“Do you need help down?” He calls and I laugh, skipping down the stone steps that lead to the sand.
“No, I think I can manage.”
He blushes but I take his hand, letting him know that I appreciate his concern. He’s always like that with me and though I know not all women would truly understand why he’s so overprotective, I do. I understand everything about him.
“What are we eating?” I ask as we move closer to where the table is set up. On top of a white tablecloth are several covered trays. They’re all different shapes and sizes and my curiosity is immediately piqued.
“You’ll have to wait and see. I wanted to make sure you had everything you could possibly want.”
Once we’re seated, Harper starts pulling the tops away from the trays. I gasp, delighted by what I see. Not only is there every kind of fruit I can think of—there are some that I can’t name. The entire table is set up as a feast, I count how many different kinds of breads and jams there are.
“Wow, Harp. Did you leave any for the rest of the guests?”
He pretends to look offended. “Of course I didn’t. If they get hungry they can eat what you don’t want.”
I laugh again. “So, they get my leftovers?”
Harper nods, a look of mock seriousness on his face. “They should be so lucky.”
I reach for a fluffy piece of bread with poppy seeds in it. “You’re so bad, spoiling me this way.”
“You deserve nothing but the best, my opal.”
The endearment makes me blush again and we eat while looking out across the ocean. Harper hums softly while the waves crash against the sand and I close my eyes, pushing a piece of juicy red fruit past my lips. I chew slowly, lost in the sensation of sweetness as it runs down my throat and wishing that Harper could taste it from my tongue.
When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me the way a man stares at a woman. He looks like he wants to take all of these trays and shove them on the ground, food be damned. His dark gaze flashes toward the trunk of the tree we’re sitting under and I wonder if he wants to take me against that tree. If he wants to impale me on his cock, while the hard wood scratches and bruises my back.
I blush a little harder and run my tongue over my bottom lip. His eyes track the movement and I stand abruptly, unable to take the temptation that he’s presenting. “Why don’t we put these lids back on and take a little walk? I think feeling the water on my feet would help me…cool off.”
Harper grins at me and some of the tension of the moment is dispelled. We both know what the other was thinking but we’re not willing to put strain on the relationship. This vacation is about relaxation, not thinking about the things we can’t do.
Instead, I want to do silly things with him. I want to go to the beach and build sandcastles with him. I want to play tag and draw pictures in the sand. I want to see who can hold their breath longer. I want to laugh and play with him in ways that I’ve never done with a man before.
As if he read my mind, Harper clears his throat. “This may sound a little foolish…but have you ever been hunting for seashells?”
I know that my demeanor immediately lights up. “No but I would love to. I once saw this thing on Pinterest where a woman made a necklace out of them. It looks just as nice as those expensive ones you see in fashion shows and I wondered if she did anything special to make them shine.”
Harper grins at me again and I almost get dizzy because it’s such a lovely expression. “Well, I think we can definitely find a bunch here. Do you want to try and see what we come up with?”
“I would absolutely love to.”
Harper tilts his head to the side as if considering something major. “How about we make it a competition?”
“What kind of competition?” I ask, immediately intrigued.
“Well, I know that you want me to sleep in the same bed as you tonight. I made sure when I booked the room that there were two separate sleeping quarters.”
I nod, glad that he has brought that up. I understand that he doesn’t want us to sleep together in the biblical sense but I don’t understand why we can’t spend the night wrapped around one another. It is something that I long for—perhaps even more than I want us to have sex.
“So, if you win, I will attempt to sleep in the same bed with you. Over the covers.”
The addition he makes has me laughing so hard, tears form in my eyes. I wonder how many other women would be so patient with his stipulations and reluctances. I imagine that it’s not many but I am more than willing to do whatever is needed to make him comfortable. “And if you win?”
He pretends to think about it. “There is a class that I want to go to on the island tonight.”
“What class?” This is the first time I’ve heard of it and I’m not sure why he wouldn’t just fit it into the plans. We have both talked about what we wanted to do but he hasn’t said anything about a class.
“That’s a surprise. That’s what I want if I win, though. I want you to come with me, no questions asked.”
Trust. There it is again, staring me right in the face. He is asking me to trust him in a way I won’t trust anyone else. The thought makes me nervous but at the same time, I feel completely comfortable. Harper would never do anything to hurt me, nor would he let anyone else cause me harm. I nod. “Okay. No questions asked. If you win. Don’t be so confident, I’m a pretty competitive person, you know.”
“Oh, I know. It’s part of your Type-A personality.”
I give a single-shouldered shrug before I take off. He lets out a bark of surprised, followed by a hollered, “Cheater!”
I call, “All’s fair in love and war!” back over my shoulder as I race toward the beach, leaving him to cover the half-eaten food. Before he’s even left the table, I’m on my knees in the sand, my heart pounding, a huge grin on my face. I’m totally going to win this bet.
