by Emery Cross
"Yes, sir," I answered. I’d tried for sarcasm, but I came off sounding sheepish. I’d gone too far and I knew it.
I expected him to drop me off at the house and leave, but he followed me inside. Without a word he pushed me against the wall and kissed me. I kissed him back, sucking greedily on his big tongue. My anger was no match for my hunger for him. He reached up under my dress and ripped off the panties he'd insisted I put on. He brought one of my legs up to hook around his waist and then he penetrated me in a single, hard thrust. He tried to hold my gaze as he fucked me, but I shut my eyes.
I clutched his shoulders as he drove deeper, propelling me up the wall.
"Harper, dammit, look at me."
He wielded his stiff cock to get his way and I opened my eyes to find him staring at me. I saw lust in his heavy-lidded eyes, but there was also the need to control.
He started pumping into me rough and fast, one of his hands braced on the wall, the other clutching my ass, holding me still so that I would take the brunt of his thrusts. I could feel the muscles of his shoulders bunching beneath my hands. He was too deliciously much for me, my pussy spasmed around him and my head lolled forward as my climax tore through me.
His release followed almost instantly. His cock jerked inside me, his come surging warm and thick.
He set me back on my feet. I watched his broad form as he strode away down the hallway. I stayed propped against the wall for support, his come trickling down my inner thigh. That proved nothing, of course, since he now knew I was on the pill.
Wrong, it had proved something. That, despite claiming I hated him, he could have me whenever and wherever he wished.
I cleaned myself up and then managed to pull it together enough to brew some coffee and put a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster.
He'd exchanged his black pants and dress shirt for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was wet from the shower and his face was shaved clean. He plucked a piece of toast from the toaster and ate it plain. "Not sure when I'll be home."
I was still up for a fight, but I bottled it. I filled the metal travel cup with steaming black coffee and then searched for the lid in the drawer. I popped it on and turned around and handed him the cup. 'I hate you' was not going to be the last thing I said to him before sending him off.
"Is it okay to say, 'be careful'? Would that bring good or bad luck? What’s the appropriate phrase for a firefighter's wife?"
"Not sure. I've never had a wife before." His lips quirked at the corners.
"I'm being serious.”
"A couple of the guys have this superstitious thing. They never let their wives say goodbye. See you later or see you soon, but not goodbye."
Annoying tears pricked at the back of my eyes. "See you soon," I said.
He scooped his free hand around my waist, and searched my face. He was trying to figure out whether I was still angry with him. After a long moment, he dipped his head and kissed me. This time with such tenderness that my heart melted.
Would he always have the power to change my mood? To make me forgive him, no matter how much of an asshole he'd been?
All morning long, I found myself reliving our argument. Had it really been an argument? I’d done most of the yelling.
My anger returned full force thinking of how sure he'd been that he was in the right.
When he called me at noon to tell me he wouldn't be home until the next day, I hid my anger. I also didn't bother mentioning the small club concert I'd committed to before our elopement. Or that my ex was scheduled to perform.
CHAPTER 15
HARPER
MY DEFIANT STREAK ALWAYS got me into trouble and yet here I was with my bandmates the day after getting married without a word to my husband about it.
Finn's hit song came on the radio as we pulled into the parking lot.
"What a coincidence," Coco said, pointing out Finn's big black SUV taking up two spaces.
Considering that this particular song seemed to be playing nonstop on the radio lately, it really wasn't that much of a coincidence.
I glanced at his expensive vehicle as we hauled our gear through the parking lot. I recalled riding in his ancient jeep with the wind whistling through the split in the convertible top. The man was moving up fast. His success was understandable. He was a talented songwriter and he had the looks teen girls went nuts for. Handsome but vulnerable, like an underfed, brooding poet, with his blue eyes and long dark hair.
Finn was already backstage, straddling a chair with a beer can dangling from his fingers. The beer carton had been mauled open and he'd accumulated quite a pile of crushed cans by his chair. His bass player, Connor, was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him, laughing uproariously at something Finn had just said. Finn's gaze followed me as I passed and the bass player stopped laughing to direct a dirty look at me.
I remembered how nervous Finn would get before a show. How he'd vomit before going on stage. He would never dream of getting drunk before a gig. Now he looked like he couldn't give a damn. This would probably be the last small club he'd be playing at. He was just a star fulfilling a nuisance promise.
He wasn't kicking back when it came to his looks though. He was dyeing his hair darker now. It was nearly black, making the contrast between his blue eyes even more vivid. His whole look had been taken up a notch. New tattoos, leather wristbands, jeans with strategically placed holes.
I certainly did not miss being his personal stylist. When we were together, he would get downright pissy if I didn't get his pirate braids just right or I smudged too much kohl around his eyes.
I pretended to be interested in the conversation I was having with my bandmates, but I waited nervously for Finn's inevitable approach. I caught the flash of surprise in Lili's eyes and knew he was behind me. He took my arm and peeled me away from my friends.
Once he had me relatively alone in an alcove, he released me and shoved his hands into his pockets. He gave me his best mournful look. "How are you, Harper?"
