Promise Me the Stars: A Hearts of Harkness Romance (The Standish Clan Book 3)

by Norah Wilson

  “Climb.”

  The command in his voice sent another bolt of excitement to her core.

  She wasn’t fond of heights, but as she climbed the ladder, she was conscious that he was right behind her. If she slipped, he would catch her. He would always keep her safe.

  Not so safe for your heart, though.

  She shook the thought away. Not because it wasn’t true, but because it wasn’t relevant. Just as it was too late for her daughter to avoid some anguish when they left here, it was too late for April to shield her heart. His leaving Montreal had shown her that. Even if she’d chosen to walk away untouched, it wouldn’t stop the heartache. So why not have him while she could?

  As she stepped from the ladder into the loft, she caught her breath. It was beautiful. The rough-hewn floorboards had been painted white, giving the place an airy feel, even though the walls and rafters were unfinished. The focal point was the bed and night table, which stood in the midst of all that otherwise empty space. She crossed to the bed, neatly made with a Hudson’s Bay point blanket as the coverlet. The classic style, of course, off-white with those primary colored stripes. It looked perfect in the rustic setting.

  He went to one side of the room and opened two huge wooden doors. She felt the cold, fresh evening air move into the space and went to stand beside him.

  “Omigod, the stars! Look at them. So beautiful.”

  “Not half as beautiful as you.”

  She glanced up to see the hungry way he was looking at her. Her breasts tingled with the need to have his hands on them. She started to move closer, intending to take his hand and place it exactly where she wanted it, but then it hit her—they didn’t have any protection.

  She froze.

  “April, what is it?”

  So much for her poker face. “I was just thinking…we don’t have condoms.”

  His eyebrows shot up, then came down in a frown. Then his face cleared. He strode purposefully over to a big aluminum bin standing against the far wall, the type of storage chest you usually saw in the box of a pickup truck to hold tools and such. He lifted the lid and pulled out his backpack. Unzipping the side compartment, he fished around inside.

  “Bingo.” He held up two condoms. “But I better date check ’em. They’ve been riding around with me for a while.” He moved to the edge of the hay mow to catch more light from the overhead fixtures. “And we have a winner. Well-traveled, but plenty of shelf-life left.”

  “Good.” Suddenly nervous now that the last potential obstacle had been removed, April walked over to the bed and trailed her fingers over the woolen Hudson’s Bay blanket. She glanced up at him. “What about mice…any chance we’ll be getting in bed with some?”

  He grinned. “No. The mattress is solid latex foam, which they don’t seem to like very much. But to be safe, it gets rolled up and stored in there when I’m not here.” He nodded toward the aluminum storage unit. “And there’s no box spring for the little guys to get up inside of. Just a wooden platform.” The sexy smile he gave her made her toes fairly curl. “It’ll just be you and me, April.”

  “Good.” Wow, April. Scintillating conversation, there.

  “You know, we don’t have to do this.” He was studying her face now. “You can still change your mind. You can always change your mind.”

  In that moment, she almost loved him. Standing there beside the wide, inviting bed, sporting a hard-on beneath those faded Levis after she’d practically jumped him, and he was offering to pull back. Her nerves dissolved in the face of his consideration.

  “Thank you, but I’m not changing my mind.” She toed off her runners. Then, taking a deep breath, she reached for the hem of her heavy sweater and pulled it over her head.

  His gaze clapped onto her chest and the plain nude-colored, seamless T-shirt bra. If her decision hadn’t been so spur-of-the-moment, she’d have worn something sexier. Her black pushup bra did wonders for her modest breasts. But he didn’t seem to mind the lack of lace or seductive construction.

  “Let me take it off.”

  She shivered as he came to stand just inches from her. As his arms went around her, she breathed him in, the scent of his soap, his skin. The clean, outdoorsy smell of his gray chamois shirt. She felt his right hand find the bra’s clasp, releasing it. She let him peel it from her. He deposited it on the nightstand and stepped back to look his fill.

  Despite all the times they’d come close to this, he’d never seen her breasts. Her bra, yes, and one of them fairly transparent. But never her bare breasts.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  He lifted a hand to cup and lift one breast. Her dark nipples contracted, hardening into tight nubs.

  She lifted his other hand and guided it to the other breast. He laughed, his breath warm on her face. Then he bent to suckle one of those nipples, sending bolts of desire straight to her womb. Her body sagged and he guided her back to the bed.