One hour full of laughter and playful taunting later and I collapse backward, admitting defeat. Harper stands a few feet in front of me, staring down at the pile of shells he’s come up with. I’m panting on my back, not caring that there’s sand in my hair. “You totally cheated.”
Harper’s big, booming laughter fills the space between us. “Look who’s talking! You ran off before I was even ready.”
I give a very unladylike snort and admit to nothing. That was so long ago, who even knows if that’s what really happened? I laugh at my silly thought. “Well, it’s not like it mattered much! You’ve done this before.”
Harper waves a hand in the air, dismissing my statement. “You knew that when you started the competition.”
I let out a mock gasp of outrage, even though it comes out as more of an out-of-breath huff. “But if I had known you were the all-time seashell-hunting champion, I might have tripped you or something.”
He tsks. “More cheating, my opal? What will I ever do with you?”
“I guess you’ll just have to love me forever.” The words leave my mouth before I realize it, but by the time I do it’s too late to take them back. I pause, completely shocked that I would say something so bold. “I-I—”
Before I can figure out a way to erase the impact of those words, he cuts me off. “But I already do. Don’t you know that?”
He sounds honestly confused and I lift my head to stare at him. He’s a hundred percent serious and all I can do is lie there with my mouth gaping. “…no. I didn’t know that.”
“Oh.” Harper flashes me that devastating grin again. “Well now you do. I love you so much it hurts, Fallon. I always have and I always will.”
He bends over, scooping up both our piles of shells. I stare at him stupidly, not knowing what to say but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. “Hurry up and catch your breath. I’m going to see about putting more of that fruit in my face, now that you’ve completely worn me out.”
He leaves my field of vision with a jaunty bob in his step and I still haven’t said anything in return. But Harper isn’t worried about that. Of
course he’s not. He never pushes me into anything and he didn’t seem upset by the fact that I didn’t say it back. I shift my gaze back up to the blue, blue sky and tears of gratitude fill my eyes. I don’t know what I did to deserve a man like this. One who accepts my flaws and never tries to make me give more than I’m able. I don’t know what I did to deserve him but I swear, I’m going to do all in my power to keep him happy.
“I love you too!” I scream it at the top of my lungs, not caring who hears me. Not caring that it opens me up in ways I’ve never been opened up. All I want is to let him know how much he means to me in that moment and the consequences be damned.
A soft silence comes from Harper for several minutes. I listen to the sound of the waves and the call of distant birds. Somewhere in the back of my head, I imagine that I should be embarrassed by the weight of the silence. But I just feel…comforted. There is no expectation in this lack of sound. No judgment. Just gentle acceptance for what I said and what it means.
“Hurry up and come eat before I steal all the strawberries.”
I burst upward with a laugh and turn my vision back to Harper. He’s standing in front of the table, his bright eyes shining with what I think are unshed tears. The look on his face only cements everything I’ve ever thought about him. This is a man who knows how deeply I feel. Who understands the breadth of my emotions and how much it has taken out of me to admit to what I feel for him.
He is deeply touched in the way he should be.
I run to him and fling my arms around his neck. He doesn’t even stumble, just catches me as I move, wrapping his arms around my back. “You are a treasure, my opal.” He whispers it against my head and I can feel the way he trembles as the words leave his mouth.
He means it.
As much as I mean that I love him. That I am willing to be open to him. That I am willing to give him power over me that no man has ever had before. This is something new. Something scary and powerful.
Us.
Harper and I.
Me and Harper.
I take in a deep breath, astonished that tears are leaking down my face. But this is different from any other time I’ve cried. These are tears of happiness. Of joy.
He brushes one tear away with a gentle knuckle and kisses my nose. “You win. I’ll sleep in the same bed with you tonight.”
I choke with surprised laughter when he adds his last sentence.
“Under the covers.”
My Harper.
Chapter Fifteen
I know I’m gawking. My jaw is slack, my eyes are wide, and I’m not even the smallest amount of embarrassed. For just a few moments, I decide to ignore my usual grace and simply bask in the amazing nature of what I’m seeing.
I don’t know what I expected when Harper made me promise to come out with him, but it wasn’t this. I’ve been to parties all around the world. I have seen things most people could never dream of.
But it’s nothing like this.
The museum is not the stuffy set of white rooms that I expected. Apparently, an art gallery is much more than that. It’s like a show. Plush, red carpet stretches out in front of me and impossibly high ceilings soar above my head. They’re decorated in such lavish colors that I hold my breath for a moment, reminded of a beautiful Roman church.
It should be out of place on the islands but instead, it seems luxurious and fresh. The rooms are spacious and display the art in tactful, sensual ways. There were paintings and sculptures—a newfound passion of mine, apparently—as well as living art acted out by beautiful, decorated young men and women.
The individuals enjoying the art are cut from the same cloth as me but from a different side of the coin. I’ve dabbled heavily in the real estate and commercial markets but these people are the upper echelons of money. The kind of money that can’t be earned but must be inherited.
