Pretend You're Mine: A Small Town Love Story

by Score, Lucy

  “But if you want me and I want you, then why —”

  “Baby, I just can’t. I’m not … ready. And if I were, you would be the first to know it. But I just can’t take my focus off of work and deploying. I know that if I were inside you, I’d lose complete fucking control and that can’t happen. I just don’t have room in my life for you.”

  Harper finally closed her mouth and looked down at her hands clasped in her lap.

  Luke reached over and took one of her hands. “You are a beautiful, sweet, sexy girl and someone is going to be very lucky to be devoured by you. It just can’t be me. So I’d appreciate it if you’d start wearing parkas and shit around me so I don’t keep fantasizing about your hot body.”

  “So you do want me, and I am offering myself to you with no strings attached, but you want your order and focus more?”

  He squeezed her hand. “When you put it that way it sounds really stupid.”

  “You’re a complicated man, Luke.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Three weeks…

  Luke kept his distance from her at work, and that was fine with Harper. She felt guilty for pushing him, and disappointed that Luke wasn’t willing to explore the attraction that they both felt.

  She was surprised to see his truck in the driveway when she got home. She felt like she was unintentionally chasing him out of his own house so maybe this was a good sign.

  Harper let herself in and took the grocery bags back the hall to the kitchen. There was no sign of Luke in the house, but she heard voices coming from the somewhere.

  She let herself out the back door onto the porch and spotted Luke at the far end of the yard. He was standing in a loose triangle with two boys. They all had baseball gloves.

  “You’ve got to tighten up on that grip when you throw it, Robbie,” Luke instructed the taller boy with sandy, shaggy hair. “Here, let me show you.”

  She watched him demonstrate the grip and hand the ball over. “Give it a shot.” Luke jogged back to his spot. “Let ’er rip.”

  The boy wound up and released a perfect curving pitch that smacked into Luke’s glove.

  “Yeah, baby! Did you see that?” The boy hooted and sprinted to Luke.

  “Now that’s a curve,” Luke laughed. They fist bumped and Luke tossed the ball back to him. “Try it again. Make sure it’s not a fluke.”

  Robbie hustled back to his spot and adjusted his hold on the ball. He fired another pitch into Luke’s glove.

  “Me next! Me next!” The smaller boy threw his glove in air. “Mr. Luke, I want to throw.”

  Luke repeated the process with the younger brother. He didn’t quite get it, but seemed proud of his effort. “Mr. Luke, there’s a lady on your porch.” Robbie said, pointing at Harper.

  Harper waved and walked down the steps to the patio. Luke met her with the boys, Robbie at his side and the younger one tossed over his shoulder.

  God, he looked good. He was wearing worn jeans, a white fitted t-shirt, and a baseball cap. But nothing was sexier than the grin on his face.

  “Hey,” he said, dropping the boy at her feet.

  “Hey,” she laughed when he scrambled to his feet in a fit of giggles.

  “Harper, these are my friends Robbie and Henry. They’re brothers and they live two houses down with Mrs. Agosta.

  Mrs. Agosta was closing in on 70 and Dominican. Harper was pretty sure she wasn’t the boys’ mother.

  “Guys, this is my friend, Harper.”

  “Hi,” Robbie said, holding out a hand. He had earnest green eyes and a smattering of freckles across his nose.

  “Nice to meet you, Robbie,” Harper took his hand. “Hi, Henry.”

  Henry, a miniature version of his brother, waved cheerfully, and his smile showed that he was missing a front tooth.

  “Robbie and Henry are hanging out while Mrs. Agosta takes their sister to the doctor.”

  “Her snot’s green. It’s gross,” Henry announced, tossing his glove in the air.

  “Wow, that is gross,” Harper agreed. “Do you guys want to stay for dinner?”

  “What are you having?” Robbie asked.

  Luke cuffed him on the back of the head.

  “What?” Robbie asked. “I don’t want to stay if it’s like liver and garbage.”

  Luke wrapped him in a headlock. “You’re such a little jerk,” he said, ruffling Robbie’s hair.

