Love and Lingerie

by Lacey Black

  His question catches me off guard. I glance up into his dark brown eyes and notice a certain sparkle that wasn’t there before. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Harper knew about the building, and you knew about the building. No one else knew it was for sale,” Dad says, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for me to catch up.

  “You told her,” I say aloud, finally understanding what he’s getting at.

  “I did.”

  “Why?” He knew we needed that space for our expansion. Why else would he tell someone else about it? We could have been the only bidder, securing us that space in no time. Instead, he told Harper. Why?

  “Because you have always loved her.”

  Okay. Wasn’t expecting that.

  I clear my throat and try to think of something to say, but come up empty. He’s not wrong, not even close. I just hate he’s known all this time; hell, he knew before I even realized it. I mean, it’s a little embarrassing that your dad knows you fell in love in high school with the girl you lost your virginity to, ran off and joined the military, and returned fourteen years later in the same shape as when you left.

  “You don’t have to say anything. Your face says it all,” Dad says with a little more of a smile.

  “I don’t understand why telling her about the building is a positive, Dad. You knew we needed it for expansion.”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “We would have figured something out without that building, Lath. You’re a smart man and one hell of a businessman. I saw it when you were working here part time after school and on weekends. You love this place and what it represents. If push came to shove, I knew you’d do whatever it took to keep the doors open – with or without the building next door.”

  His words sit heavily in my gut as I take in his compliment, as well as trying to figure out his motives.

  “There is a way for you both to have your dreams, Lath. You just have to figure out how.”

  I close my eyes again, her face instantly filling the darkness. “I don’t know how.”

  “Yes you do,” he says as he stands up. “Let’s go sign those papers. We have a big undertaking in front of us and we need to get the ball rolling. Plus, you have to figure out how to win back the woman you love.”

  Sure, Dad.

  Easy.

  * * *

  The next two weeks fly by in a flurry of tearing down walls and rebuilding new. Replacing the old front window into something more modern and more energy efficient is top priority, while trying to decide how to tell the woman I love I’m an asshole is the other.

  No, wait.

  Check that.

  She already knows that.

  I need to tell her I was wrong, plain and simple.

  I stay late, trying to help get our expansion ready. The contractor we are using has made great progress these past two weeks, and now the plumber is coming in to update the plumbing in the small bathroom in back. We’re going to make this one a public bathroom for customers, something we don’t have on the larger, original side of the business.

  The worst part is knowing she’s on the opposite side of the wall, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. I’ve caught sight of her a few times, entering or leaving her shop, but she doesn’t look around – doesn’t even give one over the shoulder glance at the building positioned between her business and mine.

  The pranks have stopped. Those petty tricks between two sworn enemies, turned lovers, I’ve come to love and expect as part of my day…gone. It’s been almost three weeks without them, without her. Each day is hell, but it’s also one day closer to getting her back.

  Will she have me?

  That’s the big question, one I try not to dwell too much on.

  Instead, I focus on what I can control.

  The expansion.

  I move to the front of the building. With my hands shoved in my pockets, I glance around the new space. This might very well be my favorite part of the upgraded building. The floors are hardwood, a deep, rich walnut that complements the freshly painted earthy taupe walls. The interior space is nearly complete, and then the contractor will work on refinishing the roof, and I’ll put the finishing touches on the room.

  Flipping off the lights, I head back through the brick archway into our existing space. Dale is finished closing down the register, so I flip the last of the light switches, and gather the moneybag for tonight’s deposit. “I’ll drop it off. I’m gonna head out back and work for a while.”

  Dale gives me a pointed look, but doesn’t say anything. He knows what project I’m referring to, knows how late I’ve been working into the night to get it all completed. But it beats the hell out of tossing and turning all night long in my piece of shit bed, wishing my arms were wrapped around Harper.

  “I’ll take it, Lath. I’m parked on the side. It’ll be easier for me to head out the front and drop it in the night deposit box,” our faithful employee says.

  “If you insist. I don’t mind, though,” I say, engaging the lock.

  “You just want to walk by the undies store and catch a glimpse of the pretty owner,” he teases, knowing full well he’s one-hundred-percent correct.

  I shrug my shoulder. “Maybe.”

  Dale snorts. “Ain’t no maybe about it, boy.” Dale takes the bag from me and heads toward the front door. I follow so I can lock up behind him. Before he exits the building, he turns back and says, “You’re doin’ the right thing, Lath. She’ll see it.”

  Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I nod. “I hope so,” I finally reply.

  He grabs my shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. “Have faith, boy. Just have faith.”

  And then he’s gone, heading down the sidewalk, past Harper’s store and to the bank on the corner. I lock up behind him, make sure everything is shut down, and make my way out the back. I bypass the stairs leading up to my apartment, since there’s nothing up there for me anyway except a week’s worth of dirty clothes and some moldy leftovers.

  Outside, I spy her car still in the lot beside the alley. It takes everything I have not to go pound on her door and force her to talk to me. But if my dad has taught me anything, it’s that actions speak louder than words. I just pray she sees my actions as a positive, rather than a negative.

