by MJ Summers
“I better. My eyes are watering. Sorry, Harper. Call me later to let me know if you aren’t coming. Otherwise, just show up.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Megs. Tell Luc thank you from me.”
As Harper hung up, traffic started moving again and a hot breeze blew through the truck’s cab. It didn’t so much cool her down as relieve her from the suffocating heat she had been sitting in for the past twenty minutes. She groaned loudly to herself. Each mile was bringing her closer to a past she had left behind, one she’d been running from her entire adult life. She was about to come face to face with all of it, with all those people who knew about her mother and the shame she’d brought on their family. Each time Harper had gone home before, the glamour of her career had allowed her to hold her head high, to brush off those old feelings of humiliation. But now she had no career to hold up as a shield. And she wasn’t going to be able to make her usual quick appearance, then dash off. She would be there for the long haul.
Five
Boulder, Colorado
Nine hours later, Harper pulled up in front of her childhood home, turning off the engine with a sense of doom. “I don’t want to do this,” she told herself as she rubbed her burning eyes, then searched through her purse for her house keys. It was late in the evening and she had missed dinner at Luc and Megan’s, stopping for a deeply unsatisfying chicken burger and fries along the way. She could still taste the grease coating the inside of her mouth as she collected the garbage scattered around the seat and scrunched up the bag that had held her supper.
Sitting in front of her old house, reality started to set in. She was here to stay as her father made his painful recovery. The three days she had spent in the truck were nothing compared to what was coming. Opening her door, she slid down, dragging her bag along with her as she exited the truck. She would leave unpacking for tomorrow. Right now all she wanted was a cold beer, a long shower and to drop into bed for about twenty hours straight.
After letting herself into the house, Harper undressed and turned the tap to full to heat the water for her shower. Nothing happened. Not one drop of water came out. “What the . . .” she muttered to herself, walking over to the sink and trying it, only to get the same result.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she inquired of the sink.
Hurrying to the kitchen in the nude, she grabbed her cell and dialed her brother’s number. He would know what was wrong. No answer.
She texted him.
Craig. I’m at Dad’s and the effing water isn’t working. I smell worse than Wes after he plays hockey. I NEED a shower. Do you know how to get the water working?
Looking out the kitchen window, she glanced at the Morleys’ house across the street. “Never.”
She noticed the light of the TV in the living room of the bungalow next to theirs. Mr. Patterson was home. He would know what to do! He had been a plumber before he retired. In Harper’s mind, he was also one of the few people in the world who wouldn’t be horrified by her current disgusting state. Donning her dad’s old blue bathrobe and his flip-flops, she scurried across the street, hoping the dark sky would cloak her. The door opened after her first knock and a teenage girl gave her a surprised look. “Yes?”
“Oh, sorry. Does Mr. Patterson not live here anymore?”
“No. I think he went to Florida, maybe? We moved in a couple of months ago,” she responded, looking Harper up and down with wide eyes. “Can I help you with something?”
“Not unless you’re a plumber, by chance. My dad lives across the street.” She pointed at the house. “I just got to town and the water’s not working. I’ve been driving all day and I’m desperate for a shower.”
“Um, well, I don’t think my parents would want me to let a strange lady in to use our shower. Sorry,” she answered, starting to close the door.
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. Sorry to have bothered you—” she said as the door shut. “Please forget this ever happened,” Harper said as she turned to leave, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
She crossed the street, only to discover that she had locked herself out of the house. “Oh yeah, this might as well happen,” she snarled. She would have to climb the fence. The spare key was hidden near the back door and the gate latch was inaccessible from outside the fence. Her father had a lot of expensive equipment in his workshop and was careful about securing it. Finding a break in the shrubs along the wooden fence, she put one foot on a low branch to steady herself as she hoisted herself up with both hands. Managing to boost herself to the top of the fence, she got one leg over, praying no one would see her. Her robe was doing little now to hide the fact that she was nude under it. Once on top of the wood, she realized what a long drop it was to the other side. Jumping down had suddenly become a frightening proposition.
“Oh, Harper, why did you do this?” she groaned, as the old fence teetered under her weight.
“I was just wondering the same thing,” came a voice from behind her.
The voice was low and amused and it was one she would recognize anywhere. It made her heart skip a beat, just like it had done since she was fourteen years old. It was the voice of Evan Donovan, the one she had secretly lusted after almost her whole life, the one all the girls lusted after. He had played football and hockey, and was gorgeous and cocky as hell, but with the game to back up his attitude. He had been three years ahead of her in school, a classmate and close friend of her brother Wes. Even though they’d lived next door to each other until Evan went off to college, he had never noticed her. Until now. When she was perched on top of a fence. In nothing but a ratty bathrobe. And was all sweaty, with smudged makeup and her hair piled on top of her head with a metal clip.
Please have a comb-over and a huge paunch, she begged silently. Turning her head, her face and neck now burned with humiliation. Harper reluctantly took in the sight of the muscular frame his blue T-shirt and jeans were displaying on his behalf. As her eyes travelled up his body, a sexy grin spread across his face, causing those dimples in his cheeks to pop. Nope. Still insanely hot.
