That Forever Girl

by Quinn, Meghan

  Chuckling, I take the coffee cups from her. “It doesn’t, but glad to see where you stand. Talk about my love life, and I’ll talk about yours, Ruth.”

  I give her a playful wink and head toward Harper as Ruth calls out, “I have no love life.”

  If only Brig weren’t so dense.

  Sitting cross-legged in a pair of gray yoga pants and snow boots, Harper looks like a sexy snow bunny ready to take on the slopes.

  “You look hot,” I say, taking a seat across from her. I hold out her coffee, which she takes, pulling off the lid to let the steam out.

  “Hot as in good looking?”

  I lean forward. “As in taking things slow is going to be extremely painful for me.”

  “You’ll survive.” She blows on her coffee. “So I told my dad about us last night.”

  Oh hell, I hope it went well. I’m not sure I could take a breakup in this coffeehouse right now.

  “Yeah? What did he say?”

  She sets her coffee on the table. “Oh, you know, the basic things like, He’s a dear friend, but I’ll cut off his ding-dong if he hurts you again. And I believe him. Mr. Sanders may be a loveable and sweet man, but he means business when it comes to his promises. And his daughter.”

  “Understandable.”

  Her features soften as she smiles. “He also said he was really happy for us, happy that we were able to work things out. He likes you, always has, and hated to see us apart.”

  “So did my parents,” I admit. “My mom cried for a while when I came home and told her that I ended things with you. For like two weeks, every time she saw me, she would cry. It was as if she was mourning the relationship.”

  “You know what they say: breakups are always hardest on the families.”

  “I believe that. Jen didn’t talk to me for months. She always thought you were too good for me. She was right.”

  “She was,” Harper agrees, smiling.

  “I see how it’s going to be.” I playfully roll my eyes as Ruth brings us our sandwiches and gives a curt smile before returning to the counter.

  Harper leans forward conspiratorially. “So what was with Ruth when you mentioned Brig’s name? Does she like him?”

  “I think so, but she would never say anything, and Brig is too blind to even notice.”

  “They would be so cute together. The coffeehouse owner and the mechanic. It’s so sweet.”

  “Yeah, Brig would have to figure it out first.”

  “Why don’t you suggest it?” Harper asks, taking a bite of her sandwich. “It’s unlike you Knightlys to stay out of each other’s business.”

  “Because you have to handle Brig differently. The more you put in his head, the grander he makes it. He needs to figure things out for himself. He’s a romanticizer, and I would hate to plant the bug in his head only to have him blow it out of proportion. That would just hurt Ruth in the long run.”

  “Oh, that makes sense.” She sighs. “Poor Ruth.”

  “I’m sure it’ll work out.” I nudge her foot with mine. “On a different note, when do I get to lock down that second date?”

  “Isn’t that what this is? Coffee and breakfast in the morning?”

  I scoff. “Harper, we’re older now. I don’t have to rely on cheap dates to impress you.”

  “But the cheap dates are the best,” she counters with a wicked grin. “Some of our best moments were spent on the old floorboards of an abandoned house.”

  “And it’s time to make some new ones, don’t you think? If we’re going to date again, I think we need to move on from the past.”

  “But I love the past. I was happiest in the past,” she says quietly, staring down at her sandwich.

  Happiest in the past. Hell, so was I, but the past also contains all my pain. I can’t be the professional football star I always dreamed of, and I can’t take back all the hurtful things I said to Harper. It’s why I want to move on, start anew.

  So why is she so reluctant?

  Why are you really here, Harper? What made you come home?

  The questions are on the tip of my tongue. I desperately want to know what happened. What could she possibly be hiding?

  But I don’t want to push her, not right away. I have time for that. Right now, I need to gain her trust.

  “I was happy too, Harp. But think about all the new memories we can create. Let me show you. Come to my house on Friday.”

  She perks up a little. “Ooh, I get to see the elusive Elbert Elms Cottage?”

  “Yeah, and you can sit at the bar in the kitchen, drinking wine while I cook you dinner.”