  Ignoring the pull to go to her, I head into the building where our lumber is stored. It’s a tight fit in here, but Dad was able to keep a small area open for cutting wood and small projects. For the last few nights, I’ve been out here making new shelving units for the addition. I didn’t want your typical metal storage systems for the entire space, though we are using it for the back area that’ll house chainsaws, leaf blowers, and hedge trimmers.

  Leaving the big door open to let the warm August air blow through, I head to the corner of the shop and grab the sander. The two large pieces are done, but I’m working on a small unit that’ll fit directly under the front window. It has cubical bins for merchandise and a padded bench for sitting. I’ve never had a seating area in the store before, but I can definitely see the benefits. How many times has a man brought his wife along into the hardware store, and while he browsed for his purchases, she looked bored out of her mind, like she’d rather be anywhere else but there? When I told my mom about the idea, she volunteered to make the cushions.

  My mom’s the best.

  I finish sanding the entire unit and get ready to apply the second coat of stain. Once it’s dry, I’ll add a few coats of polyurethane, to make sure it’s well protected and sealed, and then figure out how to haul it inside. I’ve got a few buddies I could probably call, but most of them I haven’t talked to yet since I returned. My mind instantly goes to Jensen and Samuel, who would probably rather drop the wooden units on my dead body than actually help me carry them inside the new space.

  Headlights fill the alleyway, but I don’t look up. It’s probably Harper leaving for the night, and I don’t really want to see her ignoring me (not that I bl
ame her). A car door opens and closes, which tells me it’s probably my dad. Mom has been sending him over with extra food lately, ever since I fucked everything up with Harper.

  Dad steps into the doorway, but doesn’t say a word. I’m not really in the mood for a lecture, so I keep on stirring the stain as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

  “You just going to pretend I’m not here?”

  I know that voice, and it definitely doesn’t belong to my father.

  Glancing up, my eyes connect with those of Harper’s oldest brother. He’s wearing a charcoal gray suit, and his black shoes look like they cost my last paycheck. “Samuel,” I state, standing up straight and setting down the stain.

  Neither of us speaks as we continue to stare at each other. I have no clue why he’s here, but he clearly has something to say. Hell, he probably wouldn’t mind taking a swing at me, not that I’d blame him. Not that I’d fight him off, either. I deserve any punches thrown my way.

  “Was it an act?”

  My throat tightens. “No.”

  “No?” he asks, stepping inside the warehouse and walking my way.

  “Not one moment of being with your sister was an act.”

  He crosses his arms and continues to watch me. “I have a hard time believing that, especially after she outright asked you about it, and you didn’t deny it.”

  I come around the table and lean back against it. He’s only a few feet in front of me now, his dark blue eyes boring into me. “I admit, I didn’t handle things right where Harper is concerned, but I did try to talk to her. She just wouldn’t hear it. I had planned to tell her about the building that afternoon, but she got the call from her realtor before I could.”

  “You were going to tell her you were the bidder or that you had won?”

  The air thickens around me. “Both.”

  “Why did you start seeing her?” he asks, taking another step forward.

  “Why?” I ask with a humorous laugh. Sobering, I tell him exactly why. “Because she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, inside and out. She’s fiery and bossy. She knows how to get under my skin faster than anyone ever has before. She doesn’t put up with my crap, and doesn’t expect me to put up with hers either. She’s cagey when it comes to men, mostly because the ones in her past have jerked her around, but when she finally gives you her heart, it’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever experienced.”

  “Yet you fucked it up.”

  I hold his stare. “Yeah, I did. I didn’t get a chance to tell her about it at the party because she was already so pissed off and hurt, nothing I said would have mattered. I was a fucking idiot. I thought if I let her cool down a little, we’d be able to talk, like reasonable adults.”

  Samuel snorts. “When have you ever known Harper to be reasonable?”

  The corners of my mouth curl upward for the first time in ages. “True.” I stand up straight and face her brother. “I fucked up, I know. I love your sister, and have for pretty much my entire adult life. If I could go back in time and redo it all, I would, but I can’t. So now I’m trying to right my fucking wrong, trying to undo the pain and hurt I caused her. I’m going to explain and make her realize how much I love her.”

  He watches me for several long seconds, and I’ll admit, I start to sweat a little. Not that I need Samuel’s approval on anything, but it would definitely make it easier in the future. A future I hope to have with Harper.

  “You love her?”

  “With everything I am.” My words are the dead truth.

  He glances down and then around the workspace. “What’s this?” he asks, pointing to the storage bench I’m making.

  “A few things for the new addition.”

  And then I tell him all about my plans for the space. He even takes off his suit jacket, rolls up his sleeves, and grabs a paintbrush. For the next few hours, Samuel and I work in unison, finishing up the final piece of new furniture for the store, leaving the final coat of sealant to dry overnight. When he goes to leave, he sticks out his hand and offers me a small smile. “For what it’s worth, I hope you two are able to figure this stuff out. You’re good for her,” he adds, just before heading over to his car and disappearing into the darkness.

