Her fingers rub against my hand as silence falls between us, my pulse rapidly beating through my veins, waiting for any kind of answer.
What if she says no? I can’t imagine a life without Harper in it . . . I’ll have to keep proving to her that I’ve changed, that I’ll never leave her ever again.
Harper has always been it for me, since sixth grade. I might not have known exactly what that feeling was back then, but I knew I wanted her by my side.
Finally, she looks up at me, her eyes glassy, her lip quivering.
Fuck.
I steel myself, ready for her rejection.
But when her beautiful lips part, my heart stills in my chest. “I’m still raw from the day you broke up with me. The wound has never healed, no matter what I’ve tried, no matter how far I traveled or who I dated after you. It was still an open wound, one I think only you can sew back together.” Bringing her eyes to mine, she cups my face, her thumb rubbing over my thick whiskers. “This is terrifying, and there’s a part of me that’s screaming, No, don’t do this, but for the life of me, I can’t walk away without at least letting myself see where this goes.”
“So . . . what are you saying?” I ask, hope blooming in my chest.
“I’m saying, why don’t you ask me out on a date, and we can see where it goes from there.”
“Christ,” I whisper, feeling rather speechless. I cup the hand that’s pressed against mine. Taking a moment, I gather myself. “Harper, would you like to go out on a date with me?”
She smiles softly. “I would like that.”
As if a weight has been lifted off my chest, my lungs expand, and I take my first deep breath since the accident. It might not be a promise forever, but it’s the first step in showing her I can be the man she deserves.
I stand and pull her to her feet. “How about having that date now?”
“But we have to go over the house.”
“We can do both.” The feel of her hand in mine sends a wave of satisfaction through me. I escort her out of the den, past the entryway, and straight into the ballroom, where the fire is roaring and a little table is set up next to it, decorated with flowers, water glasses, and a charcuterie platter.
“Are you serious right now?” She eyes me suspiciously. “What if I’d said no?”
I chuckle and walk her over to the table, where I pull out the chair for her. “Then this would have been a really awkward table for one.”
I sit down as well and gesture toward the cheese and crackers. “Help yourself. I got that Boursin cheese you really like.”
“Really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?”
“Is it working?”
She spreads the cheese over a Triscuit. “Maybe a little. I haven’t had Boursin in a long time, so this gets you bonus points.”
I do a small fist pump and pick up a cracker and knife. “Starting off on the right foot.” I wince. “No pun intended.”
She startles and looks up at me, a little shocked, before a tiny chuckle pops out of her mouth. “Did you just make fun of your bad leg?”
“It’s been seven years, Harper. If I can’t joke about it now, then I really need to reevaluate things.”
She bites into her cracker and looks me up and down. “Well, it seems like you haven’t let it hold you back, given your physique.”
“Like what you see, Harp?”
“Let’s just say you’re aging well.”
“You act like we’re almost forty.”
“Well, you are older, aren’t you? All you need is a little salt and pepper mixed in with that full head of hair, and you would be irresistible.”
“What? You don’t think I’m irresistible now?”
Her eyes travel up and down my torso, pausing at my chest for longer than expected. “Ehh.”
Humor tugs at the corner of my lips. “Bullshit. Even before today, I’ve seen the way you look at me, like you want to rip my pants off and push me to the ground.”
“Push you to the ground?” She picks up a grape and pops it in her mouth. “You do realize you probably have about one hundred pounds on me, right?”
“You’ve brought me to my knees before, and I guarantee you could do it again.”
“You’re laying it on thick, Knightly.”
“I have years to make up for.” I grin but change the subject because I don’t want to come off as too needy. Even though I’m the neediest motherfucker right now. “So, ballroom, entryway with stairs, and the wraparound porch for the movie, right?”
“Yes,” she answers, morphing into business Harper. “I think I might offer them the den too now that I’ve seen it. It’s a perfect space for an office. Would that be okay?”
“Completely fine, but I’m going to need all equipment rolled on protective mats. No installing lights; they all have to be free standing, and I’m present during all shooting. I would like to be present for the other properties, but they aren’t as important as the manor.”
“I can understand that.” She picks up another cracker and spreads cheese over it. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“How did you figure out who owned the house?”
I knew this question was coming. Hell, I’ve wanted to tell her for so long, but I needed to wait until she didn’t hate my guts but was actually open to starting up something with me.
“I attempted to figure it out about a year ago. As it turns out, when you’re an adult and in real estate, you can find out that kind of thing pretty easily.”
“Why did you wait so long?”
“Well . . .” I take a sip of my water. “For one thing, I wasn’t sure what it was going to cost me to invest in the property, so I wanted to make sure I was financially ready. I knew the minute I got my hands on the manor, I’d want to turn it into the house . . .” I swallow hard. “The house we always dreamed of.”
Her eyes sparkle with emotion.
“And then I wanted to be emotionally ready for it. I didn’t want to be in a dark frame of mind, even though when I bought it last year, I wasn’t my normal self. Hell, I’m still not, but I was better and ready to face all the memories.”