  Her brows rise. “Wine and cooking. I guess we’re older now, huh?”

  “We are, but we’ll always have sixth grade.”

  A smirk replaces her worried brow. “We will always have that.”

  “So . . . date night, this Friday?”

  “What about mystery mistress? Are you still going to visit her, maybe take me along with you?”

  “Nice try.” I grin. “Not yet. I think I need to win you over a little bit more. I’ll visit her first and then have you over.”

  “I’m not the one you need to worry about walking away,” she says with a pointed look in my direction.

  I know she’s being playful, but I glimpse the insecurity in her eyes. “Don’t worry, Harp. Walking away from you is not an option.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  HARPER

  “How’s it going?” Rogan’s deep, smooth voice travels over my skin, igniting my body.

  From over my shoulder, I spot that devastating smile surrounded by the perfect amount of scruff and strong, firm jaw.

  “Hey,” I whisper. “It seems like everything is going well.” Filming started yesterday, and the production crew couldn’t be happier with the choice of locations, especially the Harbor Walk House, which is where we are today, working on the scene when Chris, our hero, reflects on the importance of his dad’s candy shop. I was caught off guard when I received the schedule and saw they film everything out of order. So now I’m really interested to see how all of this is going to come together.

  “No problems with the renters?” he asks.

  “Nope, they were more than accommodating and put all their stuff away before shooting.”

  “Good.” From behind his back, Rogan hands me a 3 Musketeers bar. “For when you need a sugar fix. I know you; when your blood sugar gets low, you become a beast.”

  “I do not.”

  “No?” He lifts a rakish eyebrow. “How about that time you screamed at me in my truck over braking for a butterfly? You repeatedly told me I was going to hell for not stopping and then proceeded to hysterically cry until I got a doughnut inside you.”

  Yikes, he got me there. I remember that afternoon vividly. I was so concerned for the butterfly and horrified that Rogan didn’t stop the truck in the middle of the road. It wasn’t until I consumed the doughnut did I realize how ridiculous I was.

  “Okay, one time.”

  He chuckles into my ear and kisses my cheek. “I have a meeting I have to run to; keep an eye on everything for me?”

  “Do you really think my allegiance lies with you?”

  “It damn well better,” he whispers into my ear. A thrill shoots up my spine when his lips brush against my cheek, the subtle scratch of his scruff igniting a burned-out flame deep in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll call you later, Harp.”

  With a squeeze of my arm, he takes off. I tell myself to keep my eyes trained forward, to not look over my shoulder and watch him walk away. But for the life of me, I can’t obey.

  Turning just enough, I catch the strong gait in his every step, confident, without a hint of vulnerability. Head tilted down, he types something on his phone before pocketing it and making it the rest of the way down the Harbor Walk.

  Inwardly I sigh as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Smiling to myself, I pull it out; Rogan’s name flashes across the screen.

  Of course he’s texting me.

/>   Rogan: Deny it all you want, but I know you were just checking me out as I was walking away. I’d be doing the same thing to you. Have a good day, Harp.

  I’m in trouble. I can feel it in my bones. He’s way more smooth, more alpha, more consuming than ever before, which is going to make it that much harder to keep myself from falling too fast.

  “Did Mr. Knightly take off?” Sally asks quietly, coming up next to me.

  I quickly pocket my phone so she doesn’t think I’m not paying attention to the scene unfolding in front of us. “He did. He said he has a meeting, just stopped in to make sure the tenants were able to vacate.”

  A knowing smile passes over Sally’s lips as she gives me a once-over. “I think he came over for more than just that.”

  Heat blazes through my cheeks.

  “It’s sweet, the way he looks at you, as if you’re the only woman he’s ever wanted. Is there history with you two?”

  “You could say that.” I sigh; there’s no use in hiding it. If she sticks around long enough, she’ll hear all about it from the gossip train. “Rogan and I have a long history.”

  “Does it have to do with the broken-love curse?” Sally asks, hope in her voice.

  I chuckle. “Town gossip got to you already, huh?”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s just so fascinating. Four brothers get cursed in New Orleans . . . it’s like a Lovemark movie waiting to be made.”

