by MJ Summers
Harper pursed her lips, letting the corners turn up. “Oh, thanks. God, it’s been a long time. You look great too. How are you?”
“Terrific. Even better now that I see you. What are you doing here?” He pointed to her camera.
“Oh, I’m filling in for Megan Sullivan. She’s at home with the flu.”
“You two are still friends? That’s a dangerous combination.”
“It would be if we were both here, so everyone’s safe for tonight,” she returned.
He grabbed her hand. “Come over here. There are a lot of people who’ll want to see you.”
Plucking the equipment bag off the ground, Harper let him lead her over to a crowded table.
“Look who’s back in town!” Brent called, slinging an arm around her shoulder. The group turned to him, their eyes falling on Harper.
She stared into several faces from her past along with some who were new to her, feeling a nervous excitement as she greeted everyone. Smiling, she gave the table a wave. “Hi.”
Hugs were given and introductions made. Brent sat down, but not before stealing a chair from the next table and squeezing in a spot for Harper next to him. They fell into familiar banter as though no time had passed. After a bit Harper stood up, announcing that she had to get back to work.
Brent lifted his arm, placing his fingers lightly on her lower back. “Come back over here when you’re done. We’re going over to O’Neill’s after we get kicked out of here. You have to come.”
Harper’s answer was cut short as her gaze fell on Evan, who was making his way through the tables toward her. They hadn’t seen each other since he’d kissed her, and warmth spread through her body as she watched him. Their eyes met and she could feel her heart pounding beneath her ribs as he neared. She saw him glance at Brent’s hand, his eyes narrowing. Turning back to Brent, she gave him the killer smile she meant for Evan. “Love to. Mind if I leave my bag here while I go do another round of pictures?”
“Sure thing, darling. I’ll take good care of it,” he called as he watched her walk away.
* * *
Evan watched Brent’s eyes track Harper’s ass as she manoeuvred around the table, his blood heating up to a simmer. Although he knew he had no business thinking it, he didn’t want anyone looking at her that way. Before he had time to understand just exactly why this bothered him in the first place, she was heading straight for him, in a low-cut black shirt and dark jeans that curved around her hips exactly the way his hands were itching to. Her red heels brought her big blue eyes four inches closer to his. How the hell could she walk in those things without toppling over? Instead of falling, she was moving like she was on a runway and she owned it.
She slipped through the crowded space and came face to face with Evan. He gave her a little nod. “Hey, didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I’m filling in for Megan. She was supposed to cover the event for the city,” she said, moving closer to speak into his ear. Her proximity to his neck allowed her perfume to reach his nose, then travel directly to his cock. “Are you going over to O’Neill’s after this?”
“Yeah. You coming?” he asked.
“I just received an invite. I thought it might be fun,” she answered, just as one of the other patrons knocked her forward into Evan’s chest. He grabbed her waist with one hand to steady her.
“I’ll make sure it’s fun. Save me a dance,” he said into her ear, leaving his hand on her.
Harper gave him a sultry look. “In that case, I might stop by,” she answered before turning and cutting through the crowd toward the front.
Now Evan’s eyes were the ones doing the tracking. He blew out a long breath at the sight of her walking away. She did not have that ass when they were in high school. That he would have remembered.
* * *
Harper worked until the show ended, then made her way back to the table to put away the equipment. The partygoers started to disperse, some singing to themselves, others searching for the next venue to keep the good times going. Their group followed the crowd through the gates, Brent walking beside her. “You ready for some fun?”
“I am. It’s been a while since I cut loose. I’m just going to drop off Megan’s equipment in the truck,” Harper answered, glancing behind her and seeing Evan walking with a couple of his old hockey teammates. His eyes were set on her intently.
Harper veered off the sidewalk toward the parking lot on the opposite side of the street.
“Harper, hang on a second,” Evan called, jogging after her. “You change your mind?”
“No, I just thought I’d drop off Meg’s stuff in the truck.” She paused so he could catch up.
Evan took the bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder. “Why don’t you put it in mine? I needed the Fort Knox security system, so you might as well use it too.”
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
Once everything was locked up, Evan turned to her. “Shall we go?” he asked, holding his arm out.
Harper looped her hand under his considerable forearm, wrapping her fingers around his skin. They walked in silence, the tension rising between them. Once inside the pub, Evan leaned in. “What are you drinking?”
“Surprise me,” she answered, heading over to the bar table where their friends were standing.
Harper smiled to herself. Maybe Boulder wasn’t so bad after all. So far tonight had been wonderful. She’d been welcomed with open arms by her old friends, and there was one in particular from whom she was pleased to be receiving such a warm reception. A martini glass was lowered onto the table in front of Harper. And there he was.
“Figured you for a cosmo girl,” Evan said.
Turning her head to thank him, Harper was surprised by how close he was to her. She could feel the heat off his body as she glanced up at him. His arm brushed against her shoulder as he took a drag of his beer. If he kept this up, people were going to get the wrong impression. Or maybe it was the right impression.
A few minutes later, an old Destiny’s Child hit rang out. Harper downed the rest of her drink and yelled, “Let’s go, girls! We need to show these guys just how bootylicious we are!”