  I glance to my left, saddened to see her car gone. She probably left hours ago.

  My body is starting to ache as I make my way up the stairs to my tiny little apartment above the hardware store, wishing she were here. Wishing I could wrap my tired arms around her. Wishing I could kiss her one more time.

  Wishing everything was different.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Harper

  The music is a little louder than normal, but I’m desperate to drown out the hammering and drilling next door. Every day, it’s a painful reminder of the lengths someone would go to just to get what they want.

  Well, he won.

  The building is his.

  I don’t even really care anymore that he won the bid, and I didn’t. I mean, did it suck, finding out? Hell yeah, it did. I had plans for that space, dreams even. This expansion would have meant the potential influx in business for Kiss Me Goodnight, by bringing in more local product and expanding my inventory. I can probably figure out how to still make some of that happen in my current space, though it’ll be a little more challenging.

  What hurts the most is being made the fool. Being duped. Trusting someone and having him let you down. Should I have questioned him after I started to suspect he was the other bidder? Yes. I know that. But he should have told me. Maybe not in the beginning, but the moment we started sharing a bed (or a wall or floor, in some cases), he should have come clean about everything.

  Instead, he kept it to himself.

  And slept with me.

  My gut starts to churn with anxiety as I think back to our fight. He tried to defend himself, though I really didn’t give him much of a chance to speak. That’s one of my faults, not to listen when I get so worked up. I blame my dad for that fun trait. But in the end, I just couldn’t get past the truth: he slept with me for the building.

  That was the most painful realization of them all. That someone I care about, someone I fell in l-word with, would do something so dirty. So cheap.

  Yes, l-word. I refuse to say it.

  Instead, I’m going to put it all behind me. I’m going to make a few changes to my shop and inquire about a small loan to remodel and expand my product line. Rhenn has already given me a few suggestions, and even offered to have Ryan Elson, my cousin Jaime’s husband, come by on their next visit, to give me a few ideas. I have space here; I just need to figure out how to maximize it.

  I’ve been working late into the evening, most nights, to make the most of my space. Well, that and because I can’t sleep. When I’m at home, I think about Latham, and he’s the last person I want to think about. Even Snuggles has been sad. She mopes around, setting her head on my leg and giving me the worst case of puppy-eyes I’ve ever seen.

  She misses him.

  Just like me.

  The weather is as crappy outside as my mood. Even the upbeat tunes of the Backstreet Boys can’t seem to bring me out of my Saturday morning funk. Free should be here anytime, and her objective was this: largest mocha with as many espressos as she can legally add and something sweet that could induce a sugar coma. I don’t care about healthy anything this week (or the last two, if I’m being honest). When I finally feel up to it, I’ll go back to the gym. For now, I’m going to continue eating crap and drinking too much caffeine, the way my mama told me not to.

  The bell over the door chimes, pulling my attention from the super soft pajama sets I just got in. There’s no doubt these babies are going to fly off the shelves when I get them priced and on display. I glance up, expecting to see my best friend blowing through the front door like a hurricane, but it’s not Free.

  It’s Felicity.

  “Well, good morning,” she coos in her fake, ov
er-the-top voice that makes me want to stick pencils through my eardrums.

  I swallow the reply I long to give, and turn on my own sugary-sweet greeting. “Good morning.” Even though I’d rather tell her to turn right around and walk into traffic, I decide to be the bigger person here. I mean, if she’s willing to fork over a little money to outfit her next conquest, who am I to turn that profit down? “To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?”

  I literally hurts to be nice.

  “I have a date tonight, and I need something…amazing,” she replies, glancing around at the nearest displays. There’s no missing the look of disregard on her face as she glance at the soft pink nightgown on the mannequin. She quickly bypasses the timeless, breathtaking piece (the one I have at home – that Latham seemed to love so much) and hurries over to the leather and lace section. Clearly this is more her speed, not that I’d expect anything less.

  There’s also no missing the Douglas Hardware Store T-shirt she’s wearing, that she clearly found in the kids’ section of the store. Her fake boobs look like they’re going to rip the sides of the shirt at any moment.

  “We have plenty of items to fit your date night needs,” I tell her, abandoning my new pj’s and meeting her on the far side of the store.

  Felicity quickly picks up a black bra with gold edging. The cups are sheer, as is the matching thong panties. “This looks a tad cheap, doesn’t it?” she asks, her mouth in a nasty little sneer.

  “Are you referring to the undergarments or the woman potentially wearing them?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  She looks up and pops her gum, rolling her eyes so wide, there’s a good chance she just saw her brain. Felicity tosses down the bra and panties on the table, completely disregarding the outfit. She makes her way over to a red corset – the only one left in the store – and pulls it off the shelf. She fingers and plays with the material, running her hand over the cups, and essentially fondles the shit out of the bustier. “This is nice.”

  “There are matching panties too. I only have the one size left though. I could probably order something for you, if that doesn’t fit.”