by Sonya Weiss
Rafferty opened the door and got in. “What happened to your car?”
Grayson turned down the radio as he waited for Rafferty to get settled. “Some guy backed into it at the hospital last night.”
“Still, you probably had a better night than I had,” Rafferty said.
Grayson slowed at the stop sign at the end of Rafferty’s street. “I heard about that.” He eased forward once the way was clear. “Please tell me you’re not guilty of going there with Harper.”
“I’m not.”
“Good. Trust me. Love isn’t worth it. You’d end up getting your heart stepped on.”
Rafferty knew that Grayson’s observation came from what he’d been through. “There’s zero chance of that.” He opened his mouth to say there wasn’t even a spark between him and Harper, but after the kiss, that didn’t ring true anymore. He closed his mouth without saying anything else.
“Good. It’s best to keep it that way,” Grayson said.
“I know. Hey—you passed the diner. Where are we going?”
“Steakhouse. I promised Grandma we’d buy her a late lunch.”
Rafferty groaned. “I was hoping to avoid her.”
“Yeah and I’d hoped for a life with Isabel. We don’t always get what we want.”
The mention of his brother’s cheating ex-girlfriend caught Rafferty’s attention. Grayson rarely talked about her. “Is she still texting you?”
“No. I blocked her number.” Grayson’s jaw tightened. “So she called from her new boyfriend’s phone.”
“That’s cold.” Rafferty had never liked Grayson’s ex. Not only had she flirted with him, but she’d also made a pass at Lincoln. They’d both shut that down, and he’d told Grayson. It’s why his brother had gone back to the apartment earlier than normal and had caught Isabel in the act.
“What bothers me about all that is she played me and I was clueless until you said something.” Grayson parked outside the steakhouse.
“Relationships are trouble. Now you know why I keep mine physical only,” Rafferty said. He stepped out of the car and was struck by the delicious scents coming from the restaurant.
“Exactly. I’m done even trying to go beyond casual.” Grayson locked the car and joined him on the sidewalk.
That didn’t surprise Rafferty. He’d seen how Isabel had destroyed his brother.
Grayson gave him a sly grin. “Since you made it clear you weren’t interested, I should ask Harper out.”
“Go ahead.” I can’t believe he’d even think that way. Rafferty’s heart rate picked up, and he clenched his fists.
“Harper’s beautiful. She has a great body. I could see having a casual thing with her.”
A shaft of irritation shot through Rafferty, and his jaw tightened. “She’s not looking for casual.”
“So? I’m sure I can persuade her to change her mind.”
Rafferty didn’t answer. Grayson wasn’t the kind of man who manipulated women, and it took Rafferty a few minutes to guess his brother was goading him, hoping for a reaction. He should have realized what Grayson was doing. His brother knew the odds of the two of them becoming a couple were as great as all of Morganville becoming anti–sweet tea.
“Ever notice Harper has mile-long legs? Everyone says she’s kind of prim, but I’ll bet I could—”
Rafferty couldn’t take it anymore. He swung around into his brother’s path, nose to nose with him. “Leave her alone.”
Grayson arched his eyebrows, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Is there a problem? I thought she wasn’t your type.”
“She’s not, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let anyone hurt her.”
“I was only picking at you.”
“Why?” Rafferty asked, taking a step back but still irritated.
Grayson laughed and slapped him on the shoulder.
“I don’t know why you have to be such an a— Mom…I didn’t know you’d be here.” Rafferty gave his brother a dark look as their mom walked over, and he greeted her with a hug.
“Your grandmother invited me to tag along. We already have a table.” She led them through the middle of the restaurant, pausing every now and then to speak to someone.
By the time they reached the table where his grandmother waited, she was already in full-on matchmaker mode.
“You couldn’t do any better than Harper,” Jean said. “She’s as sweet as a Moon Pie, as honest as the day is long, and she’s as pretty as a sunset over the ocean.”
Rafferty sighed. “Yes, she is all that. Hang on a second.” He got up and went to a smaller table not far from theirs. Albert Hollings’s brother Howie had a stroke a while back and was having trouble cutting his steak.
Pulling a chair up beside the old man, Rafferty sat down. “Here. Let me help you.”
Howie gave him a thankful smile and passed the fork and knife over.
“Essie’s got me eating a plant-based diet. I told her that food was fit for the livestock, not a man. I finally put my foot down and refused to eat it.”
Rafferty wasn’t fooled. “Slipped out of the house when she went to get her hair done, did you?”
Howie looked sheepish. “Cut faster, son. I’d like to have dessert before she shows up breathing fire.”
Rafferty finished cutting Howie’s steak and then went back to his own table, hoping the conversation had turned to other topics besides Harper. He hoped in vain.
“You should at least go out with Harper once. I think—”
“Mom, Grandma.” He held their gaze steadily. “You know I love you and you know I mean this is the nicest way possible, but you both need to butt out. Harper isn’t interested in me.” At their calculating expressions, he hastily added, “And I’m not interested in her. Now can we order?”
Everyone reached for a menu, but he could feel his mom and grandmother darting glances at him, and it was like he could read their minds. Poor Rafferty. Finally met his match.