I decided to jump right in, there was no point prolonging this. "Married."
Shock and hurt flashed in his eyes. "You certainly didn't waste any time."
"Guess not."
"Does he realize what he's gotten himself into?"
"Yeah, he realizes," I admitted. "He doesn't have a lot of a faith that I'm in it for the long haul."
He also thinks I'm too flighty to have his babies, and that I confuse puppy love with real love, I thought but didn't say. Did I really have the right to be offended? Here I was, this very moment, proving how unreliable I was.
"Who is it? Who's the lucky guy?" Finn asked, his voice strained.
"A friend of my brother's."
"Are you fucking serious? That square-jawed, all American getting the medal. The reason you agreed to marry me in the first place."
"The very same."
"Well, you've had a thing for him forever. Maybe he has a chance."
Someone was shouting his name.
"Gotta go," he said. He took his hands out of his pockets and reached for me. He pulled me into an embrace. "Believe it or not, I do want the best for you," he said into my hair.
"I want the same for you," I said and hugged him back.
CHAPTER 16
HARPER
FOR TWO WEEKS, WILDFIRES had ravaged the nearby hills. Rowley had been putting in loads of overtime, and I barely saw him.
Since I had no job to occupy myself with, I tried to plan my days so that I didn’t get too accustomed to a life of leisure.
Today, I made myself another pot of coffee and opened up the website for the school I'd be attending. I stopped on the page for the Contemporary Restaurant and Bakery course. There was a study trip scheduled a few weeks in advance of the semester start date. How had I missed that? I obviously hadn’t read the brief overview when I’d chosen the course.
The trip involved a week touring kitchens in Las Vegas. The itinerary was online.
It was a pretty inter
esting line-up. First stop was the culinary institute’s sister campus. The rest of the schedule was jam-packed. They would be visiting a few upscale restaurants, a casino kitchen, a chocolatier, and a bakery that supplied desserts to the local cafes. I carried over the small desktop printer, hooked it up to the laptop, and printed out the itinerary.
Bus transportation was included in the tuition, but the motel stay was not. I clicked on the link to the suggested list of motels and put a deposit down to hold my place.
I returned to the class page and opened the syllabus and made a list of the items I'd need for the basic culinary skills course.
After spending the afternoon purchasing technical books and utensils for home practice, I went shopping. I tooled around the store with my cart, taking time to read the labels on products. Just a newlywed seeing to the weekly grocery shopping, I thought, as I pushed the cart down the aisles and inspected the prices and the nutritional labels on products. I felt pleased with myself, like I’d accomplished things today.
ROWLEY FINALLY HAD a night off.
I'd never been so eager for a Saturday night in my life. I'd never expected to miss someone this much.
He'd be exhausted, no doubt, and probably too tired to notice but I’d bought a flirty dress for the occasion. And I picked up food to make one of the recipes in a book recommended by the school I'd be studying at.
I cleaned the already clean house and then sorted through the mail that had accumulated on the counter. It was mostly junk. I stopped at an envelope with a fancy gold seal, with gold embossing. He'd torn the end off, obviously not caring about the fanciness of the printing. Curious, I peeked inside to find an invitation to the Fireman's Ball. He hadn't bothered mentioning it to me. It was only a week away, the Saturday before I’d be leaving on the course trip to Vegas.
Had he RSVP’d? Maybe he didn’t think his new wife was ready for primetime.
I propped the invitation up against the bowl of fruit. Then I placed the itinerary for the Vegas field trip beside it.
I heard his truck on the drive, and bent down and took a quick peek at myself in the toaster’s reflection. I wiped away a smear of mascara under my eye and then straightened and turned to wait for him.
The screen door shut and there he was, looking gorgeous in his uniform. I loved seeing him in it, but unfortunately I’d come to realize that when he wore it home it usually meant he would be returning to work. I was so disappointed I wanted to cry.
I caught the glint of the platinum band on his left hand as he stepped into the kitchen. My heart swelled at the sight. It had been his choice. He’d insisted on wearing one. I knew he took it off at work for safety reasons, but he always put it on before stepping into the house.
"Can only stay a couple of hours," he said.
He walked over to me and pulled the oven mitt from my left hand. He was actually checking to see that I was still wearing my ring.
On the way out of the kitchen, he picked up the invitation I'd propped so conspicuously against the fruit bowl then set it back down without saying a word about it.
He hadn’t even glanced at the itinerary so I used a magnet to stick it onto the fridge so he couldn’t miss it the next time he was home long enough to grab a beer. I didn’t want it to be a surprise. I knew Rowley would not appreciate me going on a trip so quickly after our marriage. I wondered if he would ever be okay with it, actually. How many years would I have to be a devoted wife before he would stop worrying?
He scanned the front room before striding through the hallway toward the bedroom. I followed him.
He slid open my side of the closet. He wasn't being the least bit subtle. He was taking inventory, checking to see that my clothes were still hanging there. Don't make a fuss. Let him do it if it makes him feel more secure.
He moved to the dresser and pulled out the top drawer on my side. Finding it full, he closed it and began unbuttoning his shirt.
"Take a shower with me."
