by MJ Summers
“Now, you’re going to want to put some bone meal in the holes before you add the plants, a little extra for that spindly one. Makes a huge difference in how quickly they’ll take root. I’ll send Neil over with a bag.”
“I have some already,” Harper answered, neglecting to mention that it was only because the man at the nursery had thrown it in for free.
“Good. A handful in each hole. And plenty of water for the rest of the season so they’ll—”
“Delores?” her husband’s voice called. “Should I start browning this hamburger meat? Are we having spaghetti?”
“Don’t touch it!” she yelled back, rushing across the street. “You come by for coffee, Harper!” She waved over her shoulder as she scuttled home to prevent the impending culinary crisis.
Harper swore under her breath as she got back to work, digging holes and planting the smaller perennials. Their conversation swirled around in her brain, creating a ball of righteous indignation in her chest. Mrs. Morley and others like her, who felt it necessary to assert themselves in matters that were none of their business and who judged her motherless family, were near the top of her list of good reasons she had left Boulder. In New York, no one knew that her mother had had an affair and abandoned them, and if they did find out, they wouldn’t bat an eyelash.
How could a woman—in a lavender track suit of all things—make her feel less than? It was ridiculous. Harper thought of Mrs. Morley’s not-so-subtle way of telling her she was all wrong for Evan. “Screw her.”
Eight
The heat of the day clung to the air as the sun began to disappear behind the mountains in the distance. The sound of Evan’s truck prompted Harper to quickly dab at the sweat on her face with the edge of her T-shirt. Of course. I don’t see him for days and then he appears when I’m a sweaty mess again.
“Evening,” he called, strolling over to her with Boots bounding ahead of him. As she took in Evan’s appearance, she realized she needn’t have worried about being sweaty or covered in dirt. He looked very much the same, although she was sure it suited him more than it did her. His dusty old jeans and work boots, along with two-day-old stubble, just added to his rugged sexiness.
Harper looked up at Evan from her position on her knees, arching her back to relieve some of her sore muscles. Suddenly realizing how that must have looked, she straightened up. “Hi,” she replied, hoping he couldn’t hear her heart as it pounded in her chest. She reached out and gave Boots a vigorous rub behind his ears to stop him from licking her face. In response, the dog flopped down to the grass and rolled over onto his back, clearly hoping for a belly rub. Harper gave in. “You know how to wrap us humans around your paw, don’t you, Boots?”
“He certainly does. I never wanted a dog and yet, here he is.” Evan dropped down beside her on the lawn, stretching out his long legs and leaning back on his elbows as he admired her handiwork.
“How come you never wanted a dog?”
“Too much commitment. I realized a while ago that the simpler I keep things, the happier I am. He’s working out okay, though.” Evan nodded toward the nearly completed flower bed. “Did you do all that today?”
Her mouth curved up slightly as she looked over her latest artistic endeavour. “I did indeed.” She tried to renew her enthusiasm for her accomplishment but it had faded with the heat and her irritation.
“Good for you. It’s hard to believe it’s the same yard that was here this morning. Seriously impressive,” he replied, taking his eyes off the plants to stare at her. He cocked his head to the side, frowning a little. “You okay? You don’t seem like your normal, bubbly self.”
“It’s nothing worth talking about.”
“If it’s bugging you, it’s worth talking about.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Morley came by to remind me of her opinion of my family, including my horrible mother, in case I had forgotten.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Why the hell can’t people mind their own business?”
“Gossip is like a pastime around here. And my mother gave them the story of the century.” Harper plucked a blade of grass and tied it in a tiny knot.
Evan watched her fingers for a moment before answering. “Anyone who’d bring that up has got to be a pretty small person to begin with. Still hurts, though, doesn’t it?”
“No, it’s just irritating,” Harper answered. “Actually, I’m more annoyed with myself for letting her bother me.”