  “Burgers, tater tots, and salad.” Harper ticked off on her fingers. “Is that better than liver and garbage?”

  “Well, the burgers and tater tots are,” Robbie agreed.

  “I love tater tots,” Henry squealed. He launched himself at Harper’s legs for a quick hug before spinning off to tag his brother. “You’re it,” he shouted.

  The boys tore off in a high-energy game of tag, leaving Harper and Luke alone on the patio.

  “Sorry about that. I should have texted you to warn you about the extra testosterone.”

  “It’s a nice surprise. Besides, two extra mouths will go further on the eight-pack of burgers I brought home.”

  “I’ll fire up the grill,” he grinned. “Good luck talking them into the salad.”

  ***

  Harper did talk them into the salad, but had to promise they could each pick an ingredient before they agreed. Harper chose tomatoes. Robbie wanted bacon. Henry decided on Cheetos.

  “Can we really do that?” Robbie whispered over the counter with concern.

  Harper shrugged. “Maybe they’ll taste like croutons?”

  She put Henry in charge of putting the tater tots on the baking sheet and Robbie rinsing the lettuce while she fried the bacon and diced tomatoes.

  “Do you live here with Mr. Luke?” Henry asked, adjusting the last tater tot.

  “I do.”

  “Are you married?”

  “Nope. Are you?”

  Henry frowned. “No. Girls are gross.”

  “Robbie, do you think girls are gross?” Harper asked, as he brought the lettuce back to the counter and dumped it in a large bowl.

  He shrugged. “Some of them are okay I guess.”

  Harper put the tater tots in the oven and set the timer. “So is Mrs. Agosta your grandma?” she asked the boys.

  “Huh-uh,” Robbie shook his head. “We’re not even related.”

  “We’re fosters,” Henry piped up, carefully placing Cheetos on the lettuce.

  “Me, too,” Harper said, adding the tomatoes and the bacon to the salad.

  “You’re a foster kid?” Robbie’s interest was piqued.

  “Yep.”

  “Is Mr. Luke your foster dad?” Henry asked.

  Robbie rolled his eyes. “No, dummy, they’re boyfriend-girlfriend.” Harper didn’t bother correcting him. The truth would only confuse them … and her.

  “Did you get real parents?” Henry wondered.

  Harper shook her head. “No, I didn’t get adopted. But I got to meet a lot of nice families.”

  “Mrs. Agosta is nice. She’s teaching us Spanish. Do you think we’ll get ’dopted?”

  Harper paused mid-salad-toss. Luke, holding a plate of burgers, had come in the back door just in time to hear Henry’s question.

  The boys were watching her closely, and she knew what they wanted. She had wanted it, too. Sometimes still wanted it. Hope.

  “Well, you’re not overly smelly,” she poked Henry in the belly until he giggled. “And you’re kind of cute. You seem nice. You haven’t destroyed Mr. Luke’s house yet. So yeah, you’ll have a family. And in the meantime, you get to stay with nice Mrs. Agosta and learn Spanish.”

  “I can count!” Henry announced. “Uno, dos, tres … ” He counted out each Cheeto as he placed it on the salad.

  “Burgers are done,” Luke said, finally venturing past the doorway.

  “Awesome,” Robbie said, sniffing the air. “I love burgers. Do you have ketchup and mustard? Is there cheese?”

  Harper took her time counting out four plates as the boys chattered to Luke
. She hoped for their sake that there was a family out there looking for three kids.

  ***

  They ate at the breakfast bar with the boys sitting on stools and Harper and Luke standing. Harper and the kids traded funny stories about foster care. The Cheetos salad turned out to be a hit. Even Robbie cleaned his bowl.

  Harper and Luke let themselves be talked into going for ice cream before taking the boys home. Their sister, Ava, a tiny dark-haired version of her brothers, was sound asleep on the couch when they arrived at Mrs. Agosta’s house. Diagnosed with a sinus infection, she would be good as new in a few days. Mrs. Agosta thanked them profusely for helping and sent them home with fresh blueberry muffins.