Harper presses his hand to my lower back and gently moves me along from room to room. “You usually need a special invitation to visit this art library.”
His voice is low and it caresses my ears as we move past a glass case housing a set of jewels that make my heart race. The rich blue color of the stones sparkles in the low light and it’s all I can do to keep from bouncing as we walk. I hesitate, wanting to look for a little longer but something else immediately catches my eye and I move in the opposite direction.
It takes a moment before I can even register what Harper said. “How did we get in, then?”
“I think I would be the reason for that.” A young woman with dark hair and light brown eyes steps up behind me. She glances at Harper and it only lasts for a moment but the warning bells in my mind immediately go off.
I look closer and note that she would be passingly pretty if not for the cold gleam in her eye I had noticed. She’s taller than me by a few inches, fit, and soft in all of the right places. Before I can comment on the way she’s looking at my boyfriend, the woman turns and smiles at me.
Faker.
In my line of work, I have to be able to spot someone who is fake a mile away. It’s a lesson I’ve learned through trial and error and I am proud of my ability to do so with such ease now.
She holds her hand out to me and I take it without hesitation. Fakers pounce on any chink they think they see in your armor. The trick is to make sure you never show them any. “Well, I appreciate the invitation.”
Her hand feels clammy against mine but she shakes as if she doesn’t notice. “Any friend of Harper’s is a friend of mine.”
Harper makes a disapproving noise. “You know Fallon is more than a friend, Angelica. Don’t be rude.”
The woman looks as if he slapped her and I’m secretly glad that Harper hasn’t bought into her fake charm. I want to hug him but I keep myself still and classy.
A delicate pout paints her face. “I’m sorry, Harp. You know I would never be rude on purpose. It simply slipped my mind.”
He cuts into her with another look and I shiver with the force of his displeasure. Harper is always so sweet and thoughtful with me, I forget that he is a powerful person in his own right.
She seems to get that she has royally screwed up and inclines her head politely to me. “I’m sorry, Fallon. I meant no disrespect. I’ve known Harper for a long time and I suppose I’m a bit overprotective of him. He’s like a big brother to me.”
I’m not buying that for a second. I know lust when I see it and she is stamped with a dangerous longing for my man. Still, I keep my face purposefully blank, not wanting her to catch on that I know about her schemes. “Don’t worry about it.”
She nods and turns back to Harper, who looks blessedly wary. “I actually needed to borrow you for a few minutes. Father wants to go over a few numbers with you and I told him I’d bring you along.”
Harper starts to shake his head but I touch his shoulder lightly. “Angelica, was it? May we have a few moments? Harper will be along shortly.”
I’m proud of the even tone in my voice and so is Harper, if the look on his face is any indication. Angelica excuses herself and I turn back to my boyfriend.
He drops his voice. “What was that about?”
“I could ask you the same thing. She’s looking at you like you’re about to be lunch.”
He blows out an aggravated breath. “She does that. It’s nothing to be concerned with it, she never means it.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
Harper raises an eyebrow but he doesn’t question my observation. I know he trusts me and I trust him completely. That extends to moments like these. Even though he has convinced himself that Angelica is harmless, the moment I told him otherwise, his way of thinking shifted. He has faith in me.
“All right, so what do you want me to do? We can leave.”
I shake my head, loving the way my curls brush against my face. “No, that’s okay. Go ahead and go with her. This is work, right?”
Harper hesitates. “Yes, but…I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”
/>
This time I laugh. “She’s no threat to me.”
Harper laughs with me. “No, she’s not and she never will be.”
I pat him on the shoulder and shoo him in the direction that Angelica went. “Go on, I’ll wait for you here. I want to look around a little more.”
I turn away, not wanting him to see the look of yearning on my face as he walks away. I trust Harper, I do. I trust him more than I’ve ever trust another man maybe even another human being. But the look on Angelica’s face—the look of possession and lust—remind me too much of the way he looks at me.
Trying to clear my head and silence my warning bells, I turn my attention back to the works of art in front of me. A particularly colorful piece catches my attention and I smile. I recognize this work from the time I spent in art therapy.
“…and it’s the original,” A gruff voice says beside me.
I shift my focus and realize the man speaking isn’t actually talking to me. Before I can sigh with relief, the younger man he is talking to pipes up. “Are you sure? I can’t quite put my finger on it but something seems…off.”
Without thinking, I inject myself into the conversation. “Actually, you see this little rose right here? It should be blue. The name of the painting is frequently confused with its sister painting where the rose is red. However, because he is wearing this tiny little bell here? It means that the rose is meant to be blue.”
The men look at me with what may be confusion, but I don’t give them a chance to voice it. I flash my thousand-watt smile and continue moving through the various rooms.
After a few minutes, I find myself standing in front of a beautiful metal sculpture. The creation is all jagged lines and rough edges.
It’s raw…more unrestrained than anything I’ve seen in my own sculptures. For some reason I want to reach out and touch it, to stroke those unfinished edges as if I could absorb the creativity that I find there.
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