“Well, it’s hard not to. She’s got an ill-informed and unwanted opinion on everything. And unfortunately, she loves sharing those opinions,” Evan commiserated. “She’s always trying to set me up with her niece.” He shuddered, pretending to be disgusted.
Harper laughed. “Oh, I know. She practically claimed you as family territory already. I think she’s worried I’m going to move in on you now that I’m home for a while. She made sure to tell me how wrong I’d be for you.” The words were out of her mouth before her common sense could tell her to swallow them. Shit, that could make things a little awkward. But it didn’t.
“Like I said—ill-informed,” he replied in a low tone, his eyes locked on hers.
Swallowing hard, Harper stood and grabbed the shovel before she acted on her impulse to straddle his lap right there on the lawn and have her way with him. She stepped back into the flower bed, then gave the earth under her a stab with the shovel. She had left the two largest shrubs for last, a mistake now that her muscles were all begging her to stop.
She struggled to force the blade into the hard ground, finally resorting to standing on it with both feet. But the shovel wouldn’t move more than a few inches into the surface, even when Harper held the handle and hopped up and down on the shoulder of the blade.
“I’m torn. I know I should dig that hole for you but it’s just so fun watching you jump up and down on that shovel in those little shorts of yours,” he said, finally getting up.
Harper could feel her face heating up and she tried to calm herself before she turned to him from her perch. “And they say chivalry is dead,” she remarked.
“In that case, I better help. Hand it over, lightweight,” he ordered, standing and taking the tool from her. His fingers brushed against hers as he did, causing a surge of sexual tension. He took a step forward, closing the space between them. “But I need a favour from you in return. I need some help getting Mrs. Morley off my back about her niece.”
Harper glanced at their neighbour’s house and saw her through the front room window, misting a large fern. “That plant must be soaked by now. What’s the favour?”
“Make this look good,” he murmured as he leaned down, letting his lips hover over hers. He reached one hand up to her cheek, tilting her head back just enough.
Without a moment’s hesitation, his lips were on hers. Harper’s eyelids lowered as she felt herself disappearing into an entirely new world. His kiss was so much more than she had dreamed it would be. It started out gentle, careful even, with an undercurrent of passion that soon overtook them both. Her response was full of yearning, decades of pent-up desire and curiosity. She reached out and balled up the bottom of his T-shirt in her fist, pulling him closer. Wrapping his arm behind her, he dipped her back, his tongue finding its way between her lips, searching her mouth for more. She felt her body awaken as the most delicious aching pulsed through her. And then as suddenly as he had begun, he lifted her back upright and stopped.
Harper’s eyes opened slowly when she realized he wasn’t coming back for more.
“There. That ought to do it,” he said, glancing across the street. “I just saw her close the curtains.”
“Oh, great,” was all Harper could think to say. Her mind was completely scrambled, her body quaking with an urgent lust.
“Thanks for helping me with that. Now, your turn.”
Harper watched as he easily cut through the ground with the shovel, his powerful body making short work of what would have been a monumental task for her. Surely he mus
t be tired and sore from such a long day on the construction site. But he moved with ease. And there she stood, weak in the knees from one kiss. She had to quell an overwhelming desire to step up behind him and wrap her arms around him and under his shirt. Dear Lord, what would he look like without that annoying piece of fabric covering his body?
She had a very good idea that he would look amazing. And feel amazing. If his body moved anything like his lips and tongue, she would be putty in his hands.
* * *
Evan stood under the spray of the hot water, unable to get his mind off Harper. How her bottom curved perfectly in those shorts she was wearing and how her legs seemed to go on for miles, her beautiful reddish-brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, those incredible blue eyes, that ivory skin that was flawless in spite of the smudges of dirt.
It wasn’t just her body, though. It was the way she spoke, her strength, her determination. When he really thought about it, he realized she’d always been like that, but now she had the confidence of a woman who’d accomplished a lot in life. And success suited Harper.
