by Bella Andre
But all the while, she couldn't help but wonder if the feel of his kisses still lingering on her skin revealed the true story: that where Will was concerned, she wasn't in control of anything at all.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"No, Miss Newman," Harper's client said to her over the phone the following afternoon, "there's no way I can get there earlier. My son is sick, so I couldn't take him to day care. But my husband will be home by five, and it will only take me fifteen minutes to get to your office."
Harper breathed deeply, then calmly replied, "That's fine. These things happen, and I hope your son feels better soon." Hadn't she run into the same problem when Jeremy wasn't well? Illness was the bane of the working parent's existence.
But the meeting delay left her in a real bind. She was supposed to pick up Jeremy from his after-school job at the grocery store at five. Finding someone to take over the task with two hours' notice late on a Thursday afternoon would be difficult. There was no way she could make it to the store, then back to the office that quickly in rush-hour traffic. And she couldn't postpone the meeting, either. Not when she had a position open that Carol's resume indicated she'd be perfect for, and the first-round interviews shut down tomorrow.
She called Trish, who didn't answer, probably because she was in class. After leaving a message, Harper mentally tapped her fingers waiting for a return call, but when it didn't come after twenty minutes, she knew she had to find an alternative.
For some crazy reason, the first person she thought of was Will.
Actually, it wasn't all that crazy, given that she hadn't stopped thinking about him since Wednesday morning. To be honest...she hadn't actually been able to stop thinking about him since the day he'd raced into their lives a month ago.
He'd told her to call if she needed anything. Had he meant it?
She picked up the receiver on her land line, holding it to her chest a moment, the dial tone vibrating against her as she thought about Will's promise on Wednesday morning--that he was saving up his fully unleashed passion for her and the next fast ride they took together. She didn't care that some might say it lacked the romance of moonlight and rose petals on a big, soft bed. Sex in a car, the almost clandestine nature of it, actually excited her more. As had the quickie in her living room, which had taken her to a level of heat she'd never experienced before.
Even after kicking him out to prove the point that he didn't hold all the power, she'd still ended up working in a dreamy daze all day. He'd made their quickie on her couch all about her. What kind of man put his own pleasure second? Could it possibly be the kind of man who would help her out of a tight bind that had nothing whatsoever to do with sex?
She punched in his cell number, and he answered on the second ring. "Harper, I was just thinking about you."
All he had to do was say her name in that sexy drawl and she melted like an ice cube in the summertime. It suddenly occurred to her that he might have picked up the call assuming she had something sexy to say to him. But since he knew how important her brother was to her, she hoped he wouldn't be too surprised when she said, "I have a huge favor to ask. I'm supposed to pick Jeremy up by five at the grocery store where he works, but I've got a meeting I can't miss."
"I'll get him."
Just that quickly, her heart swelled in her chest, the same way it had last Saturday when he'd been so kind to Jeremy while working on the Maserati. His sweetness had prompted her instant decision to take a risk by spending a few hot nights with him. It meant a great deal to her that Will didn't ask questions, didn't make excuses. He simply offered to help.
At the same time, however, she knew running a billion-dollar corporation couldn't be at all easy. And he'd already given her and Jeremy so much of his limited free time. "I thought you might have a driver? Or that maybe Mrs. Taylor could do it? I'm sure you're probably still up in the city and I know how busy you are."
"I'm happy to do it, Harper."
She'd called him to ask for help, and now that he was giving it so freely--and she needed it so badly--she stopped trying to talk him out of it. "Thank you. I really appreciate it." He had no idea how much. Not since her parents died had she been able to pick up the phone and call someone who would bail her out so quickly and easily. Not until Will.
He was too good, a dream come true. She didn't have anything to offer in return. Except for sex. It shouldn't make her smile to think of paying off her debts in his bed, but lately, everything about Will made her smile. "If you can drop him off at the house, I should be home by six-thirty. He'll be fine until then."
"No, I'll stay until you get home. I know you don't like him to be alone. Don't worry about a thing tonight. I've got it covered."
