Pretend You're Mine: A Small Town Love Story

by Score, Lucy

  The stairs opened up into a wide hallway of sorts with a window seat built over short bookcases. “What a great way to use this space!” Harper leaned down to get a closer look. The shelves were stuffed with paperbacks and photo albums, each neatly labeled with a year range or name.

  Luke stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Dad and I built this years ago after Mom ran out of room in the den.”

  “Can I look at Luke One?” Harper fingered the spine of a navy blue linen album.

  “Uh. Sure,” he said unenthusiastically.

  Harper didn’t wait for him to change his mind. She plopped down on the thick cushion of the window seat and began to page through. “You were pretty adorable as a toddler.” She peered at a picture of three-year-old Luke trying to put on his father’s tool belt, grinning with pride.

  He sat down next to her and grimaced. “Why don’t we look at Soph’s album —”

  “Don’t even think about it, Handysome.”

  “Repeat that name again and I’m going to have to murder you.”

  “Roger that, Lukey Bear,” she said, unphased by the threat. “Oh, look at your first day of kindergarten! That backpack is bigger than you are.”

  Luke sighed heavily and wiped his hands down his face.

  Harper paged through Luke’s childhood, pausing to admire his woodworking skills on a birdhouse in Boy Scouts. On the pages of the album he transformed from a gawky pre-teen to a hunky teenager. He was captured triumphantly crossing the finish line at a track meet and grinning as he led his football team off the field.

  “Wow. You must have broken a lot of teenage girl hearts.”

  “I’m sure you did your fair share of impressing the boys.”

  “I was flat-chested and gangly until I was seventeen. It wasn’t impressing, it was depressing.”

  “I’d like to see photographic evidence of that,” he teased.

  “Thankfully, there is no photographic evidence of my awkward teen years.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  His grin faded when she turned the page.

  “Look at you at Homecoming!” Harper pulled the album closer and studied Luke in a suit, stoically staring at the camera on a gray speckled backdrop. A gaudy crown perched on his head. He had his arm around a willowy brunette in a sparkling silver gown that perfectly matched the tiara. “Homecoming king and queen? You really had a fairy tale life, didn’t you?”

  Luke pulled the album out of her hands and slammed it shut. “We’re falling behind on the tour. Let me show you the upstairs, and then I’ll introduce you to Mom’s chickens.”

  “Um, okay.” Harper was confused by the sudden change in him. He half dragged her away from the window seat and towards the first door.

  The quick tour of the upstairs bedrooms revealed spacious rooms with very little clutter. The master was a sunny space with a claw-foot tub in the bathroom. Luke’s bedroom had been converted into a sewing room for his mother and the other two rooms were outfitted as guest bedrooms. It was a tidy home designed around a bustling family life.

  The free-range chickens in the back yard were Claire’s current pride and joy. The chicken coop that Charlie built was nicer than most of Harper’s apartments.

  Everything seemed like a fairy tale to Harper and left her wondering what had made Luke distance himself from it all.

  ***

  Luke accepted the basket of rolls from Harper and passed it on to James, at his right. He usually didn’t mind his family’s monthly Sunday meals — too much — but having Harper with him added another dimension.

  He watched as she chatted with his father about gardening while making faces at his nephew, who was refusing to eat his turnips. She seemed relaxed, but he knew she couldn’t help but notice the long looks from his relatives.

  Under the microscope.

  He was used to the intense study, having been under it himself for quite some time. But he imagined it was more awkward for someone unaccustomed to it.

  Soph winked at him from across the table and nodded subtly towards Harper. Luke got the message loud and clear. It was the first family meal in a long time that he hadn’t had to suffer through poorly disguised fix-ups and casual attempts to discern his mental state.

  He just might be getting as much out of this deal as Harper was, or at least more than he bargained for.

  ***

  The family adjourned to the deck for slices of the peach pie Harper brought from the grocery store and homemade vanilla ice cream.