  They walked home in silence with the sunset blazing in the western sky. It was nice having the boys over, Harper thought as she mounted the porch steps. Their chatter and energy covered up the low hum of conflict that constantly buzzed between her and Luke.

  Something was going to have to change, and fast.

  “You’re really good with them,” Luke said, dropping down on the top step.

  Harper paused and leaned against the railing. She knew what he was doing, even if he wasn’t aware. The pull between them only strengthened behind closed doors. Outside was safer.

  “You, too. Nice coaching on the curve ball.”

  Luke smiled. “They’re really good kids.” He took off his hat and toyed with it. “Did you mean what you said? That you think they’ll find a family?”

  Harper sat down next to him and sighed. “It’s three kids and none of them are babies. It’ll be hard, but yeah. I think there’s going to be a family that falls for them hard. How could you not?”

  “Why do you think you were never adopted?” He was watching her now, and Harper kept her expression neutral.

  “I was seven when I went into foster care. The majority of adoptions are for babies and toddlers. The older kids just can’t compete with that. I think some people worry that the older ones are too damaged.”

  Luke put his arm around her. “You’re not damaged.”

  Harper smiled. “No, I’m not now. But I was then. You have to be someone really special to want to tackle a project like that. But I, like all kids, was resilient. Someday I’ll have my own family and it’ll all be worth it.”

  Luke squeezed her shoulder.

  “Do you ever think about having kids?” Harper asked.

  He was silent for a long moment. “I used to.”

  “Do you ever get lonely?”

  Luke sighed. “Yeah.”

  “Me, too.”

  He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re going to have everything you want someday.”

  She dropped her head to his shoulder. “Until then this isn’t so bad.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Harper had an extra spring in her step the next morning. She had slept like a rock, once again ending up in Luke’s arms at some point during the night. And Luke’s part-time bookkeeper was coming back to work today.

  Harper was excited about the prospect of some company around the office and an extra pair of hands to help tackle the work.

  Ready for a shower, Harper tugged the t-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor next to her shorts. Luke was out for a run, his long one. No one was going to witness her mostly naked streak downstairs to grab the new body wash she had left in her bag in the kitchen.

  She crooned along to Bruno Mars wailing through her ear buds and busted some serious moves down the stairs. She grabbed the body wash and, since she was in the kitchen, decided she’d pour herself a glass of juice to enjoy after her shower.

  She found the juice behind a bag of salad mix and the steaks Luke was going to grill for dinner that night. In her opinion, the fridge’s contents had vastly improved since she moved in. Harper stood on tiptoe to reach for a plastic cup out of the cabinet. Damn it. Couldn’t quite reach.

  She levered herself up onto her knees on the counter and grabbed the cup. Just as she moved to hop back down someone grabbed her.

  She screamed loud enough that she could hear it over the music thundering in her ears and threw an elbow. She flailed and kicked as she was plucked off the countertop. Her heel grazed solid flesh and together they went down in a heap.

  She crawled forward, scrambling frantically. A hand grabbed at her hip and came away with a fistful of the waistband of her underwear. She shrieked before a hand clamped over her mouth.

  Her ear buds were yanked out.

  “Jesus Christ, Harper! Stop kicking!”

  “Luke?” Harper tried to look over her shoulder and found his face looming an over her. “Oh my God! You scared the crap out of me! I thought you were some crazy rapist.”

  “What the hell were you doing? I come in and you’re shaking your ass on the counter.” He was shouting.

  “I was getting a cup for juice,” Harper shouted back. “I thought you were out for a run.”

  “I was,” he gritted out. “I have an early meeting.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why don’t you have any clothes on?”

  Harper realized that her bare breasts were smashed into the kitchen floor and her underwear was halfway down her thighs.

  “Oh my God!” Harper tried to wriggle free.

  “For the love of God, Harper, stop wiggling.”

  “Just let me — Oh.” He was hard. She felt him through the incredibly thin gym shorts, nestled against the juncture of your thighs. “Luke?”

  “Just give me a minute,” he muttered.

