by Evie Nichole
“Is that how you usually talk to him?” George asked.
“Oh, honey,” Kimmy giggled, “You’ve just been asking to be teased.”
George shot his wife a look. “Or for something else.”
With a sudden cackle, Kimmy rocked forward. “I can’t breathe.”
“It was just a slip of the tongue,” Harbour snapped, glaring at her mother when she fell back into childish giggling. “Grow up.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Kimmy waved her hand in front of her face before tossing Harbour a dishtowel. “Can you mop that up, please?”
Harbour looked down at the puddle of coffee that was now on the tiles. “He spilled it.”
“He’s the guest,” her father added in a rumble, “That I’m pretty sure you just sexually harassed.”
“Stop it,” Harbour snapped.
Reluctantly, she crouched down and began to soak up the still-steaming liquid. Who on earth would drink coffee this late at night anyway? Derek watched her, his annoying smile still in place even as he struggled with Jareth. Once she got the last of it up. she shot to her feet.
“You can just put him down.”
Derek gave Jareth one last scratch and put him back on the floor.
“Better?” His eyes trailed over her as he fought the bemused expression that obviously wanted to settle onto his face. “What are you wearing?”
“Pyjamas.”
“From the 1800s?”
She balled her hands in the loose, flowing nightgown that fell to her ankles.
“It happens to be very comfortable.”
“Do you own anything that isn’t flannel?”
“I do. A set of pyjamas that I just recently destroyed. You’re also buying me new slippers, by the way.”
“Do I get to pick them out?”
“Why do you care what I wear?”
He shrugged. “I have to look at it.”
Kimmy rounded the kitchen island and gave Harbour a kiss on the cheek. “He has a point, dear.”
“Please remember that you are my parents, so are supposed to be on my side.”
“Doesn’t stop your clothes from being ugly,” George said.
He pushed himself up from the table and followed his wife to the reading area. The door to their bedroom was tucked away in the corner, hidden in the shadow of a strategically placed bookshelf.
“Where are you guys going?”
“Bed,” George called back. “Big day tomorrow.”
Harbour couldn’t help the sting of betrayal she felt as she watched them close the door, leaving her alone with their new house guest. Her adrenaline crash had left her weak, tired, and hungry. There were a few slices of cold pizza left but none of them with the toppings she liked.
She still had to set up his bed, had forgotten to turn on her electric blanket, and was now stuck sharing her bathroom once more. This whole night had become a rather impressive disappointment. Dropping a few slices of pizza onto a plate she tossed them in the microwave, purposefully ignoring Derek’s attention.
“You parents are nice.”
“You only think that because they took your side.”
“There are sides now?”
The microwave beeped and she removed the slices. She almost dropped them when she turned around and found Derek had once again closed the distance between them.
“Stop doing that.”
“Pay more attention,” he countered. “Your parents said that you will set up a bedroom for me.”
“Can’t I just throw you a sleeping bag?” she groaned. Derek raised his eyebrows and slowly shook his head. “Fine. But I maintain that, since they invited you, they should have done this.”
“Duly noted.”
Jareth had caught the scent of the food and now trailed Harbour with renewed interest. Aside from her room tucked into the corner, the second floor had three guest rooms, a shared bathroom, and a small sitting area surrounding a cast iron fireplace. With the limited space, Derek’s size, and Jareth’s excitement, they were forced to shuffle around each other to get anywhere.
She shoved the plate at Derek and pulled some sheets from the linen closet. The first guests always got the room opposite the bathroom. It had already been stripped for the season, so she couldn’t just throw him a key and leave. As with all the guest rooms, it was small but cozy. Most of the space was taken by the king sized bed, with a small table on one side, and a single bedside table.
“Do you want an electric blanket?”
Harbour looked over her shoulder and found him lingering in the doorway.
“Whatever you think.”
“I’ll pop it on,” she mumbled and began to fix everything in place.
Jareth whined as he scratched at Derek’s leg and eyed the plant. For his part, Derek ignored him, more interested in the plush toys that were stacked on the table. He picked through them and selected an orca for a closer look. It looked tiny and odd in the palm of his large hand.
“They’re just for decoration,” Harbour shrugged. “People like them.”
Derek nodded and looked out at the hall. “Where’s your room?”
“End of the hall.” She hesitated as she shoved the pillows into their cases. “Why?”
“Just curious.”
“Bathroom’s across the hall. We’re sharing it, so put the seat down.”
“I’ve never shared a bathroom before.”
“Well, if we’re not up to your standards, you can go to your hotel. The one you own. That’s only like a fifteen-minute walk away.”
Derek gave a dismissive grunt as he picked up a toy moose. “I kind of like it here.”
Harbour pushed the duvet into place and couldn’t fight the slither of guilt that crawled into her stomach. Compared to him, she really didn’t have anything to complain about. It looked like the only things that would survive the fire were the suitcases he had left outside. At least there had been some clothes in them. It would have been a nightmare to try and find his size around here. She tossed the pillows into place and straightened.
“There’s a spare toothbrush under the bathroom sink.”
He was still taking in the room as he nodded.