  “Go easy on that pie, bro,” James teased Luke. “I want you to put up some kind of fight in football before I destroy you.”

  “Ooooooh,” Sophie and Ty cooed tauntingly.

  Harper snickered.

  “Don’t you start, Harper. You’re the ref,” Luke warned, taking a sip of his beer.

  “I want to play!”

  “No.” His tone left to room for argument. “Not in the shape you’re in.”

  Harper sulked and took another bite of pie.

  They picked teams, with Sophie and James pitted against Ty and Luke. The game’s action quickly escalated from casual fun to all-out war. Competition definitely ran in the Garrison blood, Harper noted, as Luke tripped James after his brother “accidentally” kicked him in the shin.

  She stayed on the sidelines and enjoyed the chaos. The players tiptoed around Josh when the toddler chased a chicken across the field of play and no one batted an eye when Sophie put Ty in a headlock so James could run down field.

  Distracted by Claire asking her if she’d like some coffee, Harper didn’t see the freight train of Luke and James hurtling towards her after a long bomb thrown by Ty until it was too late.

  Luke caught the ball out of mid-air and she saw the exact second that it registered that he was about to crush her.

  He twisted open in the air and wrapped one arm around her while cushioning their fall with the other. They landed halfway in one of Claire’s flowerbeds. Surrounded by azaleas, Harper stopped moving under Luke’s weight.

  His hips pressed into hers and she forgot all about bruises and the ground beneath her.

  “I keep finding you like this,” he teased, his breath warm on her face.

  “It’s nice to not be unconscious this time.”

  She saw the subtle change in his eyes and held her breath as he lowered his mouth closer to hers. Harper parted her lips.

  “Touchdown, Uncca Luke!” Josh threw himself on Luke’s back.

  ***

  That night, Harper stared into the mirror’s reflection as she brushed her teeth. She had wondered if Luke would acknowledge their “moment,” but he had simply pulled her to her feet and gone back to the game until it was called on account of darkness and they said their good-byes.

  Claire had wrapped Harper in a gentle hug and told her she was welcome any time. It had been a great day with his family.

  Luke rapped on the door. “You decent?”

  Harper spit and rinsed. “Yep.” She reached for her hairbrush while Luke joined her at the sink.

  “I really like your family,” she said, tugging the elastic band out of her hair.

  Luke shrugged, loading up toothpaste on his brush. “Yeah, they’re not bad in small doses.”

  “Not bad?” She ran the brush through her hair. “Everyone gets along. Your mom’s an awesome cook. There was no bloodshed at the table. I’m starting to think you conned me into this charade with a phony story about how crazy they are.”

  “There’s nothing fake about their crazy. They just haven’t shown it to you yet,” he said, starting to brush.

  “Maybe you’re just overly sensitive and can’t tell normal from crazy anymore,” Harper offered.

  Luke glared at her in the mirror and she laughed.

  “Anyway, I had a really nice time. It was fun hanging out with everyone talking and eating and picking on each other. I like them a lot.”

  Luke rinsed and put his toothbrush back in the holder. “They like you.” He w
as quiet for a moment, watching her brush her long hair in the mirror before skirting around her to the doorway. He paused. “Thanks for doing this.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I might be a disaster at the office tomorrow.” She winked, and he turned on a sigh and left the bathroom.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Luke sipped the coffee Harper had brewed while he was out for his run and looked out the back window. He woke up feeling unsettled. He blamed it on the fact that it was the first time he had taken a girl home to meet his parents since … Since.

  It was just a month, he reminded himself. Then everything would go back to normal. If another deployment counted as normal.

  After that moment with Harper under him in the flowers, it had been a sleepless night. Looking down at her, seeing the surprise, the wonder in her eyes, it felt like a vision of things to come. Things that couldn’t be.