He called bull on that. It would take a lot more than the achingly beautiful Harper to drag him into a commitment. He’d closed himself off for a good reason, and he was standing by the decision. Long live the dating king.
Chapter Eight
Harper wanted to throw her tiara after wicked stepsister #2 left the dressing room. What a drama queen! This week she was mad that her vanity table had been cleaned and, when her makeup was put back, the items weren’t arranged to her liking. Last week her chair pillow wasn’t plumped enough. Every week her tantrums grew worse.
She called it “getting into character.”
Harper called it a prelude to a firing.
She sighed, shoulders slumping, her irritation abating. Of course, she wouldn’t follow through. She couldn’t afford to lose more employees, but she also knew Ruby was a single mom with kids to feed. So she’d sucked it up, painted a smile on her face, and calmed the other woman down.
Now thanks to the tantrum, she was behind schedule and trying to get dressed while watching the clock count down the minutes. Though it was just rehearsal, she liked everyone to be completely in costume. Having that policy had helped to cut down on some of the goofing off among the high school employees. It lent a professional air to the rehearsals. She looked at the clock again.
Rafferty was still a no show. If he was thinking he’d blow off rehearsal and just ad lib his way through the show, she was going to go wicked stepsister on him herself.
She pulled the first dress, made to resemble drab brown rags and dabbed with dark spots to indicate soot, over her head and shimmied it down over her hips. Then she strapped her cell phone in the garter on her thigh in case something went wrong elsewhere on the castle grounds and she was needed. After checking to make sure her face bore traces of chimney soot, she searched for the princess gown and glass slippers she’d need for the later scenes. “Why am I always los
ing my shoes?” she asked herself.
A sharp knock sounded on her door, and she called for Ivy to come in. Except it wasn’t Ivy. It was Rafferty dressed in his prince costume.
Harper couldn’t think of a sarcastic or witty comment to utter. Apparently, Papa Ron had cut out every single scrap of extra material. The clothes fit Rafferty like he’d been melted and poured back into them.
He was clean-shaven, sexy smiling, and leaning against the doorjamb innocently like his presence didn’t make her feel as if she’d filled her mouth with a handful of taffy and her stomach with a bowling ball. Thanks to their night locked in together, when she looked at him now, she thought about how well he’d kissed her.
“I have a checklist to run through,” she said, grabbing her clipboard, grasping at anything to change her thoughts. “Give me a second.” She flipped through the pages even though it wasn’t necessary. She had every step, every line, for every character memorized. She couldn’t take a chance that something could go wrong, and she wouldn’t know how to get the situation back on track.
Rafferty whistled, pointing to the clipboard. “All those pages for one show?”
“I told you it’s a lot harder than it looks, just like I’m sure your job is a lot harder than it looks to someone on the outside.”
“Sure it is. We have a burn drill coming up. I can talk to the chief about letting you do a walk through. We’ve had a reporter do it before.”
“Oh…um…it doesn’t sound—”
“Safe?”
She huffed and put the clipboard down on her vanity then handed him a copy of the script. “You don’t have to mock me.”
“I wasn’t, I swear. I was filling in the blank before you could, that’s all.”
Tipping her chin up, she said, “I can totally do unsafe. Like you.” She blushed, hating that she did. “I didn’t mean I’d do you… I meant I can do something that’s not safe.”
“You, Harper Bailey? Do something outside her ordinary safety zone? I’d like to see that. In fact, let’s bet on it. I bet you dinner that you won’t do it.”
Of all the smug expressions… “You know what? I’ll do the burn drill.” As soon as she said it, she wanted to gasp and take it back.
“You’ll do it?” Rafferty said doubtfully.
“Yes.”
He shrugged. “Okay, I’ll set it up. Ready to go on?”
“I had my shoes and put them down…” She touched her hand to her hair to try and tuck some strands back into the kerchief while she looked around.
“Let me help.”
He was there, his hands in her hair, smoothing it back before she could gather her wits. Her stomach see-sawed and her concentration was wrecked when the back of his hand brushed against her cheek.
“Rehearsal time,” she said, clearing away the squeak that started at the beginning of her words. “Wait. My shoes.” She spun around the room, searching intently, then saw them on a stool beneath a blanket her grandmother knit for her. After gathering them, her princess dress, and picking the clipboard up again, she shooed him toward the door. “This has to be some kind of metaphor for my life.”
“What does?” Rafferty flipped through the short script as they walked together to the castle’s main room.
“Me always losing the slipper that’s supposed to change Cinderella’s life. Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me a handsome prince isn’t in the cards for me.”
“I think some guy will sweep you off your feet when you least expect it.”
“Hmph. That’s what Mom thought, and look what happened. She became a single mom, and then she ended up as a widow.”
“I know it was tough.”
Memories assailed her. “The worst I think was when we ended up losing our home to foreclosure and had to move in with my aunt Helen and Shelly. Since we no longer had a barn to keep my horse, we had to let her go, too. I haven’t been horse riding since.”
“Why not?”