They laughed and weaved through the crowd to the dance floor, then gave their best moves, hips swaying, arms in the air, shoulders shimmying, knowing that the guys were watching. After a few songs, they went to the bar to replenish their fluids. Brent teetered over to the group, ordering shots for everyone and snugging up to Harper with a sloppy grin. “You are nothing like the Harper I knew in high school. When did you get so hot?”
“Right around the time I left Boulder.” She laughed, turning to face him.
“So you got bolder when you left Boulder,” he remarked, earning him a light chuckle from Harper.
“You know,” he said moving in, “you look exactly like your mom. She was smokin’ hot.” He planted his hands on her hips, tugging her to him. “Are you wild like her, too?”
Harper’s face turned to ice. She pushed his hands off her and tried to sidestep him but he was too fast, pinning her against the bar with his arms on either side of her. “Hey now, don’t be like that. I’m trying to compliment your hot ass. You should say thank you.”
“Fuck off, Brent,” she spat out, pushing at him without any success. He was the human equivalent of a bulldog—short, stocky, solid muscle.
“Don’t be like that, baby. I know you want it. You come from a line of women who like to get nasty.” The stench of his breath and his words made Harper’s stomach lurch as she arched her back over the bar to get away from him.
“Get the hell off—” Harper’s words were cut short as she witnessed Brent’s arms suddenly being lifted and pinned straight above his head.
Evan was standing behind the bulldog and had looped his arms in front of Brent’s, then pulled up while grabbing the back of Brent’s head. The effect was immediate, leaving Brent flailing and immobilizing his upper body. Evan tugged him away from Harper. “You’re way out of
line, Brent. Go sleep it off.”
Brent struggled a minute before giving up. When he finally relaxed, Evan let him go. Instead of walking away, Brent rounded on Evan and tried to punch him in the jaw. Evan grabbed his fist and held it, squeezing his knuckles as he gave Brent a sharp jab to the gut. “I said go sleep it off. I’m not going to tell you again.”
Four bouncers descended, grabbing both men and dragging them out of the bar. Harper was quickly surrounded by her old friends. They were all talking at once, and a mixture of indignant rage and sympathy on her behalf flooded over her. She pushed past them, offering a distracted reassurance that she was fine. She needed to get out of there. The hot air felt like it might choke her, and she wanted to get to Evan before he left.
She hurried to the door, a chill running down her spine as Brent’s words played over in her mind. Once outside, she stayed behind the bouncers in case Brent was still there. Evan stood dead still while Brent took off down the sidewalk, turning back with his eye already beginning to swell shut. Evan’s bottom lip was bleeding and starting to puff up.
Harper rushed over to him. “Oh my God, Evan. Are you alright?”
“Fine. He just wouldn’t let it go.” Evan looked down at her, his expression changing from rage to concern in an instant. “You okay? I caught the tail end of what he said to you. Fucking asshole.”
“I’m fine,” Harper answered, reaching into her purse to get a tissue. She held it up to Evan’s lip, gently dabbing the blood. “Don’t worry about it. I’d never let someone like him bother me,” she scoffed, ignoring the lump now taking hold in her throat.
Evan’s voice came out gentle as he lifted his hand to hers. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you aren’t, Harper.”
Something about his words and the concern in his eyes caused Harper’s shield to dissolve. She blinked quickly at the dark sky, wrestling with the tears that now demanded to fall.
Evan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in. “He shouldn’t have said that to you. No way should you have to account for what your mother did twenty years ago. It’s no reflection on you or the rest of your family.”
Harper nodded into his thick chest, feeling safe. “It just took me by surprise. I was having so much fun that I guess I let my guard down. Anywhere but here, nobody knows, so I can pretend it never happened. I should know better than to hope people around here would have forgotten.”
“Most people have, Harper. When they talk about you, it’s because you’re a high-powered fashion executive in New York. Don’t let him get to you. He was just pissed because he knows you’re too good for him.” Evan pressed his cheek to her hair, holding her close.
Torn between wanting to stay locked in the warmth of his arms and feeling angry at herself for letting Brent get the best of her, she drew in a deep breath. “Thank you, Evan,” she whispered into his shoulder. “I should go,” she said, pulling away.
“Let me drive you home. I’ll bring you back for your truck tomorrow. I don’t want you to be alone right now.”
* * *
Evan stepped into the shower, finally noticing the tightly wound balls of tension that had fixed themselves in his neck and shoulders. He cranked the temperature up as high as it would go, hoping it would relax him. Harper’s face planted itself in his brain. She had looked so sad, so hurt, so beautiful. Rage coursed through him when he thought of that fuck, Brent. Evan knew he had a mean streak in him and had considered warning her but decided to keep an eye on them instead, not wanting to sound jealous. Now he was wishing he’d let himself look like a fool rather than let her be taken by surprise. “Goddammit!” he let out.