  He thought about buying a blow-up mattress and sleeping in one of the spare rooms upstairs. But he liked waking up to Harper plastered against him. He liked knowing she was safe. And feeling those soft curves against him was bringing back to life feelings he thought were long dead. He was playing with fire, but somewhere inside, he didn’t care.

  He heard the creak of the back porch swing and spotted her, shoulders hunched, swinging in the silence of early dawn.

  Luke let himself out onto the back porch. Harper heard his approach and straightened up, swiping a hand over her face.

  “Morning,” he said, testing the waters.

  “Morning.” She said it brightly, but she wouldn’t look at him. “Just getting an early start for my first day on the job.”

  He didn’t say anything. He knew a crying woman when he saw one, which, growing up with Sophie, had been often.

  She jumped up from the swing and tried to step around him. He blocked her and set his coffee down on the railing.

  Harper stepped to the other side and he easily met her. “Harper.” He put his hands on her shoulders, and when she still refused to look up, he nudged her chin with his fingers.

  The tears in her gray eyes overflowed, coursing down her cheeks as soon as she met his gaze.

  “Shit.” He pulled her in and rested his chin on her head.

  “I’m fine,” she mumbled against his bare chest.

  “Uh-huh.” He held her a little tighter.

  “It’s nothing.”

  At least that’s what he thought she said. Her voice was muffled. But she wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Okay.”

  He held her that way, rubbing gentle circles on her back until he felt her breath get deeper.

  “You know, Harper, if you really don’t want to work for me, you don’t have to.”

  The teasing helped. She leaned back looking up at him with a watery smile.

  “It’s not the job. At least not yet. Who knows what kind of work environment you’ll provide? I was just having a moment, and now it’s over.”

  “A moment?”

  She nodded.

  “And now it’s over? Just like that?”

  Harper nodded again.

  “Don’t you need to talk about something … or something?”

  “Nope.” She gave him a watery smile.

  “As your fake boyfriend, I should probably know what you’re upset about.”

  Harper laughed. “You’re very sweet and I’m fine. How about some breakfast?” She made a move to step past him, but he stopped her and grasped her wrists. She was clutching a picture in her hand.

  “What’s this?” He took the picture from her and studied it.

  “My parents and me.”

  A miniature cherub, she was wearing a flowered dress perched on a bench between a lean man, whose smile was almost hidden behind his mustache, and a stunning blonde in a blue dress. They were all laughing.

  “You were a pretty cute kid. Where are they now?”

  “They died a long time ago.” Harper took the photo from him.

  “I’m sorry. How long ago?”

  “Nineteen years.”

  “Jesus, Harper. I’m sorry. What happened?”

  “Car accident. Sometimes, I still miss them a lot. Especially after spending time with other people’s families.”

  “I’ve had lots of people cry after spending time with my family.”

  She poked him. “Funny.”

  “So who raised you?”

  “A lot of different people. I was in foster care until I aged out.”

  “Aged out?”

  “Once you hit eighteen, if you haven’t been adopted, you’re officially on your own.”

  “You don’t have any family?”

  “I make my own family.” Harper said it brightly and meant it. “Now, how about I make breakfast? It’s a big day today.”

  She laid a hand on his chest. “Thanks for being nice to me, Luke.” Harper went up on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek and headed into the kitchen.

  ***

  Luke slapped the cover of his tablet shut and tossed it on the seat next to him. He should be focusing on the task at hand. But instead of reviewing the timeline for the Riggs’ addition, he couldn’t stop thinking about Harper.

  He had given her a cursory tour of the office and left her to set up a workspace. He had a list of office tasks he planned to give her the next day, once she’d settled in. After their talk that morning, he wanted to ease her into the job, didn’t want to overwhelm her.

  Harper had bounced back, chattering cheerfully about her plans for a quick lunch at Common Grounds while she whipped up omelets and toast. He had let her talk, interjecting appropriate responses, but his mind raced.

  She had no one. Hadn’t had anyone since she was six years old, which explained a lot. No wonder she was a walking disaster. She never had a family to keep her out of trouble.