“That makes sense. So how did you find out who it was and convince them to sell?”
“I looked through the database I have access to. The house was listed under a property manager up in Pottsmouth. The owner wanted to remain anonymous, so when I told the property manager I wanted to buy, I was shocked to find out the owner wanted to meet with me. And when she told me Iggy left her the house in his will, I knew right then and there she was the Forever Girl.”
“What?” Harper’s mouth drops open. “You’re telling me Iggy left the manor to his mistress? You know who the mystery girl is? You met her?”
“Yup,” I answer, a hint of cockiness to my voice.
“Well, are you going to tell me?”
I think about it for a second, my gaze floating to the ceiling. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
“What?” she exclaims, a smile on her face. “You can’t be serious. You can’t hold that kind of information from me.”
“I think I can. You have to earn it, Harp.”
“Earn it? Don’t you think putting up with your grumpy ass is earning it?”
“Nice try.” I lean back in my chair, giving her a once-over. God, she’s beautiful, especially when she’s all lit up inside; her eyes burn brighter, her smile reaches farther across her face. Absolutely gorgeous. “I will tell you this: the person I visit every Friday, that’s the mystery girl. We came up with a little deal.”
“Hold up.” Harper waves her hands. “I feel like you just dropped a bomb on me. So not only do you own Snow Vale Manor, you know who the mystery mistress is, you found out Iggy gifted the house to her when he passed, and you visit with her every Friday?” I nod. “Does that mean you know the story of why she was never with Iggy but wrote him all those letters?”
“Of course.” I grin.
“Oh my God! Rogan.” She
crosses her arms over her chest. “Even though we weren’t talking and you probably didn’t know where I was, you should have immediately tried to contact me. That is vital information, something that you could have easily told me in the midst of our silence.”
“No way. I wasn’t about to use that as a way to connect with you.”
“It would have caught my attention.”
“Not the kind of attention I would have wanted.”
She huffs. “So what kind of deal did you strike up with mystery mistress?”
Smiling, I pick up another cracker. “When I found out I was meeting up with this anonymous woman, I prepared myself, wanting to show her exactly what that house meant to me and why I wanted to buy it.” I look down at my hands. “I, uh . . . brought her pictures of us that we took when it was abandoned. I also brought the letters that were hidden under the floorboards, ready to tell her I wanted to restore the house to what it was supposed to be.”
“And then you found out for sure she was the mistress.”
“Well, I found out a lot more than that. I met her in the back of the Seaside Pantry, where they hold all those tea parties.”
“Oh, I love it there. My dad took me a few times. He was such a good sport, having tea and scones with me and my dolls, wearing a lady’s hat. Such a good man.”
I can picture it in my head: Mr. Sanders sitting there, sipping the smallest cups of tea, wearing a frilly hat and the biggest smile on his face. He would do anything for Harper, even if it meant sharing a cup of tea with a doll in a public place.
“He is a good man, one of my favorites.”
“Okay, so you were at the Seaside Pantry. Were you nervous?”
“I was sweating so fucking bad; I wanted to make a good impression. Plus, everyone knows everyone in this town and their business. I was afraid my past would be taken into consideration. Thankfully, it wasn’t. And the minute I saw who it was, my jaw hit the floor. But I knew I was in good hands. I laid it all out for her, my reasons for wanting the house, my plans for renovations, and the investment I’d be making in order to bring Snow Vale Manor back to life.”
“And what did she say?” Harper asks, now on the edge of her seat.
“She said I could have the house. Just like that.”
“Hold on.” Harper sits up straight, blinking a few times. “She just gave you the house?”
“Yeah. The only thing she asked was that I would visit her a few times, to keep her updated on the progress and to listen to any possible feedback she might have. I thought visiting her every Friday was the least I could do, and that’s what I’ve done. I’ve kept my word, and I’ve kept the house the way it was intended.”
“That’s . . . wow, that’s incredible, Rogan. I can’t believe she just gave you the house . . . but what are your plans for the house exactly? Did she approve them?”
I nod. “She did. She loves the idea of opening up the house for events, a place where the town can enjoy the manor like it was meant to be, full of laughter and good memories . . . just like the memories we made in it.”
She glances down at her hands. “And you told her everything, you know, about you and me?”
“Well, she already knew about our history given that she’s a local, but I told her about how it was our secret place away from the rest of the world. It touched her, because it was what Iggy wanted the house to be—their escape, except they never got to have it.”
“Why? What happened?”
I shake my head. “I think she should tell you that.”
Harper’s eyes widen. “I get to meet her?”
I nod. “I would love for you to meet her, even though I know you already know her.”
“Gah!” Harper clenches her fists. “This is going to kill me. I can’t believe you’re not going to tell me who it is. That’s so mean.”
“Nah, just means you’ll come back for a second date.”
“Or maybe I’m so mad at you for not telling me that I refuse.”
“You know that’s not how I work, Harper. I’m better at this game than you. I don’t have this overwhelming need to tell you who it is, but you . . . I don’t think you can go another minute without finding out.”