And maybe, she found herself hoping, even though she'd already had far more than a sensible quota of him for the week, he was also staying so that he could spend time with her, too. "Thank you," she said again. "You're sweet."
He gave a burst of incredulous laughter. "No one has ever called me sweet in my entire life."
"But you are."
"Believe me," he said in a voice that was suddenly serious, "I'm not sweet. But I promise I'll always do whatever I can for you and Jeremy."
Will made a lot of promises. And though Harper was still wary of letting Jeremy--or herself--get hurt, Will hadn't broken a single one yet.
*
The grocery store was only a ten-minute walk from Harper's house. Will figured Jeremy could probably have handled it just fine, but he knew Harper would have worried the whole time. It wasn't Will's business to say anything about how she handled her brother. Besides, hearing her voice over the phone had been the best thing that had happened to him all day, and even if he'd just blown off several meetings, he wanted to see her more than he wanted to sit in on a conference call. Not to mention the fact that he'd been able to hear her desperation when she'd asked him for the favor...along with a note in her voice that told him she'd expected him to say no.
Will loved surprising Harper. In fact, his plan was to keep surprising her over and over again, in the best possible ways.
Seeing Harper once a week wasn't nearly enough. And he wasn't just thinking about the hot sex they'd had in his garage after their date. He missed her laughter, her innate spark. He grinned every time he thought about the way she'd kicked him out of her house Wednesday morning, loving the way she could be so soft and pliable one moment, then strong and determined the next.
Both Harper and Jeremy added something to his life, something he couldn't define, but that he now realized had been missing for quite a while. It had been in that strange weariness he'd felt in the months before meeting them, a sense that all the wealth and all the changes he'd made in his life were no longer enough.
The traffic was bad, but fortunately Will arrived at the grocery store before Jeremy's shift was over. The place was a madhouse, with working moms rushing in and out, men with nothing but frozen dinners in their carts, and teenagers holding six-packs of soda. Though all the checkstands were open, the lines still snaked down the aisles.
He spotted Harper's brother three checkstands away, loading a vast expanse of groceries into reusable shopping bags. The mother had a child in the cart and two more were milling around Jeremy's legs. His tongue between his lips in concentration, Jeremy was trying to stack food carefully in the bags, but the kids kept screaming and jumping, bumping into him and knocking him off his rhythm. The mother shook her head, glaring at Jeremy with her mouth pursed.
Will headed down to them, his immediate thought being to intercede, or even help pack the groceries. Until he thought about the humiliation factor. Will didn't want Jeremy to think he couldn't handle the job. Here he'd just been thinking that Harper didn't always give Jeremy enough credit, like being able to walk home by himself, but rushing to her brother's rescue now would be exactly the same thing.
By that point, the checker, a stout woman with frizzy red hair, was furiously loading goods into plastic bags as well, tossing them at
Jeremy and pointing to the cart. "Come on, come on," she practically yelled at him.
There was too much confusion, too many people waiting. And the customer was doing absolutely nothing to control her kids. A cantaloupe rolled down, and Jeremy stuffed it into the last bag.
"Do you need help out to your car, ma'am?" he asked politely.
"No, I do not." The woman snapped her fingers, and the two kids ran like furies out the door while the one in the cart screeched at an earsplitting volume.
Not wanting to blow Jeremy's concentration, Will was about to back off and let him finish his shift. Until he heard the checker say, "You put that cantaloupe on top of her eggs. Can't you do anything right?"
"I'm sorry," Jeremy said. "I didn't mean to mess up."
"I don't know why they hire people like you. You're so slow. You and your pea-sized brain. Idiot."
"I'm really sorry," Jeremy said again, his face now completely red.
"If she complains, I'm gonna tell the management it's your fault for being the worst bagger we've ever had."
Rage welled up in Will. His hands fisted until his knuckles turned stark white. If Jeremy hadn't been there as witness...if the clerk had so much as laid a hand on him...if Will hadn't damn near annihilated the Road Warrior inside him...