“Just knock on my door if you need anything.”
Again, he only nodded.
“You can let Jareth sleep in here if you want,” she said. “If you don’t, be careful heading out into the hall. He picks the most random places to sleep and you will trip over him.”
She winced. Her attempt at a joke had sounded strained even to herself. But at least it earned her some eye contact. Without the sharpened edge of mockery, Derek’s soft smile warmed his hazel eyes, relaxed his features, and turned his voice to a pleasant husk.
“Thank you, Harbour.”
A flush crept up her neck as he continued to watch her. She snatched the plate from his hand and bit off a large chunk of pizza.
“Don’t mention it,” she mumbled around the mouthful and almost ran to the safety of her room.
***
The glow from a street lamp seeped through his thin curtains and bathed the room in a buttery light. Derek lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the hours creep past. Beside him, Jareth huffed in his sleep and shuffled to take up even more room. Exhaustion pressed down on him like an iron weight but still he couldn’t slip into sleep.
The house settled and released a constant stream of creaks and groans. Outside, the storm was gathering and whipped the wind into a howling frenzy. Each noise grabbed his attention and jerked him back from the precipice of sleep.
A sharp crack echoed out from deep within the house, loud enough that Jareth perked his ears. The dog lifted his head and trained his eyes on the door. Jareth didn’t move, didn’t shift his gaze, and dark possibilities began to crowd into Derek’s mind.
As quietly as he could, Derek got up from the bed and moved to the door. With one last glance at the captivated dog, Derek wrenched open the door and was met by the shadowed hallway. He couldn’t see
anything out of place but wasn’t able to convince himself that meant they were alone.
He called to Jareth and jerked his head to the door. The dog scrambled off the bed and trotted to stand at his side. Together they ventured down the hall, the floorboards sighing under their feet and his fingers clenching into fists. Jareth kept one step in front of him as they descended the stairs. Derek’s shoulders tensed and relaxed, itching for a fight as he checked through the bottom floor.
The house sat in hushed silence while the wind howled. His shoes whispered over the tiles as he moved to the kitchen window and glanced outside. The street lamp illuminated a hunk of the street and a good deal of the front yard. The wind shifted the trees and bushes swayed until the thin branches almost snapped with the strain.
Jareth released an anxious whine as he drew closer to Derek’s side. Finally, Derek moved to the front door but he hesitated with the doorknob nestled in his palm. The chill of the metal travelled up his arm with a shiver. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to settle the twist in his stomach. He flung open the door and Jareth bolted out into the yard.
It was difficult to keep Jareth in sight whileDerek scanned the shadows of the front yard. His heart thundered painfully against his ribs, his breath seized within his lungs, and the air closed around him like a frozen hand.
He remained somewhere between alert and tense until Jareth trotted back and squeezed between him and the doorjamb. With one last lingering glance over the yard, Derek closed the door and locked it into place. He checked it. And then again. The lock held firm.
It was then that a thought began to seep into the back of his skull, a soft whisper that grew until he couldn’t ignore the certainty. They were in Harbour’s room. He took the stairs two at a time and barrelled down the hall, no longer caring how loud his footsteps were.
Without hesitation he burst into her room, skidding to a stop a few feet from her bed. Harbour lay huddled under a bundle of blankets with only her hair visible. She didn’t move. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing. He edged closer, throat clenching painfully, lungs seizing.
She groaned and rolled over. Instantly, the iron band that had felt like it was squeezing the life out of Derek snapped and he could breathe again. She rubbed her knuckles against her scrunched up face. He smiled at her as she sleepily opened her eyes. The next second, she jerked upright on the bed with a sudden curse.
“What the hell, Derek?” She raked a hand over her face and lowered her voice into a sharp hiss. “So creepy.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“So, you just meant to stand there and watch me sleep? How is that better?”
Derek grasped for some kind of excuse. And almost as if answering his silent plea, Jareth pushed past him and leapt onto her bed.
“Jareth wanted to sleep with you.”
Groggily, Harbour flung an arm over Jareth’s flank, pulled him down next to her, and pressed her face against his fur. Derek’s eyes searched the room, his heartbeat slowly edging back to a normal pace. He had been so sure. Had seen it so clearly in his mind’s eye. But there she was, safe and sound, drowsily curling into the warmth of her dog like a child.
“Derek,” she groaned. “So creepy, dude.”
“Sorry.”
“Either lie down or get out, but don’t just stand there.”
He was silent for a moment. “I can stay?”
“I have to get up in like four hours, Derek,” she groaned as she put a pillow over her head. “Just wanna sleep.”
“Okay,” he nodded, his fingers twitching as he closed the door.
It latched into place with a soft clack and the room settled into a heady stillness. Harbour’s breaths had become long and deep and the wind still wailed, but there was a serenity to it. A calmness that worked on Derek’s aching muscles and strained mind.
He eased himself onto the edge of the bed but it still dipped under his weight. It was enough of a disturbance to earn him an annoyed huff from Jareth. With the dog between them, he couldn’t see Harbour as he laid back against the pillows. But he could hear her. Her steady breath, constant and rhythmic, like waves crashing against the shore. He closed his eyes and listened as sleep finally took hold.