Clearing her throat, she tried her best to sound casual about her current circumstances. “I seem to have locked myself out. And now I’m a little bit stuck up here.”
“You always were a little bit stuck-up, so this seems about right,” he teased, moving closer to her.
“Stuck-up?” she asked with righteous indignation. “That’s not . . .”
Turning back to him again, she saw him step toward her, which reminded her of how naked she was. “Stay back!” she ordered. She could not let him see her like this. She was going to look her best when she ran into him again. Hair and makeup perfect, wearing just the right outfit. It was not going to happen this way.
He stopped on the spot. “How am I supposed to help you from back here?”
“You won’t. The thing is, I am fairly naked under this robe, and if you come any closer, you might . . . see things,” Harper explained.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen those things before. It won’t exactly ruin me for life,” Evan replied.
“Well, you haven’t seen my things before, and I think we should keep it that way. Besides, I really don’t need any help. I’ve got it.”
“Okay. But I’m guessing that leg you’ve swung up on the fence is starting to hurt. You sure you don’t need a hand?”
“Nope. I’m good,” Harper answered, trying to shift her weight to relieve some of the pressure of the wood cutting into her thigh. Damn him for being right!
Her movement caused the fence to start teetering even more than when she first climbed it, which in turn made her lose her balance and fall backwards. “Oh shit!” she cried in a tiny, high-pitched voice.
She didn’t land in the pokey branches of the shrub below as she had feared might happen. She landed somewhere much more comfortable for her body but much more uncomfortable for her sense of decency. She landed in Evan’s strong arms, her robe now fully open, the sash hanging uselessly from a nail o
n the fence.
“Gotcha!” he said as he caught her. His eyes grew wide as he caught sight of her full breasts so close to his face. Quickly setting her down on her feet, he glued his gaze to the grass as she closed the robe tightly around her body. Reaching for the sash, he plucked it off the fence and handed it to her before turning away to let her finish securing it around her waist.
“You all set?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yes. Thank you for catching me,” she answered, her voice businesslike.
Evan turned and smiled at her, a hint of laughter in his eyes. “No problem. Really. I didn’t mind as much as you might think.”
Harper shut her eyes tight, knowing he was referring to having seen her breasts. Her embarrassment was being edged out by excitement that he seemed so impressed.
“So, we need to figure out how to get you into the house, and then get your water on.”
“Yes. Do you have a ladder or something?” She tapped her chin with a finger. “Wait. What are you even doing here? And how do you know about the water?”
“I live next door. I bought my parents’ house from them a couple of years ago,” Evan answered, pointing to the house beside them with his thumb. “Craig texted me to turn the water back on for you.” Pulling a key out of his pocket, he held it up to her. “I watch your dad’s place for him when he goes to Mexico in the winter.”
Harper’s face brightened as he dropped the key into her hand. The luxury of soap and water was in her near future. Now if only she could erase his memory of having seen her all sweaty and horribly dressed. And maybe her breasts too. No, that part she could live with.
“Who shut off the water?” she asked as they crossed the lawn together and walked up the steps to the small bungalow.
“I did. You’re supposed to turn off the main waterline if you’re going to be away for more than a few days. I can show you how to do it,” he answered, following her into the house.
“Can we do the tutorial another time? I’m beat. I’ve been driving with no air conditioning for three days straight.”
“You drove that rig across the country yourself?” Evan asked. “I gotta say, Harper, I’m impressed.” He gave her a nod of approval.
“This might come as a surprise to you, but I didn’t do it to impress you. Unlike most females in Colorado, I don’t make every move with you in mind.”
He chuckled a little. “You might be giving me too much credit, but either way, it’s my loss. Be right back,” he said, jogging down the stairs to the utility room.
Harper’s heart pounded as she searched through her purse and was rewarded by a package of blotting papers. Furiously dabbing at her face, she hoped the effort would help at least a little. A moment later, the pipes groaned loudly and a sputtering sound erupted from the bathroom as water started to gush from the taps. She rushed to turn off both faucets before walking back to the hall in time to see Evan ascending the stairs.
“There you go,” he announced. “It’s going to be about twenty minutes before the hot water is ready, though.”
“Can I offer you a beer while I wait?” Harper asked, not wanting him to leave just yet. He’d already seen her looking like hell, so she might as well drink in a little more time with him. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”
“That would be nice. I think I’ll take you up on that.” He stared at her a second longer than he should have before settling himself at the small kitchen table. Harper tried not to notice how the muscles in his arms rippled as he leaned back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head. A flash of him running those strong hands all over her body pierced her mind, and she quickly looked away before those sexy, ice-blue eyes of his read her thoughts.
Harper opened the fridge, knowing it would be stocked with Budweiser. Not disappointed, she pulled two cans out and seated herself in the chair opposite his, sliding a can across the table to Evan’s waiting hand before cracking hers open and taking a long swig.