Her eyes cut into me. “You’re the devil, you know that? The straight-up devil.” Sighing, she leans back in her chair. “So the manor falls under MFG Realty . . .”
I shake my head at her attempt to lead me into divulging more information. “You know damn well it does.”
“And this MFG Realty . . . does it have anything to do with me?”
I run my hand through my hair. “You tell me.”
She leans forward and draws a light circle on the table with her index finger, coyly glancing up at me. “I think it does.”
“Well, you know what they say: Can’t have the girl? Then buy all the properties she ever loved.”
“Is that really what you did?”
I shrug, feeling a little embarrassed. “I can’t deny it . . . yeah, I fucking bought all the places you gushed over. It was how I could stay connected to you without hurting you.”
“That’s . . .” She lets out a long sigh. “I don’t have words for it. And the manor was the final acquisition you made to complete the list.”
I shake my head. “Nope, I still have one more, but I don’t think I could ever get it.”
“And what would that be?”
“The lighthouse.”
“You . . . you would buy the lighthouse?”
“Without a doubt. It’s where you grew up, where you spent most of your childhood. It holds more of your memories than any other place in Port Snow, and I would hate for it to ever fall into the wrong hands. Trust me, I keep my eyes on it and have spoken to your dad many times about the property.”
“Rogan . . .” She tilts her head to the side, studying me before she looks away, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Good. Very good.”
Rogan: Guess who had a date with Harper today?
Reid: Carson? I know he wanted to ask her out.
Brig: Carson and Harper? I could see it.
Griffin: Tracker was talking about asking her out the other day at the station.
Reid: Tracker asks out anything with two legs and breasts, hell, I’m pretty sure he asked out a chicken the other day.
Brig: Rumor. I asked him about the chicken date and he said it was a drunk joke.
Griffin: Yeah, he cleared that up quick, even took an ad out in the newspaper. Bestiality isn’t his thing.
Reid: So was it Carson?
Brig: I bet there is a picture on Instagram somewhere if it was.
Rogan: It was me jackasses. Fucking hell.
Brig: **SCREAMS AND FLAILS**
Reid: Was it a real date or was this a dream?
Brig: Fuck, there goes my excitement. Was it a dream?
Rogan: No! It was a date, we shared a meal, she agreed to a second. We’re fucking dating you nimrods.
Brig: **SCREAMS AND FLAILS AGAIN**
Reid: But was she conscious when you asked her?
Brig: ^^^ Valid question.
Griffin: Kind of curious to hear the answer.
Rogan: I don’t even know why I text you idiots.
“Hey, you,” I say, walking up behind Harper and wrapping my arm around her waist.
She turns in my grasp and smiles up at me. “Hey.”
“Did you order?” I nod toward the coffee bar.
“Not yet. I was waiting for you.”
I take her hand in mine and walk up toward the counter. Surprisingly, Snow Roast is pretty slow this morning, probably thanks to the freshly fallen snow from last night. Locals must be shoveling their driveways and sidewalks. Thankfully, I hire a service to do that for me.
When we reach the counter, Ruth’s eyes immediately go to our clasped hands as a slow, Grinch-like grin spreads across her face.
“Well, hello, you two,” she says, a jolt of gl
ee in her voice. “How are you this chilly morning?”
“Good,” I answer. “And you?”
“Really good now.” She presses her fingertips together. “Eeep! I’m sorry, but look at you two, all happy and holding hands. This is so exciting.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Does this mean the curse is broken for you?”
I would never admit it to anyone, but I can feel a weight slowly lifting off my chest every day Harper buries herself deeper and deeper into my life again. It might be the curse breaking, it might be in my head, but whatever it is, I feel like I’m getting another chance, and there is no way in hell I’m going to mess it up this time.
But for show, I barely contain my eye roll. “Come on, Ruth.” She smiles sheepishly, but it’s kind of endearing, her romantic heart. “We’re taking things slow,” I add, so Harper doesn’t have to feel awkward. We’re taking things really slow, as in we haven’t even kissed yet.
“Slow is good. Slow gives you a chance to get to know each other again, you know, explore things.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.
“Christ, Ruth, you’re just as bad as Brig.”
At the mention of my brother’s name, her smile falls flat, and she immediately starts to fidget. Brig’s the only one in town who doesn’t see the way Ruth looks at him. It’s obvious she has a crush on him, but being the sweet, shy girl that she is, she would never, ever make the first move. She doesn’t even talk about it when you bring up the subject. Ren asked once, and Ruth quickly dismissed the notion.
Tossing her towel over her shoulder, she taps away on the tablet in front of her. “What can I get you two this morning?”
I give our order—two breakfast croissants with bacon and black coffees—and then nod toward a table in the corner that offers some privacy. “Go snag that table for us while I finish up here.”
Harper nods and then takes off just as I turn back to Ruth. “Put it on my tab, and if you ever want to . . . talk about things that might be weighing heavily on you, I’m here.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Because every time I mention Brig’s name, a light sheen of sweat coats your upper lip.”
“What?” she asks, wiping her lip. “No it does not.”
That Forever Girl Page 26
