Discovering Harmony (Wishing Well, Texas #3)

by Melanie Shawn

  “Thanks, Hud,” she said simply, sincerity shining in her crystal green eyes. “I owe you.”

  With that exclamation she threw her arms around my neck and pure instinct took control over me yet again, my arms wrapped around her waist. In what now felt like déjà vu, her soft curves molded against me as if that’s what they were made to do. My fingers tightened and I heard her intake a small huff of breath before she released her hold and sped back across the bar to her two partners in crime.

  I sank back onto my heels and pivoted towards the heavy wood door. As I stepped into the crisp, Texas night air I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to erase the lasting effects of our close encounter like a mental Etch A Sketch, but it backfired in a big way. Instead of clearing my head, it only magnified my other senses. Like a phantom limb, I felt the sensation of Harmony in my arms, her body pressed against mine. I could still smell the flowery, fruity scent of her hair like my face was nuzzled in the crook of her slender neck. I could still hear the soft sounds of her heavy breath panting against my chest.

  My eyes flew open as a realization hit me like a Mack truck. In that moment I knew my sanity was the last thing I needed to worry about losing…my heart, on the other hand, was in serious danger.

  Chapter 5

  Harmony

  “It’s better to arrive late than to arrive ugly.”

  ~ Loretta Reed

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled as I pressed the brake pedal and lifted my sunglasses to the top of my head. I dipped my chin so I could see the entire property through my windshield, squinting, thanks to the bright morning sun.

  My eyes scanned the four numbers on the post in front of the driveway. Twelve-Six-Zero-Two Emerald Cove Way, I silently read the address for the third time.

  This could not be the place. Creepy didn’t even come close to describing what I was looking at. It had horror movie written all over it.

  If I believed in ghosts (which…I kind of did), I would be sure this was their headquarters. And I’m not talking about Casper and his friends. No, this would be the place for The Grudge, The Conjuring or The Ring kinda poltergeists.

  Three dilapidated buildings were scattered across what I figured, just from eyeballing it, had to be at least twenty acres of land. The first structure was the biggest in size, and it boasted a wraparound porch with a set of wooden steps leading up to it that I wouldn’t set a pinky toe on out of fear it would give way. Every window on the place was boarded up and there was either a layer of dust so thick that it had turned white or the entire thing was covered in spider webs. Either way, yuck.

  From my vantage point I wasn’t really able to make out any detail on the other two buildings as they were tucked away in the back of the property and surrounded by dense trees and overgrown grass and weeds. I seriously doubted that they would be in any better shape. If I had to guess, I would say that one was a barn and the other was a bunkhouse of some sort.

  The scene in front of me was sketchy enough on its own, but the fact that I didn’t see another soul, alive or dead, nor any vehicles made it terrifying. I was beginning to think I must’ve gotten the wrong address. There was no way Hud could’ve meant this place, unless he was joking. But, a small voice in the back of my head reminded me that Hudson Reed didn’t make mistakes and he wasn’t known for his pranks, especially when it came to anything having to do with his role as an officer of the law.

  A shiver ran down my spine as the wind kicked up. A few tree limbs tapped against the side of the broken-down farmhouse, and the urge for me to put my car back in drive, flip a U-ey, and floor it screamed at me so loudly I nearly dropped everything and listened to it.

  As much as I liked to play up my tough-girl reputation, the truth was, deep down I was a big ol’ scaredy cat. I’d never been able to watch scary movies, and forget about psychological thrillers. No. Thank. You. Just seeing the commercials for It Follows had given me nightmares for weeks. I never understood how or why people considered being scared entertainment. It wasn’t fun. It was horrible, scarring, and traumatic.

  A shadow danced a menacing jig across the front porch of the house.

  Yeah, leaving sounded better by the second.

  “What do you think?” I turned to the sleeping black lab on my passenger seat, who happened to be the only thing stopping me from putting this place in the rearview. If I’d left Romeo at home and shown up solo this morning, there was no way I would still be here.