“If I were stuck-up, would I be in my dad’s ancient bathrobe, drinking beer out of a can?” she asked as she rested the beer on the table.
Evan smirked as though satisfied that his joke when she was up on the fence had finally landed. “Sure, you’ll do that when you’re back in Colorado, but I bet your high-class fashionista friends in Manhattan and Paris have never seen you with a can of Bud in your hand. I’m sure it’s either wine or dry martinis.”
“You know the word fashionista? That surprises me somehow.”
“I’m a man of the world now.” He grinned at her playfully. “There are all sorts of things I know that would surprise you.”
“Really?” Harper tried to sound unimpressed, then took a long sip of cold beer to stop herself from asking him to describe those things in detail. “So, how come I’ve never seen you here if you’ve been living next door for two years?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing. We must keep missing each other. I go visit my parents and Karen’s family down in Arizona for most holidays. When I’m in town, I’m not home much.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been accused of being a workaholic, and when I’m not at work I’m usually hanging from a cliff somewhere.”
“Hanging from a cliff? Like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.”
Evan laughed. “Something like that. Except I actually do all my own stunts.”
“So does he, apparently.”
“Nah, he pays people to say that.”
“Still cocky, I see . . .” She pressed her lips into a fine line.
“You mean charmingly confident. But yes. Anyway, I should let you hit the shower. Thanks for the beer.”
“Any time,” Harper answered, her voice verging on a purr. Disgusted with herself, she straightened up. “Thanks for saving me.”
“My pleasure,” he replied, his amused expression returning as he stood and started for the front door. “Just don’t tell your brothers I saw your tatas. They’d try to kick my ass even though it wasn’t in any way my fault.”
Harper’s face scrunched in embarrassment at the memory. “Deal. How about neither of us ever mentions it or thinks about it again.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I might be able to stop myself from talking about it, but I can’t promise I won’t think about it.”
“Well, in that case, you should probably let me see what’s under your clothes so we’ll be even,” she proposed, planting a fist on her hip.
He gave her a flirty grin, his dimples making an encore appearance. “Better not. If I show you what’s under here, it would ruin you for other men for the rest of your life.”
Before shutting the door, Harper watched him stride across the grass to his house. She didn’t need him to take his clothes off. She was imagining what was under them all on her own, and just the thought of it had ruined her for other men a long time ago.
* * *
Evan got into bed that night with a lighter feeling than he had most nights, and it had everything to do with Harper Young. She’d always been a cute, feisty teenager, with that lanky body of hers. Back then, she had barely spoken two words to him, not that he had ever really tried to get her talking. He could tell she was a real handful, watching her with her dad and her brothers. Smart. Fiery temper. Determined. Even at fifteen, she was going places.
He hadn’t seen her since he’d left to play hockey for Montana State. Time had clearly been kind to her, though, adding all those curves to that slight frame. Now, twenty years later, as Evan lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Or rather, he couldn’t get those gorgeous breasts of hers out of his mind. Those were breasts a guy could lose himself in for a good long while. It had been far too long since he’d been able to lose himself like that, and he knew he was going to struggle not to think about her, knowing she was just next door.
Six
Harper woke to the sound of the birds outside her window, feeling refreshed. It was a sunny, beautiful
day and she had slept hard, dropping off as soon as her head hit the pillow. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was a quarter to eight. She hopped out of bed and went to brush her teeth and wash her face. She was going straight to the hospital to see her dad. Unpacking could wait.
Her face warmed when she thought of Evan and the feeling of his strong arms catching her as she fell. He had put her down quickly but not before she got a whiff of his aftershave. She could picture the lust in his eyes when her robe came open and his sideways grin as he teased her. And those dimples she wanted to lick. Splashing water onto her face, she saw the colour returning to her cheeks as decades of desire for him rekindled. It was like the flame on one of those trick candles that, no matter how hard you blow, won’t go out.
An image of him looking up at her as she teetered on the fence flashed before her: his gorgeous face, wearing an expression of surprise and amusement that softened his chiselled features; his broad shoulders and powerful torso that narrowed at the waist; his dark brown hair, a thick mass of waves cut shorter now than when they were teens. After all these years, this man still affected her like no other. He was rugged and rough around the edges, and he stirred feelings that made her blush—first crush–type feelings, with all the excitement and novelty that comes with them. Feelings that caused her to memorize his every word, every look, every tone of voice. Now that life had deposited her next door to him, she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle being so near a man no one could even begin to compare to. He wasn’t just a man. He was the man. And she knew without a doubt that she would be utterly unable to resist shamelessly throwing herself at him if he paid her even the slightest bit more interest.
She pulled out the last set of clothes in her overnight bag—black slim-fit cropped pants and a light-knit white boat neck sweater for a classic summer look. Tying her auburn hair back in a ponytail and quickly applying her makeup, she stood for a moment, satisfied with what she had accomplished. She looked natural enough that it wouldn’t seem like she was trying, but she had still managed to raise her cheekbones a little and make her eyes that much bigger and her lips that much fuller. She found herself wishing she’d run into Evan today, when she looked put together.
