“He’s very nice,” she said diplomatically, her fingers sliding along his shoulder, down the length of his right arm. “You should tell me about your tattoos.”
“What about them?” The first one had been a moment of rebellion. The rush of pain he got when the needle was on his skin soon became an addiction. Plus, a few of his previous supervisors hadn’t approved of them, which had only spurred him on to get more. When he first visited his parents upon returning to Wildwood, his dad nearly had a shit fit when he saw them.
Made West want to go out and get more, which was ridiculous. Something about his father’s constant nagging and disapproval made him want to rebel. He’d always wanted to rebel. Causing trouble was the name of the game for so damn long, he’d had a hard time pushing himself out of the role.
“Some of them are unusual. Like, I understand why you got this one.” Her fingers skimmed the flames on his bicep. “But why the others? Like this one?” She touched the center of a rose, tracing the delicate flowers.
He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn’t easier with Harper after all? Old habits were hard to break. He wasn’t one to explain his actions or choices. “I thought it looked cool.” She smiled but said nothing, making him curious. “What?”
“I thought there would be some epic reason for your ink.” She lifted her head so their gazes met. “Maybe some girl broke your heart.”
He chuckled. “Hell no.”
She nudged his chest with two fingers. “No girl has ever broken your heart?”
“You looking for information, Harper?” he teased. At her solemn expression he turned serious too. “No. I’ve never put my heart on the line so it’s never had a chance to be broken.”
“Oh.”
West slipped his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face up. He didn’t like that sad little “oh.” Why, he wasn’t sure. What did it matter?
Harper actually matters to you, that’s why. You like her. You’ve known her a long time. She deserves respect, not just a quick fuck.
“Putting myself out there isn’t always easy for me,” he said. “I’m not a fan of rejection. I’ve also had too much happening in my life, mostly with work. I wasn’t ready for a relationship.” Yet.
West frowned.
Harper actually snorted. “Okay. Whatever.”
He tried his best not to get irritated, but . . . shit. It was the truth. “Hey. It’s a valid reason.”
“I guess.” She sent him a skeptical look. “I think sometimes people are just scared.”
“Scared of what?” He frowned down at her.
“Commitment. Love.” Her smile went a little dreamy, making her extremely dangerous.
That was the look of a woman who had no fear whatsoever of either. Usually those types of women were his darkest nightmare.
But when it came to Harper, he might be willing to change his mind.
Chapter Thirteen
HARPER WAS AT the Bigfoot Diner, cleaning out yet another filing cabinet drawer and wondering what sort of excuse she could come up with to bail out of this place early when she heard a familiar voice.
“Girls only tonight.”
Harper opened her mouth, fully prepared to protest, but Delilah cut her off.
“No arguing, it’s happening. Wren and I will come pick you up tonight at your grandma’s. Wear your sparkliest top and your tightest jeans.”
Harper frowned, leaning back in her grandma’s old office chair and making it squeak. “But I don’t have any sparkly tops.”
Delilah waved her hand, an irritated scowl on her face. She stood in the open doorway of the BFD office, wearing a tiny pair of black booty shorts and a hot pink bra top, her long hair pulled up into a perfect bun. In other words, Delilah looked pretty amazing. She must’ve just finished with a dance class. “Whatever. Wear something cute. No, make that something sexy. We’re going to that new bar-restaurant place out by the lake.”
“What new restaurant?” Oh, wait. Delilah was talking about that one place, the two-story building with the bar on the top floor and the restaurant on the bottom. It had recently come under new ownership and they’d spent the entire winter remodeling it. They’d had their grand reopening just last week. “I shouldn’t go there,” Harper said before Delilah could say anything else. “They’re the enemy.”
“Please. They’re trying to pull in a totally different crowd and you know it.” Delilah rested her hands on her hips, emphasizing just how slender she was, making Harper more than a little bit jealous. “Think of it this way—you could totally spy on them and report back to your grandma. All while picking up hot single men.”
Harper made a face. Picking up supposedly hot single men was the last thing she wanted to do. She already had one. Sort of. It had been days since she’d seen West. Tate’s engine was still on that fire up near Sacramento and they’d left almost a week ago, which meant that West still hadn’t gotten a day off. And he went out on every single call that the Wildwood station received. The other station on the outskirts of town where Holden worked was down an engine too. In other words, West was really busy.
She missed him. A lot. And now here was Delilah, who knew full well she had a thing—what else could she call it?—with West, trying to get her to go out on a manhunt?
It made no sense.
“I don’t want to pick up hot single men,” Harper said, watching as Delilah stepped into the office and shut the door behind her. Good, privacy so she could say what was really holding her up. “I’m sort of seeing West, remember?”
“It’s that sort of seeing him line that makes me question it.” Delilah flopped down in the chair on the other side of the desk. “We should just forget those Gallagher men ever existed, I swear. They’re so stupid they couldn’t see the truth if it came up and smacked them in the face.”
Uh-oh. “What’s going on?” Harper asked gently. Yeah, she hadn’t seen West in a few days and that was frustrating, but at least she knew they were on the same page.
Well. She was fairly certain they were on the same page.