  “Honestly, I feel like our love story could easily be a Lovemark movie.”

  “Really?” Sally asks. “Do tell.”

  “It checks all the boxes. High school sweethearts, small-town romance with quirky side characters, a bit of a mystery, with a whole lot of heartache. Oh, and don’t forget a classic second-chance romance. Maybe a little enemies to lovers snuck in there.”

  Sally chuckles. “Well, you’ve done your research, haven’t you?”

  “No research required. I’ve been watching Lovemark movies for as long as I can remember. I just never expected my life to become one.”

  Sally leans in. “It happens to the best of us, but that’s what makes the journey so exciting, right? Life would be boring without the twists and turns you find in a Lovemark movie. Enjoy the ride, Harper; finding your soul mate is worth it.” She gives my arm a small pat and then walks over to Elizabeth, who’s hovering over a little TV screen.

  Enjoy the ride.

  Easy to say when it’s not your heart taking the plunge, though I have to give her credit. The ride might very well be worth it.

  “Harper, can I speak with you for a second?” Carl whispers, gesturing to me.

  “Sure thing.” I set down my clipboard and walk over to where he’s sitting in a director’s chair, bent over a tablet. “What can I help you with?”

  “You lived in Vermont, right?”

  “Yes, and I’ve explored basically the whole state, not that it’s very big.”

  Tapping on his tablet, he finally looks up at me, worry etched in his eyes. “We’re looking at filming locations up there for our next movie, and for the life of me I can’t seem to find a good farm near Burlington—nothing that fits our needs. Would you happen to know of any farms? I know it’s a random question, but I thought I would ask.”

  “You came to the right person.” I smile. I’ve spent some time in the countryside. “What kind of place are you looking for?”

  “White farmhouse with a wraparound porch, old barn, white picket fence, horses . . . you know, the Lovemark works.”

  I chuckle. “I know exactly what you’re talking about. Okay, let’s see . . . there’s an apple farm south of Burlington that’s beyond picturesque and borders Lake Champlain. The farmhouse is on the larger size, but the grounds and the barn are spectacular. I spent a few weekends there just soaking up the grounds. Love it there.”

  “Sounds perfect. Does it have a name?”

  “Yup, Hallbrook Farm. They have a website, and I believe they’ve had a filming crew there before, so they should be open to having you on their property.”

  Carl pumps his fist at his side and starts typing away on his tablet again, pulling up the website. “You’re a lifesaver, Harper. Thank you so much.”

  “Of course,” I answer, a smile on my face.

  I helped.

  When was the last time I actually felt like I helped someone, other than pointing them toward the next tour boat? I glance around. Smiles on the crews’ faces, a few locals milling about, watching as the actors tell a story. This is fun, new, and exciting. Not what I thought I would be doing as a career, but it’s breathing life into my lungs, and for the first time, I’m doing it all on my own.

  “What are you going to wear?” Eve asks as she leans against the bar top. “Are you going sexy? You know, showing him what he’s been missing, or are you going ultraconservative, making him work to peel the turtleneck off you?”

  I swirl the straw in my Diet Coke, hunched over the bar after a really long day on set. Let’s just say I didn’t wear the right shoes, and now my feet are killing me. It was my second day on the job, so you’d think I would have learned, but nope, I wanted to dress to impress, which meant a pair of black trousers, a wool coat, and a beautiful pair of high-heeled boots.

  You can see where I went wrong.

  Tomorrow, though, I’m going to change things up, show up on set like the rest of the crew in a pair of jeans and a puffy vest. They have the right idea.

  I just need to find a puffy vest.

  “Do you have one of those puffy vests? You know, that people wear all the time and don’t really make sense to me. Why wear a vest in the winter? Don’t your arms get cold? What’s the point?”

  “You’re going to wear a vest on your date? That’s . . . new, but it could work, you know, like, Check out my arms, but you can’t see the goods.”

  “Not for my date.” I giggle. “For work. Everyone seems to be wearing them, but I don’t understand why.”