He thought of how Mrs. Morley had managed to hurt her, slinging her poison-tipped arrows, managing to pierce old wounds that would never fully heal. There was a trace of vulnerability residing in Harper and he was surprised by how fiercely it made him want to protect her. In that moment, he would have done just about anything to make her feel better. So he made an excuse to kiss her. But it wasn’t solely for her sake—it was also because he needed to. Even though it was against his better judgment, he just couldn’t help himself.
He wanted her to know he saw her for who she was, not for what her mother had done. He wanted her to know that, for the first time, he was really seeing her. But now that he really saw her and had really kissed her, his eyes couldn’t unsee her and his tongue couldn’t forget the taste of her.
He knew that she was probably in the shower just then too, and found himself wishing he had seen her let her hair down and rub soap all over that gorgeous body of hers, instead of just imagining it. His hands wanted to feel her soft skin against them, his body wanted to feel her curves against him, his cock wanted to bury itself inside her in the worst way. He hadn’t wanted a woman in this way for a long time, not since Avery. He had slept with a few women in the two years since their divorce, and had gotten a lot of offers, but he hadn’t needed them like he needed Harper. This was a completely new type of desire. It was the type that could cause a man a lot of trouble. It could ruin lifelong friendships. It could make hamburger out of his heart. His brain was telling him to leave her alone, but the rest of his body was telling his brain to shut the hell up.
* * *
Harper tossed and turned half the night, overtaken by a wild restlessness as her brain tortured her with Evan’s kiss. The scene played on a loop, arousing every part of her until she ached for him. There was only one thing that would satisfy this insatiable craving and he was next door, probably sleeping like a log. She could imagine him there, under the covers. Did he sleep in the nude? That would be quite the sight—his hard body all tangled up in his sheets. Thoughts of sliding into bed with him and running her hands everywhere came into her mind. Letting out a loud groan, she threw the sheets off and stalked down the hall to get a glass of water from the kitchen.
Frustration wasn’t a big enough word for what she was feeling. This was pure agony. His smile, his concern for her feelings, his kiss. Dear God, that kiss. It was so much more than she had imagined it would be. And his reason for kissing her so much more than simply wanting to. He had pretended it was for his own sake, but he’d also managed to show their nasty neighbour that he thought Harper was every bit good enough for him. And that alone filled her with a need that wasn’t going to quietly slink away.
Nine
“Hey, my friend, you all ready for tonight?” Harper had her phone on hands-free while she brushed bright pink polish onto her toenails.
“There’s been a shitty change of plans,” Megan answered, her voice weak.
“What’s wrong, Megs? You sound awful!”
“I am. Elliott brought home a horrible flu bug and now I have it. I was up all night either puking or looking after a puking child. Luc’s not home from Paris until late this afternoon, so it’s been really friggin’ awful.”
“Oh God, that sounds like an absolute nightmare. Can I come by and help?” Harper’s voice was full of concern.
“My mom just got here. She’s going to watch the kids so I can sleep for a while. But I do need to ask you something. You know how I was going to be taking pictures while you got drunk at the Band on the Bricks event tonight?”
“Mmhmm. You’re going to need to find someone to cover for you for . . .” Harper stopped mid-sentence. She suddenly had an idea of where this was going, and the thought had butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
“Yeah. I definitely have to have pictures of tonight’s show for the contract. No way I can miss Hazel Brown. Which brings me to the part where I beg my very best friend in the whole world to go for me.”
“Oh, Meg, I don’t know. What if I totally fuck it up? Why don’t I call around and find a professional to take them for you? I don’t even mind paying for it.”
“Honestly, I don’t want to ask anyone else. Some of the photographers in town are like vultures. If I give them the chance, they’ll be snacking on my corpse before sundown. That city gig is sweet—I get to attend everything for free and I’ve made some really great connections. Besides, you’ll do a terrific job. You know how to work a camera, for God’s sake.” Megan paused for a moment.