“As a kid, I didn’t want to ride any horse but mine. I guess I felt disloyal and, I don’t know, I couldn’t bear the thought. Maybe I was grieving.”
“What about now?”
“Now…there’s the castle and trying to keep it afloat…and I work long hours…”
“You should take time to enjoy life, Harper. You only get one.”
“Hmm. Hold on.” She paused to talk to the Fairy Godmother, who was frantically waving a broken wand. When she finally settled that, she resumed walking with Rafferty. “Any problems understanding your role?”
“Nope. It’s blah-blah-blah dance. Shoe. Wedding. Kiss.”
Harper’s heart lurched. “Wha—”
“I’m teasing. The script is pretty good. Who wrote it?”
“My mom. We’ve tweaked it over time. Adding some things, taking away others. The show only lasts an hour and ten minutes on a good night.”
“Love in just over an hour,” he quipped.
Harper lifted one shoulder. “It’s a living.”
They took their places backstage, waiting for the first cue. Through a space between the heavy velvet curtains, Harper swept her gaze across the seats half filled with people waiting for the rehearsal to begin. Most of the rehearsal audience was made up of employees of the amusement park or employee family members.
She sent Ivy a little wave then crooked her finger at Rafferty to come closer. “Is that your family?”
He joined her, peeking through the curtain, and groaned. “Yes. I see Grandma and my mother. And there’s Grayson, too.”
Harper saw Josie slip in beside Lincoln. “You’re not nervous, are you?” she asked Rafferty.
“I’m not.” He gave her a smile. “I hope the show is a sell out for your sake.”
Harper quickly looked away, batting down the pull of attraction. The dumbest thing she would ever do would be to lower her guard and fan the flames started with the kiss they’d shared.
When the rehearsal began, Harper put any further thoughts of Rafferty from her mind. She went through each of her scenes on autopilot, showing Rafferty how to slip on- and offstage quietly and where to stand. The rehearsal went sort of smoothly. She only had to remind Rafferty of his lines once, and the time flew by until they were ready for the ball scene.
Then a thought struck her. She’d forgotten to ask Rafferty if he knew how to dance. Some men didn’t, and she hoped he wouldn’t be embarrassed when the music swelled, and he was supposed to take her in his arms and sweep her across the floor.
Harper lifted the sides of her princess gown and stepped onto the stage. Rafferty turned to look at her, and her heartbeat drummed in her ear. It was all an act, she knew that, but he stared at her like she was the only woman in the world. Then he moved, brushing by the employees acting as the stepsisters, past the actor playing the king, until he was standing right in front of her.
Slowly, he took her hand in his and bowed like the script called for.
She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and he covered it with his as they moved to the center of the stage. The beginning strands of the waltz filled the room, and they started to dance together. He led them smoothly, confidently, across the floor.
Harper feared the microphones picked up the sound of her pounding heart. She locked eyes with his. Her lungs didn’t want to expand even as she called herself all kinds of a fool. The shortest fairy tale in the world would be the one starring Rafferty as her real-life romantic interest. And what am I even thinking like that for?
The clock struck midnight, breaking the daze Harper was in. Gathering the sides of her dress, she turned and fled up the small stairs built as part of the set, taking care to make sure she left one of her slippers on a step in prominent view of the audience.
…
The shoe fit, and now it was time for the show wedding and the kiss. The next thing Rafferty knew, h
e was a faux-married prince holding his new bride. How strange that she fit into his arms like there was a space carved out just for her. He’d noticed it in the supply room but hadn’t let himself dwell on it. What if he allowed his thoughts to dwell on Harper? On the flush of her cheeks, the slow blink of her long eyelashes, the warmth of her against him… His lips parted, and he said her name in a quick exhale, as if by voicing it, he’d be free of the confusion churning his stomach.
He lowered his head, and before he made contact with her lips, Harper turned her head and the kiss landed on the side of her face. “And cut,” she called out, moving away from him so fast it was as if he’d imagined her in his arms.
Applause rippled through the room, and seconds later, they were swarmed by employees.
Rafferty’s family joined them, and he smiled while the good-natured teasing began, but his attention kept drifting back to Harper and the way she’d brushed him off.
“Make sure you let Shelly know she’s invited for Sunday dinner as well,” his mother was saying to Harper.
He saw his grandmother glance at Grayson, then Ivy, and she smiled her sly, matchmaking smile. “And Ivy, you come, too,” she piped up.
“I’d love to,” Ivy agreed.
Rafferty heard all the conversation, but it was like he wasn’t part of it. He could be coming down with something. One of the firefighters had been sick a week ago. Maybe that’s why he felt like he was trying to think through fog. When Harper excused herself from the gathering, Rafferty went after her, catching up to her in the hallway.
“Great rehearsal,” she said, speaking in a rushed, clipped voice when she noticed him. “You have a funny look on your face. What’s wrong?”
“You changed the script at the last minute. I was supposed to kiss you.”
“You did.”
“That’s how I kiss my grandmother. Not the woman I’m supposed to be in love with.”
“The kiss wasn’t necessary for the rehearsal.”
“But everyone getting in costume is?”
“Right.”