I was all dressed and made up. It had taken me a good half hour just to curl my hair and pin it up with rhinestone clips, not to mention the eyeliner I'd taken pains to put on precisely. But he gave me that look like no wasn't really an option.
His shirt was gaping and I wanted to nuzzle against his naked powerful chest. "Let me just turn the oven down."
I ATE DINNER WITH WET hair wearing only a t-shirt and panties. The casserole had not gotten better with time.
"This is great," he said as if he sensed me waiting for a compliment. He was eating it by the hefty forkfuls but I wasn't sure he was really tasting it.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and rose from the table. "Got to go." He kissed the top of my wet head, grabbed his truck keys and was out the back door.
A few seconds later he ducked back inside. "Almost forgot. You need to get a dress for that." He motioned toward the invitation.
"You're inviting me?"
He looked at me like I was nuts.
"I don't need to ask you. You're my wife. Baby, you go where I go."
My caveman husband then slapped his credit card down on the table before leaving.
CHAPTER 17
HARPER
I’D BOUGHT A CHAMPAGNE chiffon silk dress with beading on the bodice, and a pair of sexy, open-toed stilettos. I’d been pretty pleased with my purchases considering the short notice.
I wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. I was determined to wow my husband and that meant seeing professionals for my nails and hair.
I hadn’t managed to get an appointment for both a manicure and a pedicure at this late date, but I had found a place that took walk-ins for manicures. I would just have to do my own toenails.
The nail salon was bustling. I wondered how many women there were going to be at the event tonight. Or maybe it was always this busy.
I took a seat at the long table. Clients were dressed in a mix of styles, from sweatpants and cutoffs to business suits and floral dresses, while the manicurists were all outfitted in purple shirts and white slacks.
The manicurist I sat across from sported purple daisy earrings to match her uniform.
According to the nametag sewn onto her shirt, her name was Suze. I wasn’t sure about the etiquette since I’d never had my nails done by a professional before, but I took a chance and introduced myself.
She smiled and said, “Hello.”
So far, so good. “I’d like a color that would complement a champagne-colored gown. So if you could suggest a shade.”
She quickly selected a few colors.
I chose the polish that was a shade or two paler than my dress. I was trying for equal parts sexy and sophisticated.
There was some disturbance down the line, a client insisting on switching seats. The older woman, who’d been sitting next to me, muttered under her breath in complaint as she got up and moved a couple of seats down. Someone quickly took her chair, the fussy client, I assumed.
I glanced over. Kat Ainsworth was staring at me, her pale gray eyes lit up with malice. I fought a shudder. She pushed her phone the few inches along the table toward me.
It took me a moment to realize who the couple was on the screen.
My heart started pumping fast. It was Finn and me at the concert. I blinked hoping to clear my vision, praying my mind was playing tricks. But we were still there on the phone screen, still hugging. And somehow the hug looked so much less innocent taken at this angle. He was clutching me tightly, my blouse bunched between his fingers. And I was standing on tiptoes as if I were begging for a kiss when all I'd been doing was stroking his face as he'd teared up. I shoved the phone back at her.
Through the pulse thumping in my ears, I heard Kat’s strident tone as she told the manicurist exactly what she wanted. She was making a distinction between crimson and scarlet, and insisting on crimson.
"Harper,” she said sharply, swinging her face back to me. “You don't get to swoop in and take what's mine without repercussions. Rowley may not be the jealous type, but he
won’t be able to ignore this level of disrespect."
Not the jealous type? She knew a far different Rowley Ford than I did.
"You had me followed."
She frowned a little, in a false play-acting way. Her emotional development seemed to have been arrested at the high school stage. "For the money I paid him, he should have gotten a better angle. Unfortunately, you can't see much of your face. But that long, pale blonde hair is unmistakable."
“Rowley already knows everything about that concert,” I said. Once my anger and defiance had cooled about our contentious wedding night, I’d considered telling him about meeting with Finn. But I’d made the decision to keep it a secret. I’d figured there was no point poking the bear. God, how I wished I hadn’t been such a coward.
“That is so clearly a lie,” she said.
She turned her face from me suddenly and directed that malevolent stare at the manicurist. “I told you to leave my fucking cuticles alone,” she said, with a voice that could cut glass.
Heads turned her way, but she seemed oblivious.
“I think the tabloids will pay plenty for this, don’t you?” She was speaking to me again. “I can just see the headline: Newest Rock Sensation, Finn Newton, Reunites with His Wife, or maybe: Wife Cheats on Her Brave Firefighter Husband with Her Sleazy Rock Star Ex.”
“Finn isn’t a big enough star to interest the tabloids,” I said, my brave words undermined by the trembling in my voice. “He’s certainly not front cover material, and besides, my husband doesn’t read tabloids.”
“Perhaps you’re right. Then the picture will just have to speak for itself.” Her lips curled into a vicious smile. "Or you could just leave him. If you do, I promise to delete this." She waved the phone in my direction. "He'll never know what a slut he married."
I glanced in embarrassment at Suze, and she quickly dropped her gaze, refocusing her attention on my nails.