Will reached Jeremy's side just as she issued the last threat. He flayed the woman with a look that could shred flesh. "Don't ever talk to Jeremy that way again. Apologize to him. Now."
The checker's hands stopped moving over the scanner, where she was holding a can of green beans. She stared at Will, openmouthed. Finally, she muttered, "I'm sorry."
"Say his name when you apologize to him." Will hadn't raised his voice, but his intent to tear her apart with his bare hands if she didn't fix things was crystal clear nonetheless.
"His name?" Her face screwed up. "I don't know."
"Didn't you just say you work with him all the time? How can you not know his name?"
Fixing her stare on Jeremy, she opened her mouth, and by her narrowed eyes, Will was sure something merciless was about to spew out. Until she looked back at him, took in the steely set of his mouth--and the silent threat in his eyes--and swallowed hard. "I think it's Jeremy."
"Apologize again. Properly."
"I'm sorry, Jeremy."
"It's okay." Jeremy's face was still beet red.
Will gave her one last look that personified the expression if looks could kill. And the clerk clearly recognized it. "There are no idiots here." Except her. "And I will know if you use that word to speak to anyone here again. Ever." He turned to Jeremy. "Ten minutes left on your shift, buddy. I'll wait for you over there." He crooked his chin toward the door, where the checker would be in his sights.
"Okay, Will," Jeremy said, his voice too quiet.
Watching from his spot over by the doorway, Will was afraid he'd make Jeremy nervous. On the other hand, there was no way he'd let anyone have another crack at Harper's brother. But Jeremy did well, with no more cantaloupe-versus-eggs incidents. He even helped an old lady out with her groceries. She winked as she passed Will. "You did good, sonny. That woman's always been a nasty piece of work."
Of course, the checker was as sweet as apple pie for the rest of the time that Will watched. Then it was five, and Jeremy ran to clock out. When he returned, Will slung an arm around his shoulder as he removed his store apron. "You did real good in there."
"I didn't. I put the melon on the eggs."
"They probably didn't break. And even if they did, it was just a mistake. We all make mistakes sometimes." As Jeremy climbed into the BMW, Will wished he'd had one of his fun cars for the kid to enjoy. "Is it always like that in there?"
"Like what?"
"Busy. Crazy." With nasty women calling him nasty names. Will's jaw tensed again thinking about the madness that had almost taken over when he'd seen Jeremy being bullied.
"Just at the end," Jeremy confessed. "Most of the time it's fine. But around five, it's really busy."
Will didn't like it. The boy had to put up with that every single damn day. How many times had someone called him an idiot? Will's hands were fists on the steering wheel. For so many reasons, nothing bothered him more than watching people being bullied. "That woman shouldn't be working there." His voice was a growl.
Jeremy fluttered his hands in the air. "Sadie didn't mean it. It's just that her mom's sick and she's going to die soon."
He wanted to say that was no excuse for being a total jerk. Sometimes, he knew, there were reasons why a person lost control. Not an excuse, just a reason. But he still couldn't quite squash the desire to flatten the woman with a cast iron skillet versus a fly swatter.
Will had tried to tell himself he didn't solve things with his fists anymore, but in that grocery store, he'd been ready to run down anything in his path. It was the part of himself he still feared lurked inside him, even after all the years since he'd ditched the gang.
"Jeremy--"
"Are you going to get her fired, Will? 'Cause I'd feel really bad if you did." The plea appeared as two big furrows across Jeremy's brow and a moist sheen in his eyes.
Will didn't want to let the woman off the hook, but for Jeremy he'd make an exception. "I'll give her one more chance. But if she treats you like that again, I need to know about it. Okay?"
"Okay." Jeremy nodded vigorously.
It was time to lighten the mood. Jeremy needed to move on even if Will's nerves were still firing like a racing engine. "Now, what do you say we order some Chinese? I know a great place."
"Yay." Jeremy clapped, his enthusiastic self again, as if he'd forgotten the whole thing.