Chapter Eight
The shrill chirping of a phone alarm broke through the layers of Harbour’s peaceful sleep, snapping her abruptly back to reality. With a pained groan, she snaked her arm out from under the warmth of the sheets and slapped at her cell phone. It skidded across the bedside table at her touch, still screaming. After several tries, she was able to coordinate her fingers enough to pick it up and tapped the snooze button with more force than necessary. It fell blissfully silent.
She squinted at the ceiling. The thin shadows of the morning stretched across the roof, shifting slightly as the rain riveted down the window glass. Evidently, the storm had come early. It was going to be freezing. Even with the sun inching up over the horizon, the night chill lingered like a fog. But the bed was warm and soft and surely five more minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone. Maybe ten. And really, she was going to be working outside and drenched to the bone most of the day. Would she really need a morning shower? She could push it to fifteen minutes.
Harbour was already pulling the covers back up as she tossed the phone onto the mattress. It was met by a low growl of rumbled protest. She was just about to reach out and give Jareth an apology pat when she realized that the noise sounded off. She snapped to the side and found her face a few inches from Derek’s.
Sleep couldn’t chase the traces of anger from his features. The corner of his mouth was turned down into a petulant frown and his dark eyebrows drew together until there was a deep crease between them. A few staggered heartbeats later she realized that the phone must have hit him in the head.
He growled again. A deep, grumbling grunt drenched with sleep, and a legitimate anger at not being asleep. He struggled but couldn’t get his eyelids more than halfway open. His hazel eyes damn near glowed when framed by his dark lashes.
“What?”
Slumber gave his voice a deep, rough edge she hadn’t heard before and a little spark sizzled down Harbour’s spine at the sound. She shifted her shoulders against the sensation and told herself sharply that it was just a trick of the cold. Eyes still hooded, his features melted into a lazy smile.
Harbour tightened her hands in the sheets and brought them tightly around herself. “What are you doing in my bed?”
The crease reappeared between his eyes. “You said I could stay.”
“On my bed. Not in my bed.”
“That was never specified.”
“It was implied.”
“Poorly.”
“Well, you can get up now.”
He closed his eyes and snuggled into the pillow. She had no other word to describe it and it broke a little bit of her brain. Derek Quintana snuggled into her pillow.
“It’s cold,” he pouted.
“Yes.”
“Five more minutes.”
“Derek —”
Her words were cut off as her phone suddenly burst into a flurry of noise and lights. Derek cracked his eyes opened and stared at her from under hooded lids.
“You should get that.”
She huffed. “You should get out of my bed.”
Derek held her gaze, his face a placid mask as he pulled the duvet over his head.
“Hey,” Harbour snapped.
“Phone,” the mound of blankets groaned.
The sound was getting irritating. So was he. But at least she could do something about the noise. She snatched up the cell and fumbled to answer the call. It took a moment to place the voice. She and Ruth had both been born in Nowhere, had grown up a few blocks from each other, and they had even worked together for a while before Ruth had taken a job at the airport. Even so, Harbour could count on one hand the number of times they had actually had conversations. And not once had it been over the phone.
“I was just worried ab
out Derek. How’s he doing?” Ruth said. “Your parents mentioned this morning that he’s staying at your house.”
“Yeah, hold on.” She cupped one palm over the phone and kicked at the pile of blankets beside of her. “Ruth wants to talk to you.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Take a message.”
“I’m not your secretary.”
“I don’t feel like getting hit on this morning, thank you.”
“She’s not trying to hit on you, you egotistical jerk,” Harbour hissed. “She’s just concerned, like a decent human being.”
Derek chuckled but never removed the blankets from his head. After huffing, loudly, so he would know he was being an idiot, Harbour turned her attention back to Ruth.
“Sorry, he’s sleeping. But I’ll let him know you called.”
“Sure you will.”
“What?”
A pained sound rolled down the phone line before Ruth continued with a sickly sweet voice. “Nothing. Have a good day, Harbour.”
The phone clicked and Harbour pulled it from her ear to stare at the screen. What the hell had just happened?
“Well?” Even muffled under layers of bedding, his voice was undeniably smug.
“Well, nothing. Call Ruth back and be polite.”
“No.”
She kicked him again. This time, her foot scraped against the hard side of his shoes. Who wore shoes to bed? The flicker of anger inside her dwindled out as the answer whispered from the back of her mind. Someone who was expecting they’d have to run.
The phone began its song again and she glared at the caller I.D. Why would Stacy call at this hour? They would see each other at the docks soon enough.
Derek groaned and sank deeper into the sheets.
“Tell them all I’m not here.”
“All?”
“Nowhere isn’t known for its wealth of eligible bachelors.”
“So what? You think everyone is going to be so enthralled by you that they’ll keep calling me?”
“My phone was in my house.”
“Of for the love of —”
“Just tell them I’m not here.”
“No one is calling for you.”
He flipped the sheets down just enough that she could see his face. “Then you won’t mind screening my non-existent calls.”