiet and unassuming. He didn’t have the bad boy allure. He had lived with his one and only for eighteen years. It hadn’t all been bad times, but most of it had. Their time together had been them leading separate lives. He had his business and friends, Joe had his Accounting Firm and innumerable lovers. They’d turned into roommates. No love existed between them, sometimes not even like.
He laid out the colorful arrangement and wrapped it in brown paper, then tied it with twine. It was a mix of pinks, purples, and bright greens. It was made with every plant he’d noticed she touched when he showed her around his greenhouse Sunday. Tulips, Lavender, Pink Roses, Lilac and several more. It was a large bouquet, but he wanted to make her something over the top.
He’d also ordered her the perfect orchid from a friend in New York.
“That’s gorgeous,” Twitched squealed behind him.
He turned to find Twitch bouncing. The young man was always so happy and positive. He’d learned that hadn’t always been the case.
“Is that for Harper,” Twitched asked with a wide smile.
He gently caressed
the soft petals. “Yes, it is. Do you think she’ll like it?”
“She’ll love it. And why did I have to hear from Joker you’ve been dating Harper?”
“We’re not dating, as much as I wish, she hasn’t said yes to anything more than a dinner last Sunday.”
“That’s huge though, Harper’s very introverted. Other than spending time with Nettie or when we drag her out to hang out with us, she spends the rest of her time working.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that feeling.” He set the bouquet aside and stood, turning toward Twitch.
“You’re going to have to be patient.”
“This I know.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on the edge of his worktable.
“Why didn’t anyone ever try—”
“We all tried. We invited her to Crew events. When she sits with Nettie, we try to get her to stay longer just to talk. Joker has threatened the life of every person who even looked at her sideways.”
“Why—”
“Harper is only a few years older than me, and I remembered her growing up. Current life and past, she’s always been small and delicate, they said she was premature like me. She was always sweet and quiet, and they gave her hell in school. That didn’t change after she graduated. Harper earned a scholarship for college. She was only gone a year before she was back.”
“Why did she come back?”
“Probably the usual story, it wasn’t different outside the limits of Powers, same shit different bullies.”
“She said the other night, the Devil you know—”
“Is better than the one you don’t. Harper is this amazing woman who doesn’t see it.”
“So, me telling her—”
“You have to show her, Ghost, by being you. Sweet and charming, considerate. I’m pretty positive men haven’t ever been like that with her even when all they wanted to do was fuck her.”
“I don’t want to fuck her.”
Twitch arched a perfectly groomed brow.
“Don’t be an asshole, you’ve been with Crave way too long. Yes, I find her extremely sexually attractive, but that isn’t all I see.”
“You’re too easy, of course you don’t see her as some sex toy for your Alpha male cock strong bullshit.”
“Alpha, I’m not.”
“I’m pretty sure you have it in you, but that’s neither here nor there at the moment. I have a favor to ask.”
“Oh shit, what?”
“You’re so fucking suspicious.”
Twitch placed his hands on his slim hips and cocked one to the side. The little impish grin made him nervous and slightly terrified.
“Justifiably so.”
“Ha ha, I checked with King, you don’t have another gig for a few weeks. Psycho and Ben’s anniversary is coming up, Stacey and Bernie deserve a break, with Brawlers and all we don’t have—”
“I’ll watch the twins and Sawyer.”
Psycho, Ben, Bernie, and Stacey’s youngest, Sawyer, was only a few months old. The co-parenting relationship between the two couples fascinated him in the fact they made it seem so effortless.
He’d watched the Crew’s kids plenty over the last two years. He was like the go-to babysitter, and he loved it when the kids would run around and play in the fields.
“You’re the fucking best. We’ve already rented the cabins and arranged for romantic dinners, it’s perfectly planned. Stacey has pumped and frozen enough milk for a few days.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine. When do I get them?”
“Next weekend, we’ll drop them off Friday night and pick up Sunday.”
“I’ll need all their gear.”
“We’ll make sure you have everything, and if an emergency comes up, Elijah or me will bring whatever you need. You going to drop that off or did you want me to deliver your girl some flowers?”
“Would you? I’m trying to be patient, and I don’t want to—”
“Crowd her when she isn’t ready?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Write her a little note to go along with those flowers.”
He grinned and turned to his bench. He wished he had something prettier than a yellow notepad. He grabbed a pen in his left hand and quickly jotted down a note. Carefully he folded it and slipped it between the brown paper and flowers, then he held out the bouquet.
“I’ll drop them off on my way to see Nettie.”
“Thanks, Twitch.”
“I love playing matchmaker.”
He chuckled as Twitch bounced yet held the flowers carefully.