  I’d already been halfway up to Emerald Cove when I’d turned around and gone back to get him. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here today, and I didn’t want him home alone. I may have changed my clothes once (or three times) when I’d stopped back by the house, just in case Hud happened to stop by and check on my “manual labor.” But even the promise of Hud seeing me in my faded, form-fitting blue jeans was not enough to tip the scales towards staying.

  “Should we get the hell out of here?”

  A heavy sigh as he repositioned himself so that his nose was tucked closer to his tail was the only response I got.

  “Well, you’re no help,” I grumbled as I scratched behind his ear and tried to decide whether or not I should blow this horror show Popsicle stand.

  As much as I wanted to make like the trees and leave, I did have legal repercussions to consider. Technically, I’d done as Hudson had told me. I was here, in work clothes, at eight.

  Well, eight-ish. Thanks to my change of heart and outfits.

  Thankfully, I’d remembered the area and was able to navigate it easily. Growing up, my family would come out to Emerald Cove Lake every summer for our annual Briggs family vacation. That all stopped around seventh grade. I’d missed that year because Cara had been diagnosed with Leukemia, so I’d spent the entire summer in the hospital with her.

  Then the next year, we didn’t go because it was too busy after my parents expanded Briggs Farms. All the years after that something had just always come up. So, I hadn’t been up here in a good decade or so, but from the looks of the area I’d driven past so far, not much had changed.

  Reaching past a very content and curled up Romeo, I stretched my arm to the floorboard in front of him where my purse was sitting and pulled out my phone. It was time to bite the bullet and call…dun, dun, dun…Hudson. I’d hesitated initially because I knew that he would just think that I was making excuses. If I called and said that there wasn’t anyone here or that the place was spookier than watching The Shining all alone in my parents’ house when I was ten—which was probably the reason that I hated horror movies to this day—I knew that he would make some condescending remark or worse, threaten me with Judge Patterson again.

  But, what choice did I have?

  No way was I going to get out and try and find my contact person, whoever they might be. Even with my guard dog at my side, that was not going to happen. And sitting on the outskirts of the property while my imagination ran wild wasn’t exactly fulfilling my community service obligation. Plus, I was basically a sitting duck for whatever evil apparition lurked in the shadows. Or worse, a real life chainsaw killer.

  Yeah, it was time to go. First, I needed to let my self-appointed parole officer know that his ward was on the lam. My bail, or whatever he’d bargained with to convince Cruella not to press charges, was about to be revoked. And whatever snarky, rude, or legally threatening response he had to my bailing on this was better than the alternative—death by chainsaw.

  I took a deep breath and started scrolling through my contacts until I found Officer Killjoy. A small smile tugged on my mouth at the name I had his number saved under. I’d done it after he’d come to break-up my housewarming party about a year ago because of “noise complaints”—even though we both knew that the only person who had complained was Maggie Drover. She lived one street over and had hated me since I was eight. I’d lied for my oldest brother Sawyer, whom she claimed to still be in love with to this day. I’d told her that he had a girl up in his room so she couldn’t see him,
when she and I both knew he didn’t. I just hadn’t liked her and didn’t want my brother to do something gross like kiss her. I also hadn’t let her come in and check for herself. So she’d climbed up the tree and knocked on his second story window.

  She was a psycho then and not much had changed in the past fifteen years.

  My finger pressed against my screen over the black letters that read Officer Killjoy at the exact moment a loud knock sounded beside me.

  I screamed as the phone flew from my grasp. Romeo went ballistic jumping on my lap growling and barking ferociously in an attempt to defend me. My head flew towards the killer on the other side of the window as I frantically tried to reach the gear shift to put the car in reverse, a task made extremely difficult thanks to Romeo straddling the console.

  When the information my eyes were seeing finally made it to my brain, I realized that it was not a murderer waiting for me, it was Hudson. And not just any Hudson. Oh, no. It was my favorite version of Hudson Reed.