  “You sound mad,” she whispered.

  “Harper!” He barked her name and she felt him twitch against her. He sighed. His breath was a warm breeze on her neck. “Okay. Get up.”

  He pushed himself off the floor and pulled her up by the elbow. Harper set about yanking her underwear back into place with one hand while trying to cover her breasts with the other arm.

  “What’s the point, Harp? I’ve already seen it all.” He looked annoyed.

  “Fine.” She dropped her arm and put her hands on her hips. “You’re this mad because I climbed up on the counter?”

  His gaze flickered up to her face and back down again. Harper set her jaw. “Eyes up here, buddy.”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

  “Why are you so pissed?”

  “Fuck it.” He grabbed her — again by the waistband of her underwear — and yanked her against him. They stood that way, mouths a breath apart, for a second and then another one. Harper moved first. She brought her hands to his shoulders. When he didn’t move, she rose on tiptoe and slowly brought her lips to his.

  His mouth, like the rest of him, was hard.

  His hands moved, splaying across her back and pulling her tighter as his mouth moved in deeper. Harper’s head tilted back to accommodate the assault. His tongue forced her mouth open wider. She surrendered to him. He tasted and she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

  He shoved her back against the fridge, his lips never breaking contact. Harper let her hands slide under his tank top. He helped her tug it over his head and moved back in.

  Her nipples pebbled against his warm skin. She could feel his heart pounding under the phoenix tattoo. Hers drummed a matching staccato beat.

  She nibbled on his lower lip and he inhaled sharply. Luke skimmed his hands up her sides to cup the undersides of her breasts. She sighed against him and his thumbs brushed over her sensitive peaks.

  The delicate torture made her ache for him. She slid her hand in the waistband of his mesh shorts and wrapped her fingers around his shaft.

  “Harper.” It was half groan and half warning.

  She stroked his erection down to the thick root and back to the tip. He lowered his forehead to hers trying to catch his breath. His hands stilled on her breasts.

  Boldly, she stroked him again. His fingers tightened around her nipples, tugging and teasing. Harper felt moisture bead at the tip of his penis. She wiped it against her stomach, smearing
the wetness on her skin.

  Luke abandoned a breast and brought his fingertips to her center, forcing her thighs apart with a knee. He ran two fingers over the damp fabric of her underwear and Harper felt her world go gray. She ached for those fingers to be deep inside her, driving her need.

  He skimmed over the fabric, back and forth in time to Harper’s strokes. When his thumb brushed her nipple again, Harper thought she would come apart.

  On a growl, Luke tugged the cotton to the side and cupped her. His warm fingers pressed against her wet center. He hitched her leg over his hip to give him better access. Spread open to him, she welcomed the pressure of his rough hand.

  He bent his knees, lowering his mouth to her breast.

  With the new angle, Harper rubbed the tip of his shaft against her bare core.

  He suckled with an intensity that had Harper’s knees shaking. Her strokes became shorter and harder, notching him against her sex.

  So close. Just an inch lower and—

  The doorbell broke through their haze.

  Luke’s hands froze on her flesh and then disappeared as he hastily stepped back. He swore, readjusting the waistband of his shorts to pin down his hard-on.

  “It’s Frank. He’s riding with me to the meeting.” Luke wiped a hand over his face. “Shit.”

  Harper sagged against the cold metal of the refrigerator, her breasts heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and lowered his forehead to hers. “I need you to go upstairs. Now.”

  Harper nodded, but didn’t move. He sighed and grabbed his tank top off the floor. “Come on, let’s cover you up.” Yanking it over her head, he pulled it down her torso. The deep armholes did little to cover her breasts, but at least her nipples were hidden from view.

  Luke tugged her underwear back in place and Harper shivered when his fingers brushed her sensitive flesh.

  He grabbed her by the back of the neck and yanked her to him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead gave her a hard kiss on the mouth. “Now get upstairs before I let Frank in.”

  Harper nodded and hurried to the stairs at the front of the house, careful not to look out the sidelights to see if Frank was witnessing her walk of shame.