Will could only hope that he had.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"I'll be back in the office tomorrow morning," Will told Maya, his Human Resources director. It was after seven and he'd had to call her at home. "Thanks for rescheduling our meeting." Ending the call, Will turned to Jeremy. "Enjoying dinner?"
Jeremy nodded exuberantly. Seated at the breakfast bar in Harper's kitchen, he was chowing down on yet another helping of sweet-and-sour pork.
"I've got another question for you," Will said. "How would you feel about a new job?"
"For me?" Jeremy asked, his mouth full. Harper likely wouldn't be pleased with the lack of manners, but Will felt it meant that Jeremy's guard was down with him. More like a person was with family.
"Yeah. A job for you."
He wanted to make things better for Jeremy. Will hated it when the big fish picked on the little ones.
Mostly because at one time he'd been the big fish. But that had ended with the Mavericks. It had taken a few years before he'd believed that he truly belonged with them, but they became his brothers. And even if he hadn't been as careful with other people as he should have been, he'd always fought for the Mavericks and protected them when they needed it.
But it had been a long, long time since anyone had needed him like that. Until Jeremy and Harper.
"What kind of job?" There was a piece of rice on Jeremy's shirt, which Will flicked onto the bar top.
He'd come by the idea somewhere between ordering the Chinese food and the delivery person's dropping it off: If Jeremy worked for him, he would no longer be a victim of sharp-tongued checkers. Or anyone else, for that matter. No one at Franconi Imports would dare to call him names. He would be treated with respect, Will would make sure of that. There would be no late-afternoon customer rush to confuse him, either. Sure, the tasks would be new to him, but they'd teach him new skills without the stress of too many people coming all at once. Anyone would have a problem with the environment he'd been in.
"How about working in my mailroom?" Will said. "You can deliver mail, pick up packages."
Jeremy's eyes glowed. "You mean like a postman?"
Will nodded, smiling. "A postman for my employees."
"Wow. Cool." Jeremy bit off half his spring roll and chewed, his eyes wide.
"You can also pick up people's papers to put throug
h the shredder, and run office errands, and deliver supplies." The more he thought about it, the more tasks came to mind that Jeremy could easily handle. "What do you think? Would you like to try it?"
Jeremy nodded eagerly. "I do!"
Harper's brother was so exuberant about everything that sometimes it was hard to tell if he actually wanted to do something or he merely thought he needed to play the yes man. Which was why Will asked, "Will you miss your friends at the grocery store?"
"Yes, but that's okay. I like making new friends." Jeremy shoveled more food into his mouth.
"Great. We'll talk to Harper and see what she thinks."
"Okay, Will."
She opened the front door almost as Will said her name--and he got that special little kick under his ribs when he saw her. Her lipstick had worn off as though she'd been biting her lips on the way home, her suit jacket was crumpled in her hand, and she was clutching a grocery bag that looked ready to topple.
She'd never looked more gorgeous.
Will moved quickly toward her, grabbing the sack before it fell. And then, without a word of greeting, he planted his mouth on hers. The kiss was sweet and closemouthed in front of her brother, but it still made his heart beat faster. Especially when she leaned into him, as though she was glad that he was there to put his arms around her.
"Sorry I'm late," she said as she drew back. "I forgot we needed milk. The lines at the store were atrocious."
"I want to talk to you about that. But later. Right now, you need sustenance."
He took her jacket, laying it over the back of the sofa. Then he stashed the milk in the fridge and pulled out the wine he'd been chilling.
"Oh my God." She stopped dead in the kitchen. "You did the dishes. But how?"
"Believe it or not, I've loaded a dishwasher and washed dishes plenty of times," he said wryly. She seemed to have the mistaken notion that he'd been brought up privileged. Then again, he hadn't exactly shared the truth about his childhood with her, had he? So why would she think any differently?
"I helped," her brother piped up.
"That's great, Jeremy, thank you," she said. But she was glancing warily at the dishwasher.
"Don't worry," Will said. "I also know the dry soap goes in the machine and the liquid is for the hand-washing."