  She must have been in the car with her parents. That had to have been when the broken arm and ribs happened. Did she remember it?

  How many foster homes had she been through? Who did she spend Christmas with?

  Luke dropped his head against the headrest. His own family could drive him crazy, but there wasn’t a day that went by that he wasn’t grateful for them.

  Maybe it was time he started acting like it again. He glanced at his watch. He had enough time before his afternoon meeting to make a few unscheduled stops.

  ***

  Luke pushed open the screen door of his parents’ home. “Ma?”

  “Back in the kitchen.” Her voice floated to him with the scent of fresh baked chocolate.

  “I wasn’t sure if you worked today,” he called, following his nose down the hallway. Claire worked part-time for the florist in town and often got called in for extra shifts.

  His mother turned from the oven, clutching a glass dish. “That damn Pinterest. I saw a recipe for mudslide brownies and couldn’t help myself. Oh!” She looked at the flowers he was holding. “What are those?”

  He held out the lilies to her. “Trade?”

  “You brought me flowers?” She put the brownies on the counter and grabbed the bouquet. “What’s the occasion?”

  His mother’s shock and joy was enough to make him feel a little guilty for not thinking to do this sooner.

  “No occasion. Just saw them and thought of you.”

  Claire buried her face in them. “They’re beautiful, Luke!”

  He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

  “Do you want to stay for lunch?” Claire offered.

  “Can’t.” Luke checked his watch. “I’m picking Dad up in 15 for lunch, but I’ll take two brownies.”

  “As long as one of them is for Harper.”

  Luke smiled. “We’ll see if she hasn’t run screaming for the hills yet after getting a look at the last six months of unfiled paperwork.”

  “In that case, I’m packing four brownies and Harper gets to decide if you get any. She’s a lovely girl, Luke. I really like her.”

  “I do, too.”


  And he meant it.

  ***

  Charlie Garrison was a broad-shouldered man who had worn his silver hair in the same style since the ’60s. In homage to the brisk spring temperatures, he had traded his heavy Carhartt for a lighter flannel jacket. He slid into the booth across from Luke and pushed the menu to the edge of the table. He always ordered the same thing. They both did.

  Luke accepted the unordered cup of coffee from the waitress and smiled as she slid a Coke into his dad’s hands. Claire had for her pre-diabetic husband a strict no-soda rule that was only broken at the diner.

  “The usual, boys?” Sandra asked, not bothering to pull out her notepad.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Charlie handed her the menus and she winked as she walked away. A retired elementary school music teacher, Sandra owned the diner and worked the lunch shift four days a week.

  Luke leaned back, resting his arm on the back of the booth. “I wonder what she’d do if we ever ordered something different.”

  “Probably bring us the usual anyway.” He plucked the straw out of the glass and put it on the table before taking a deep drink. “So what’s the occasion?”

  “For lunch?”

  “It’s been awhile.”

  Luke nodded, toying with his mug. “Yeah.” It had been. What years ago had been a standing weekly tradition had slowly morphed into a sporadic occasion.

  Sandra mercifully arrived with their food. A tuna melt and fries for Charlie and a bacon cheeseburger for Luke.

  “Can I get you boys anything else?”

  Charlie shook his head and reached for the ketchup. “No, ma’am.”

  “Thanks, Sandra,” Luke said, hefting the burger.

  “All right, try not to cause too much trouble,” she said before bustling off to the next booth.

  Luke took a big bite of burger and watched his father dig in to his sandwich. “How’s the basement reno coming?” While technically retired, his father still liked to oversee a handful of projects every year. His neighbors, the Nicklebees, had hired them to finish their walkout basement.

  Charlie took a swig of Coke and reached for a fry. “It’s coming along. The wiring’s finished and the plumbing’s almost done.”

  “I saw your note about them adding a wet bar,” Luke said between bites.