“I do, but what if I screw it up?”
“Not a chance. Seriously, I wouldn’t ask if I thought you couldn’t handle it and if I wasn’t dying.”
“Okay, since you’re on your deathbed. I’ll swing by in a bit to get your equipment so I can practise for a while first. I’ll call and you just put it out front and shut the door. I don’t want to catch what you’ve got there.”
Megan let out a sigh, sounding relieved. “Thank you, Harper. Best. Friend. Ever.”
“What time should I be at the show?”
“I’m supposed to be there for five o’clock, in time for the beer garden. Head to Pearl Street, the thirteen hundred block. You’ll see the stage; go there and ask for a guy named Guy. He’ll give you all the instructions, the volunteer pass and drink vouchers.”
“A guy named Guy?”
“I know. I’d like to think I would have some witty comment about that, but right now I’ve got nothing.”
“It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t have to entertain me when you’re sick. See you in a couple of hours.”
* * *
When she pulled up to the house, Harper saw Megan standing in the living room window in her bathrobe. She got out of the car, carrying a grocery bag. Megan opened the door and put the camera bags on the front step before walking back inside, leaving the door open so they could speak from a distance.
“Thanks, Harper. I owe you one. I’ll add it to the list.”
“No problem, my friend.” Harper held up the bag. “Chicken noodle soup, saltines, ginger ale, Dramamine, and Freezies. The barfer’s buffet.”
Megan managed a weak grin, which only made her slightly green face appear even more sickly. “You’re the best. I’m so glad you’re living here now.”
“I’m glad I can be here to help. I just hope I don’t mess up your contract.”
“You won’t. Say hi to Hazel for me.”
“Sure thing.” Harper gave her friend a sympathetic smile. “Feel better, you.”
* * *
As Harper parked near Pearl Street, she reflected on how nice it was to live close enough to help Megan out. She had been so far away for so many years that she had completely missed out on the opportunity to really be there for her best friend, her brothers and her dad, for that matter. She had offered support over the phone but it wasn’t at all the same as being with them through life’s ups and downs. It felt g
ood to be needed and to be able to take care of those she loved the most, even if it was just for a little while.
Getting out of the car, she heaved the camera bag over her shoulder and inhaled the clear summer air. A midday downpour had swept through town, leaving behind a sweet smell and darkened pavement. The whole world felt fresh to Harper as she crossed the street to the municipal building. She had knots in her stomach about doing this work for Megan, but deep down she knew she could do a good job. A great job, if she could just relax a little and try to enjoy the moment. The best photo shoots she had worked on all had the same elements of joy and confidence that fed into any artistic endeavour. She could get some great pictures—it would be a matter of quantity tonight. The more shots she took, the better the chance she would get the ones Megan needed.
Half an hour later as the beer garden opened, Harper was ready. She felt somehow important with the camera in her hands and the press pass around her neck. There was already a good-sized crowd out for the event; some were dressed casually and some appeared to have come straight from work, still in their suits but with ties off and collars loosened. The atmosphere was one of anticipation, hundreds of people determined not to miss this moment. As the sun lowered, Harper made several adjustments to the camera’s settings and continued shooting candids of the crowd and volunteers. Just after 7 p.m., the band took to the stage, welcomed by thunderous applause for the legendary Ms. Brown. Lifting the camera, Harper zoomed in on Hazel’s face in time to catch a joyful expression as she laughed and got the audience to its feet. Harper tapped her foot to the beat as she worked.
“Harper?” A male voice sounded from behind her.
Turning, Harper broke into a smile as she saw Brent Yearwood standing there, red Solo cup in hand. Brent had been a friend of Harper’s throughout high school. He moved in for a hug. What he lacked in height, he more than made up for in muscle. He resembled a bouncer, complete with the shaved head and crooked nose. “Damn, you’re looking good these days. It took me a minute to recognize you.” His words brought a strong waft of beer with them.