  Hudson Reed in sweats was hot. Hudson Reed in his uniform was scorching. Hudson Reed in jeans and cowboy boots was sizzling. But the Hudson Reed that stood before me now was off the heat-chart explosive.

  He had a ball cap on that framed his face like a work of art. He wore a white t-shirt that fit his body as if it had been tailored to his sculpted arms and chest. The faded denim of his jeans were distressed in exactly the right places to highlight just how gifted he was below the belt. And then there was what I considered the pinnacle of sexiness, just enough scruff along his jaw to make my palms itch with the need to touch him.

  “You planning on sitting here all day?” His deep voice boomed even through the glass.

  Romeo, who apparently recognized Hud from his baritone words, stopped barking and started wagging his tail—or more accurately his entire backend—in excitement. He whined and cried as he began scratching at the door, wanting to get to Hudson.

  I could relate.

  The second the door opened, all I saw was a blur of black fur flying over me as he jumped up and down, his front paws all over Hud’s now paw-print covered white shirt.

  “Sit,” Hudson commanded gruffly.

  Romeo immediately plopped down on his hind legs, his tail still going a mile a minute as he looked up with admiration and awe at the man that he now recognized as his alpha.

  I couldn’t blame him. Hud hadn’t even directed his one-word order towards me and I wanted to sit at his feet, wag my tail, and look up at him with a lot more than awe and admiration. Since I could remember, I’d wanted Hud to be my alpha. Unfortunately, he had no interest in that position.

  Hud rewarded Romeo’s obedience, scratching him behind his left ear.

  White-hot jealousy spread through my chest…for a dog. The ridiculously inappropriate and disproportionate response quickly morphed into irritation at myself. Why did my body always betray me when it came to Hudson Reed? I’d been with my fair share of men. Hot men. Sexy men. Bad boys who turned me on with a wicked smile and an even wickeder gleam in their eye.

  But none of them had ever caused my body to rebel against my brain. I’d always been in control of whether or not I indulged in the feelings that they inspired. No matter what my hormones or heart were doing, my mind had always been the one in charge. Growing up, my brothers had always joked around with each other about the wrong head making decisions when it came to girls. I’d always just assumed that it was an excuse men used to exonerate themselves of dog-like behavior. Kind of like how girls used being tipsy to explain away bad one-night stands.

  Sadly, the more time I spent around Hudson, the more empathy I had for my brothers. If the random girls that they hooked up with inspired half of what Hud inspired in me then I couldn’t blame my brothers for their behavior.

  “What the hell is this place?” I snapped with much more of a bitchy bite than I’d intended as I swung my leg out and stepped onto the dirt, feeling more than a little on edge thanks to my overactive libido and the fear that was coursing through my veins.

  “It’s your job for the next five weeks.” He straightened to his full six-foot-two height, causing a shadow to fall over me and block the rising sun.

  As I locked eyes with him, I immediately regretted my footwear. I knew that it was ridiculous, but heels had always been my version of armor whenever I went into battle. Whether it was a blind date, an internship, or a job interview, slipping on a pair of heels had my inner Lynda Carter spinning around and transforming into Wonder Woman.

  If I ever needed to become Wonder Woman, it was now. Whatever this was between Hud and I was manifesting itself into an epic battle of the sexes. And it was a battle that I was completely unprepared for.

  Standing up as tall as my five-foot-three frame would stretch, I lifted my chin. “Five weeks? You can not be serious.”

  “Two hundred hours of supervised community service,” he stated flatly before repeating, “Five. Weeks.”

  I had never claimed to be a math whiz, so I didn’t argue with his timeframe.

  “Supervised community service?” That was news to me, not that I planned on protesting. If this was where I was going to serve my sentence the last thing that I wanted to be was unsupervised.

  “Yes. That was what Cruella agreed to.”