“Don’t get those hopes up too high. She might not even see me the way I want her to.”
“Impossible, you’ve got that sexy, cuddly Prince Charming thing going for you.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Shut up, man, you got this. Now, let me make this important delivery.”
Twitch hugged him and held on for a few minutes, he gently stroked the younger man’s back. The man loved affection. Crave was pretty possessive of his husband, but when Crave wasn’t around, Twitch found comfort in his friends.
He walked Twitch to his car, said goodbye and he watched Twitch until the small vehicle disappeared at the end of the driveway. He wondered what Harper would think of his gift. Maybe the arrangement was too big, but it had all the flowers she seemed to like.
He sighed as he turned to head back to his greenhouse. He wouldn’t agonize over it. Harper deserved to be treated like she mattered. He didn’t want to hope for too much. Yes, she’d allowed him to hold her as she slept. Let him hold her hand as they walked through his fields and greenhouse.
Harper was innocent and skittish, even with the life she’d led, she still blushed at something as innocent as him holding her hand. She needed romance and tenderness, and that was just what he was going to give her. Because the woman he liked deserved it all.
Seven
She had Never Gotten Flowers Before
Ghost had picked her flowers, arranged the most beautiful bouquet she had ever seen, and she didn’t know how to process. She had wanted to call him so many times since Sunday. She’s woken to find her face tucked against his neck and his arms tight around her. She buried her face in the flowers and inhaled.
“He wrote you a note.”
She glanced up to find Twitch smiling at her, and his eyes twinkled. Her fingers shook as she found the yellow paper. She kept the flowers on her lap as she unfolded the note.
Miss the sound of your voice, please call when you’re ready. Hope you like the flowers. G.
“He likes you.”
“But why?”
She still didn’t understand. She wasn’t special or all that pretty, her body was a roadmap of scar tissue, and more often than not, bruises. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked at her naked body for more than a glance.
“Don’t start your bullshit, Harper. Ghost is the premier catch around here. He doesn’t think so, but he’s been coming into Brawlers for years and never once—”
“He’s gay?”
“I don’t think gender really matters to him. As far as I know, he’s Bi.”
“Maybe he won’t find me attractive if—”
“Stop it!”
She jerked her gaze up to find Twitch pulling at his long, dark hair. She bent forward to place her flowers on the coffee table.
“What?”
“You’re devising all these what-if scenarios in your head. He’s a nice guy. Picked flowers and arranged them. Sent them through me because he doesn’t want to crowd you if you’re not ready.”
She made sure the sidewalk outside was deserted. The only way she was going to get any advice she needed was by opening up, but that wasn’t exactly her style.
“We cuddled,” she blurted out.
“Was he a gentleman?”
“Yes.”
“Come on, Harper, details, woman, details,” Twitch demanded.
She laughed softly as Twitch starte
d bouncing. The man was way too excitable. She loved Twitch, but sometimes the man was exhausting.
“There’s nothing to give details about. He let me take a nap, and I cuddled up to him. Just held me.”
“Did you like it?”
“I don’t…don’t know.”
“What don’t you know about?”
Just as she was about to answer she didn’t know again, the chime over the door drew her attention. A tall, lanky man with impeccable hair and a rumpled suit walked in. She smiled at her best friend, Kyle, the man was a mess.
“What are you doing here?”
“Do I need an excuse to see my best friend in the whole world,” Kyle asked.
“Yes, especially when it’s the middle of the day, and you’re normally chained to your desk.”
Kyle flopped down beside her and fell to the side to lay his head on her lap. She rolled her eyes, and he batted his lashes.
“We’ve been friends since first grade, and I know those fluttering lashes well.”
“I’m hearing these rumors.”
“It’s a small town, which rumors would you be speaking about?”
“A certain beautiful blonde has been spending some time with a certain ginger farmer who plays in a band.”
“And how would you…Joker.”
“Didn’t take you long to answer your own question.”
“Joker’s a bigger gossip than anyone I’ve ever met.” Twitch grabbed his huge to-go cup with both hands.
Twitch plus caffeine or sugar was never a good idea, but she’d assumed Twitch would’ve already headed home by now. Twitch was a menace on coffee and Ben knew that.
“So, why the hell wasn’t I told?”
“There’s nothing to tell—”
“That’s only because she keeps playing the what-if game and not giving Ghost a chance.”
“Ghost?”
“His real name is Gideon.”
“Sounds like a Knight in Shining Armor or a Prince Charming.”
She rolled her eyes again at Kyle and leaned back into the cushion. She should've never told Kyle about the whole Prince Charming thing, she was eleven at the time. It figured Kyle would never forget it.