Were they?
God, she hated feeling so doubtful. She didn’t want anything serious and she believed West felt the same way. But then she’d catch herself thinking . . . commitment-type thoughts. And those were pointless so she’d banish them.
Only to have them come back full force when West texted her something sweet or when he sent her a photo of the cat he rescued from a tree. That had happened earlier today, the pretty tabby cat looking ready to leap out of his arms as West grinned for the camera.
Yeah. He didn’t make things easy, not that she was surprised. She always knew West was the best kind of complicated.
“Lane.” Delilah blew out a harsh breath and rolled her eyes. She said his name like it was a bad word. “He came by the studio earlier.”
“Okay. And?” Harper prodded.
“And I was all alone. I had a half-hour lunch break before the next class came and for some weird reason, no one else was in the studio. Trust me, that never happens. There are always girls hanging around.” Delilah slowly shook her head. “So we started flirting. I told him he should bring me lunch next time he stopped by and he said he didn’t know what I liked.”
Well, that didn’t sound so awful to Harper.
“And then I told him he knew exactly what I liked.” Delilah sent her a pointed look. “He played dumb and told me he had no idea what I was talking about.”
“Maybe he didn’t?” Harper suggested. “Sometimes men are completely clueless.” And that was the God’s honest truth.
“Trust me, he knew. He had to know I was referring to him! If not, he’s an idiot. I swear to God, he acts like I terrify him most of the time.” The disgust in Delilah’s voice was clear.
“I think you might,” Harper said, making Delilah laugh. “I’m serious. Poor guy probably didn’t know what hit him, what with you coming at him strong.”
“I don’t know why he has to act like we can’t
even flirt with each other. He’s always hands-off, all the time,” Delilah said irritably. “I’m giving up on him, I swear. Tonight, we’re going out and having fun and meeting new guys. Wren is in. I talked to her on the way here.”
“But what about—”
“No buts. No protests. I don’t care if you’re banging West, you’re coming out with us tonight.” Delilah stood. “Besides, who knows how long this thing will last. They don’t know the meaning of the word commitment.”
Harper couldn’t get over how casually Delilah had said she was banging West, like it was no big deal. It was a huge deal to her. She didn’t just bang guys. She’d had a thing for West for years.
But if she was being truthful, that’s exactly what she was doing. Banging West. Not that they’d done much banging, what with him being stuck at the station working overtime.
“Hey, don’t project your issues with Lane onto my relationship with West,” Harper said, tempted to wag her finger at her friend. Seriously, the last thing she needed was Delilah putting doubts in her head. She was pretty good at that on her own.
“You’re right; I’m sorry.” Delilah shrugged, not looking very sorry at all. “I’m sexually frustrated. It tends to make me snippy. And overdramatic.”
“No kidding,” Harper muttered. “When did you want to meet tonight?”
“I’ll swing by and pick you up around seven? Is that good?”
“Perfect.”
The moment Delilah walked out, Harper’s phone started to ring, which was unusual. Pretty much everyone who needed to talk to her texted first, including her mom. It was so much easier that way.
But when she saw who was calling her, she answered immediately. “Hey, you.”
“Hi. I wanted to hear your voice.” West’s deep, sexy voice made her smile. And shiver. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Where are you?” Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get your hopes up.
“Still at the station. About ready to tear my hair out. I’m so anxious to get out of here.”
Her hopes crashed to the ground in a tangled heap of disappointment. “That sucks.”
“Yeah, but I have good news. Maybe.” He paused. “Rumor has it that Tate and his crew might be on their way back to the station today. They’ll need a few days off, but another engine from a nearby station is coming over to give all of us some reprieve.”
“No way,” Harper breathed, excitement building inside her. She wanted to see him so bad she could hardly stand it. “That’s great news.”
“I know. I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. Even if it really isn’t my own bed.” He took a deep breath. “Used to be yours, right?”
“Right,” she admitted softly, glancing up at the open doorway to double-check that no one was around. She turned the chair around so her back faced the open door. “You like sleeping in my old bed?”
“Definitely. But I’d prefer it if you were sleeping with me,” he admitted in a growly whisper that filled her brain with all sorts of interesting images. “Not that we’d get much sleep.”
Her heart fluttered. “Are you off tonight?” Delilah would kill her if she canceled on them, but she’d eventually understand. After all, Harper was sexually frustrated too.
One taste of West wasn’t nearly enough. He made her greedy. She wanted more.
More sex. With West. That was it. Not a relationship, nothing serious. Just free and easy. That was all she wanted.
Right?
Harper frowned. Why did she feel like she was constantly arguing with herself?
“That’s the problem. I have no idea when I’m off, or if this is really going to happen tonight. I just wanted to keep you posted, let you know what’s going on,” he explained.
She clutched the phone closer to her ear. “I’m glad you did. Thank you for calling.”
They chatted for the next few minutes, mostly about stuff that had been happening since they saw each other last. Harper didn’t have much—cleaning out a messy office wasn’t that exciting. So she let West talk, absorbing all of his stories, her frown deepening the more he said.