  “Ahh, it’s because a puffy vest is very functional for the working person who needs to stay warm.” She holds her arms out to the side. “You see, with your arms free from a baggy sweatshirt, you’re able to fully function, but the vest around your midsection keeps you extra toasty.”

  “I guess that makes sense. Warmth without restriction.”

  “Exactly. And yes, I do have a puffy vest you can borrow. It’s purple.”

  “I don’t care what color it is, as long as it keeps me warm on set.”

  An order comes into the bar, and Eve gets to work, pulling out a shaker and some vodka. “Now that the puffy-vest situation is settled, are you going to tell me what you plan on wearing on your date?”

  “Yeah, what are you going to wear?”

  Startled, I spin around on my stool to find Rogan standing behind me, Reid at his side. Both have their hands in their jeans pockets, both looking beyond handsome.

  “You have to stop scaring me like that. I’m bound to whack you in the nuts one of these days.”

  He wraps his arm around my shoulders and gives me a good squeeze, placing a kiss on my head. “Good to see you too, Harp.”

  Reid takes a seat at the bar and holds up his fingers. “Barkeep, two fingers of your finest whiskey, and when I say two fingers, I mean five.”

  “Do you really think I’m going to give you five for the price of two? Get real, Knightly.”

  “Hey, I’ll be reasonable.” He holds his hand up. “I’ll take two fingers for the price of free.”

  “Jesus,” Rogan groans. “Give him whatever and I’ll pay for it.”

  Reid elbows me, grinning. “Works like a charm every time.”

  Some people never change.

  Ignoring his brother, Rogan tugs on my hand. “So what were you planning on wearing?”

  “Like I’m going to tell you,” I scoff and take a sip of my drink. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t show up wearing a chastity belt.”

  “Oh, that’s sexy. I would wear that,” Reid says. “Actually, Rogan once told me he rea
lly likes when women wear lots of layers. Like pants upon pants upon pants.” Reid stacks his hands on top of each other to illustrate. “Layer them up. The harder to see your figure, the better. He likes to leave everything to the imagination.”

  “You haven’t changed one bit, have you, Reid?”

  “Nope.” He takes his drink from Eve.

  “That’s why he’s still single,” Eve says.

  After one long gulp, Reid says, “No, I’m still single because we’re cursed. Isn’t that right, bro?”

  “Can you not right now? Why did you even come along?”

  He shrugs. “Not sure. I guess trying to meet this month’s quota of annoying you, plus I thought it would be nice to see my old friends Harper and Eve.”

  I like Reid, but I don’t think I would consider him a friend, more like . . . well, Rogan’s annoying little brother.

  “I could have done without the visit,” Eve says.

  “Why? Because you don’t want me staring at your ass the whole time?”

  “No, I don’t mind that, nor do I mind looking at you. But what I do mind is when you open your mouth.”

  “Can’t help that, sweetheart.” He winks and downs the rest of his drink. Looks like it’s going to be a short night for Reid.

  I turn back toward Rogan. “We know why Reid came here. Why did you?”

  “Trying to catch a little bit more time with you. Wanted to see how day two was on the job.”

  “Great but exhausting.”

  “She was wearing the wrong shoes,” Eve cuts in.

  Rogan glances down at my feet, which are now encased in plush moccasins; I couldn’t bear to put on anything else. “What were you wearing?”

  “Heels.” I wince, my feet throbbing even thinking about it. “Huge mistake, but I have things all planned out for tomorrow. I’m borrowing Eve’s puffy vest.”

  “God, I love a good puffy vest,” Reid says. “There’s nothing like warm goose down that doesn’t restrict your arms.”

  “That’s what Eve said too.”

  Reid lifts a curious brow in her direction. “Is that right? Look at us, a match made in heaven.”

  “Get real, Reid. Just because you’re my twin brother’s best friend doesn’t mean we’re friends.” Eve’s twin brother, Eric, has been Reid’s best friend since grade school. They stirred up a lot of mischief around town when they were younger, always tormenting the elders . . . and Eve.