At least he’d managed to put a halt to things when he did. But he hated like hell that she’d been humiliated by the past yet again. No wonder she stayed away. Tonight he’d seen a glimpse of the pain she held onto, but as quickly as it had reared its head, she’d cut it off, throwing up that wall of sarcasm and sass she shielded herself with. He wanted her to let him behind that wall. He understood what it was like to feel the sting of public humiliation, and he could help her heal if she’d only let him.
* * *
Harper lay in bed that night unable to sleep. The events of the day and evening swirled around her, bringing a wave of emotions so strong she felt as though she were being dragged under. She tried to focus on the excitement of the day, the success of helping Megan, but the smell of Brent and the sound of his words kept creeping back in, crowding out anything good. She’d taken a long, hot bath, hoping to unwind and forget about him, but it hadn’t worked. As long as she was in Boulder, she was going to have to keep her guard up. She’d need to be ready for people like him who took pleasure in her family’s misery. It was entertainment of the lowest form, but for some reason, many people seemed to revel in it.
And then Evan’s face popped into her mind. His ice-blue eyes shining with warmth for her. His strong arms wrapped around her, his delicious smell as he held her near. His gentle words. Somehow this was the image that brought her to the surface again. Now she could breathe. Because of him. Her mind drifted to that moment at her front door when he’d said good night.
She’d smiled at him, hoping to seem completely confident. “Go put some ice on that lip, Donovan, or you won’t be in any shape to kiss that long line of ladies waiting for you.”
“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Evan’s eyes bored into hers.
“Are you still talking about that? That is long over.” She gave him a wink.
“I’ll come get you tomorrow morning.”
“Only if you have time. I can always take a cab.”
“I’ll have time.” He started to leave, then turned back. “Harper, about that kiss the other night . . .”
“Oh, that. I know you were just trying to make me feel better.” She shrugged. “You’re going to have to stop rescuing me like this. You’ll turn me into a damsel in distress, and there’s nothing I hate more.”
He planted his hand on her cheek, carefully placing his thumb over her lips to stop her from talking. “I was going to say I can’t stop thinking about it. As soon as my lip heals, I’m hoping we can do that again.”
He turned and strode away as her knees turned to jelly.
Ten
Harper walked into her dad’s hospital room after knocking lightly on his door. The room was darkened by drawn curtains for the fifth day in a row. She tried to hide the dread she was feeling as her eyes adjusted to the dimness.
“Dad, you up?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
Harper crossed the room to the window. “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s let some light in here.” She reached for the window but his voice stopped her.
“Just leave it. I don’t feel like looking outside.” He spoke quietly, never taking his eyes off the blankets covering his legs. His gaze held such intensity it was as though he could force his lower limbs to work just by staring at them long enough.
“Alright. I brought you coffee and oatmeal.” She walked over to his bed and flipped on a low light.
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry this morning.” His voice was a monotone, as though speaking had become too much effort.
A knock at the door was quickly followed by the entrance of a doctor. “Good morning, Roy. I’m Dr. Smyth. I’ll be taking over your care,” he said with a confident smile. He appeared to be in his late thirties and was tall and handsome, with boyish good looks and an athletic build. He was the type of man she would have given a second look if Evan hadn’t been in her brain, blocking her vision.
Roy gave him a little nod. “Okay.”
“Hi, Dr. Smyth. I’m Harper, Roy’s daughter.” She held out her hand to him.
“Nice to meet you.” He reached out to shake her hand, his eyes staying on her a beat longer than they should have.
Dr. Smyth glanced down at his clipboard. “So, Roy, I’ve been reading over your file. Says here that you have full use of your upper body but we’re still waiting for your
lower body to come around.”
“Yup.”
“Well, it’s still early but I imagine this must be tough on you. The waiting. How’s the pain management going?”
“Fine.”
“Good. Well, that’s something.” Dr. Smyth made a note on the chart. “Should we open the curtains? It’s a bit gloomy in here.”
“Nope. Suits me just fine.”
Dr. Smyth tilted his head toward Harper, giving her a concerned look. “Roy, I’d like to bring someone in to talk with you about how you’re feeling. A psychologist. It’s very common for people to start feeling depressed in your situation.”
“No, thanks. Not interested.”
“That’s the thing about depression. It makes it hard to be interested in anything. Her name is Dr. Chan. She can help.”
“No. Thank. You,” Roy barked, glaring at the doctor.
“Take some time to think about it. You can let me know tomorrow.”
“Already did.”
“I have to finish my rounds but we’re going to take you downstairs for a few tests later.”
Roy nodded and Dr. Smyth turned to Harper. “Could I see you outside for a moment? I need to go over some forms with you.”
The bright light of the hallway streamed into the room as they walked out, leaving Roy alone again.
Dr. Smyth turned to her. “I’ve been talking with Sadie, the head nurse. We have concerns about your father’s mental condition.”
Harper nodded, unable to speak without her voice breaking.
“We can’t force him to talk to a psychologist but I think we should try to get someone in there as soon as possible. I can prescribe antidepressants, but of course he’d have to agree to that.”
“Alright.”
“I just want to reassure you that this is completely expected in his situation. At the same time, we don’t want to let him slip too far, so if you know of a way to convince him to get help, please do so.”