He’d gone on some dangerous calls, something she’d never really thought about before. But he put his life at risk to help others and that gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.
“I’ve missed you,” he finally admitted, his voice gruff. Like he didn’t want to say it but had to anyway.
“I’ve missed you too.” She smiled and her heart squeezed. She told herself to settle down. Feeling all swoony over West wasn’t smart. Delilah was right. How serious could those Gallagher brothers ever really be? They didn’t do relationships. “Call or text me when you know what’s going on, okay?”
“I will.”
“Be safe.” She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat, thinking again of all the dangerous things West faced on a daily basis. If they ever were to become serious, would she be able to handle it? Knowing that he put himself on the line every single day? That maybe . . . oh, God . . . he wouldn’t come home one day?
A shudder moved through her at the horrible thought.
“You too, baby,” he murmured.
Her belly was warm long after she ended the call with West. He’d called her baby. Like maybe she did mean something to him, which was probably ridiculous on her part yet . . . She couldn’t help but think that way. They’d always had a connection. Now that they’d finally acted on that connection, maybe they really could make it work.
Or maybe they couldn’t.
Frowning, she tossed her phone in her purse and tried her best to focus on anything but West while she dug back into a file folder of receipts from 2009.
But there she was. Still feeling all swoony over West Gallagher. Probably going to end up being the biggest regret of her life. But she was going to try her best to enjoy every single minute of it.
“OH MY GOD, how many people are in this place?” Harper glanced around as they stood at the top of the stairs, surprised to see how crowded the small bar area was. She spotted a few familiar faces, but mostly it was filled with tourists, beer bottles in hands and giant smiles stretching their mouths wide. They were all dressed casually, many of them looking as if they had just come off the lake, their faces shiny with sunburns, their hair windblown.
Harper felt distinctly overdressed in her floaty white top, cropped jeans, and sandals, and she’d worried she was dressed too casually. Ha. Better that she was out and not sitting at home moping after West confirmed he wasn’t able to get off work tonight. Thank goodness she had alternate plans. A night alone with ice cream and her laptop didn’t sound like much fun.
Loud music played, the bass throbbing, making it hard to hear. Delilah leaned in close, yelling in Harper’s ear, “Look at all the good-looking guys in here!”
Wren somehow heard her over the music. “Yeah there are,” she agreed with a smile. “This place is crawling with them!”
Harper nodded, hoping she looked enthusiastic, though all she saw were average-looking guys, more than a few of them studying the three women with interest.
The reality? She so didn’t want to be here. But what was the option? Sitting at home alone waiting for West to call or going out with her friends, nursing the same drink all night and watching while they got their flirt on with tourists they’d never see again?
Plus, she needed to fake it for Wren’s benefit. She still hadn’t told her best friend in the entire world that she was, as Delilah had so thoughtfully put it earlier, banging her brother. She didn’t know how to tell her without making what she and West were doing sound sordid and sneaky.
“Let’s dance!” Delilah yelled as she dragged them onto the dance floor. Delilah started to move to the music, her movements fluid and natural, immediately making Harper feel inadequate. She knew she wasn’t a crap dancer, but compared with Delilah? Forget it.
Wren kept up with Delilah, earning them more appreciative glances from the few men on the tiny dance floor near the bar. They danced one song
, then two, onto three when Harper finally had to grab Delilah and tell her she was thirsty and needed a drink.
They talked about nothing in particular as they waited for the bartender to come over and take their drink order, screaming at each other over the loud music. Wren kept asking Harper what she’d been up to and she deflected, feeling like a jerk. But how could she tell her the truth?
“Oh, I’ve been working and pining over your brother who’s stuck at work. You didn’t know we’ve been seeing each other? Well, that’s the polite way to put it. Really we’ve been screwing around and let me tell you, Wren, West knows how to rock my world. I think I could seriously fall for him. Like . . . ”
Seriously.
Harper frowned. Um, she so couldn’t say that.
And she hated herself for it. Not being able to dig up the guts to tell Wren, afraid that she’d be mad at her, was ridiculous. But the longer Harper kept quiet the angrier Wren would most likely be. Harper was caught in a vicious cycle that was going nowhere. And she hated it.
“Hey! We need drinks!” Wren leaned over the counter, her hand in the air as she tried to get the bartender’s attention. He was too busy flirting with another group of women standing on the opposite end of the bar. All three of them wore teeny bikini tops barely covering their goods so they definitely had the advantage.
Already bored, Harper pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans to check if she had a message. Maybe West had texted her to let her know he was coming home? But there was nothing. Of course.
Sighing, she slipped her phone back into her pocket, just as Delilah slid in between her and Wren, a stern look on her face.
“Listen, don’t look so down in the dumps, wishing you were with your man,” Delilah said, glancing over her shoulder at Wren to make sure she wasn’t paying attention. But she was too busy trying to get the attention of the bartender. “She’s going to ask what’s up if you keep acting all sad and shit.”
“I need to just tell her. She’s going to find out eventually. I feel terrible that I’m keeping this from her,” Harper said. “I don’t like feeling like I’m lying to her.” Feeling like she was lying, that was a good one. There was no feeling about it.
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