  I didn’t, for a second, miss the fact that he’d referred to the shrew at the animal shelter as Cruella. Around my brothers and his friends, Hud had a great sense of humor. Around me he’d always been all business, all the time.

  A smile began to spread at the corners of my mouth. “And will you be the one doing the supervising?”

  “I wouldn’t subject anyone else to it. The last thing I want is to be accused of using cruel and unusual punishment,” he teased as a half-smile appeared on his normally stoic face.

  “Two jokes in the last minute…that must be a record for you.” I shut the car door behind me and pressed the lock button on the fob.

  “You really think that’s necessary?” Hud raised his right brow.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it in your job description to promote safety?” Narrowing my eyes, I crossed my arms and sighed. “I don’t think discouraging a young woman—who was lured to a deserted area—from locking her door is really what they had in mind when you were sworn to protect and serve.”

  I watched as a spark of humor lit his melted caramel gaze. His lips twitched before his expression softened. “Like I said, cruel and unusual punishment.”

  He turned and started stalking towards the barn-like structure with Romeo trailing behind him wagging his tail happily. Knowing that I really didn’t have a choice, I followed them. My eyes tracked his backside like a heat-seeking missile locked on its target. That was one fine looking ass, and the body it was attached to should be registered as a lethally sexy weapon.

  For as long as I could remember I’d done everything I could to get Hudson Reed’s attention. Most of the time it didn’t work, and when it did, it wasn’t the kind of attention I wanted. Maybe I was too hard on karma, because it seemed that two hundred hours of Hud’s attention for breaking Romeo out of doggie jail was tipping the scales of justice in my favor.

  Yeah, supervised community service at the haunted house wasn’t looking too bad. Not. Bad. At. All.

  Chapter 6

  Hudson

  “You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.”

  ~ Loretta Reed

  Using my body weight as leverage, I leaned in with my shoulder and forced the heavy, wooden barn door open. The stale smell of hay, dust and wood shavings billowed out with the strength of a dragon breathing fire. Stepping inside, I reached down and picked up a few pieces of the debris that was littered across the dirt floor and tossed it into a pile that I’d started when I arrived. That was about an hour before I’d seen Harmony sitting in her car. She looked as horrified as the time her senior class went to the cemetery after prom. I had just graduated from the University of Texas and moved back home. My first night back I�
�d been driving home from my friend Colton’s house and saw a terrified Harmony walking alone on the path that led to Wishing Well Cemetery.

  That night, five years ago, had been eye opening for a lot of reasons. Seeing Harmony that vulnerable was surprising in and of itself, but my reaction to her vulnerability was even more shocking. The second I’d seen her expression and body language, I wanted to pull her into my arms and chase away every fear, every worry, every thing that tried to hurt her. I wanted to tell her she never had to be scared again because I would die before I’d ever let anything bad happen to her.

  Obviously, I hadn’t done any of those things.

  Instead I’d snapped at her to get in the truck and drove her home while she’d talked a mile a minute about how she’d thought she’d be fine going into the cemetery with her friends, but once she got there the fear had been paralyzing and caused her to go mute. When her feet had planted themselves in place next to a large headstone, her friends hadn’t noticed. She’d opened her mouth to scream to get their attention, but no sound had come out. She’d finally been able to force her feet to move and she’d run out the way she’d come.

  That’s when I’d seen her and picked her up. The primal protective emotion she’d stirred in me had been bad enough, but when I’d pulled into Briggs Farms to drop her off, she’d thrown her arms around me and nuzzled her face into my neck as she breathlessly thanked me over and over again.

  To this day, if I closed my eyes, I could still feel the heat of her sweet breath fan down my neck, still feel her soft breasts pressed up against my chest, still smell the unique scent of wildflowers and strawberries that was uniquely Harmony.

  It meant I needed to keep my eyes wide open for the next five weeks.

  Picking up a rotted two-by-four, I tossed it on the pile. Scanning the area, it was not lost on me that this place didn’t look like much now, but it was perfect for what I needed.