  They went down in a tangle of limbs. His mouth was on hers now, kissing her urgently. She tore at his shirt, helping him strip it off. Then they were both wriggling out of their jeans. He cursed as he fought to get his boots off, then the Levis. She laid back and watched him, smiling at his struggle. Finally naked, he rolled toward her. She went into his arms easily.

  There was silence in the old barn then, save for their breathing. As hands sought heated skin and learned dips and curves, their breathing accelerated, growing harsh in the silence. April was poised to take his rock-hard cock into her when he remembered the condom. He got it open and on without losing a beat, and when he slid home inside her, she had to bite down on a shout of delight at the all-but-forgotten sensation.

  This. This is what she dreamed of those nights when Scott had slept in the suite at the end of the hall in the Boisverts’ home. How many times had she woken drenched in sweat, her thighs damp from the yearning? And now he was between her thighs, propped on his arms, pinning her to the foam mattress. Fucking her with slow, deliberate strokes.

  She dug her nails into the points of his shoulders and lifted her hips to meet each thrust. “Faster.” She heard the naked plea in her voice but didn’t care. “Harder.”

  With a growl, he complied. Short minutes later, she tipped over the edge, convulsing around him. He followed quickly, with an exultant cry.

  She was vaguely aware of him getting up. Disposing of the condom, she supposed. Then he was back, drawing the covers over their cooling bodies. She snuggled into him, resting her head on his arm. She really should get up, dress. Sneak back into the house.

  He kissed her forehead. “You okay?”

  She smiled. “I’m so much better than okay.”

  “Good. Stay and watch the stars with me for a bit.”

  She really shouldn’t. “Okay.”

  “Let me get the lights.”

  He slipped out from under the covers again. This time, she was very much aware as he strode naked to a beam on the hay mow’s edge and the junction box with the light switch mounted on it. She’d spent enough time looking at his butt—in work pants, in blue jeans, in motorcycle chaps—to know it was truly world class, but it gave her great pleasure to see it bared. Then the light went out and he was just a blur of white making his way back to bed.

  They settled together again beneath the blankets. Outside the big doors, the sky was a gorgeous blanket of stars, pinpricks of light in a luscious, dark fabric.

  “Oh, a falling star!” she said. “Quick. Make a wish.”

  Chapter 15

  IT WAS almost midnight and Scott lay looking out at the star-filled sky with a sleeping April nestled into his shoulder. The temperature had plunged in the last few hours. They were snug enough beneath the sheet, cotton thermal blanket, and woolen topper, but mainly because they were sharing body heat. He really should get up and close the big double doors.

  He always slept so much better out here, and it wasn’t entirely owing to the fresh air. This was one of the few places on earth where it felt like nothing cam
e between him and the stars.

  But he wasn’t alone tonight.

  Make a wish, she’d said. For once, he’d been tempted to wish he could stay. But what was the point of wishing for the impossible? Staying would require he be someone fundamentally different.

  Tenderly, he kissed her hair as she slept, taking the scent of her shampoo into his lungs. What the hell had he done? She was so lovely, beautiful through and through. He wouldn’t hurt her for the world—this woman who’d melted so perfectly into his arms.

  She sighed in her sleep, burrowing closer. And oh God, just that innocent sound made him harden.

  Easy. Give the girl a break.

  With the long days she put in, she needed her rest. She was up every morning at dawn, even back in Montreal. She worked damned hard. But it wasn’t just a physical strength and stamina she brought to her job; she put her whole heart into it. And yeah, he had to admit there was little else in this world more attractive than a woman engrossed in her personal passion.

  Passion. She had plenty of that. He suspected it had only grown stronger for all the years of denial. They way she’d spent herself so completely with him tonight… It humbled him.

  God, he was the luckiest man in the world.

  Or the biggest bastard.

  He eased himself out of bed, slowly and quietly so as to not disturb her.

  Brr. He was used to the cold, had put in winters in some of the world’s most frigid places. When he was twenty-two, he’d driven a bus in the Yukon, shuttling workers from camp to the job site in weather cold enough to freeze the tossed dregs of your hot coffee before it could hit the ground. It had never really bothered him. You just dressed for it, and made damned good and sure you didn’t get caught out in it.

  He reached for his jeans and tugged them on. A shiver persuaded him to shrug back into his shirt too.

  He padded to the window, his feet cold on the painted boards. Down below, the yard was quiet. Well, mostly quiet. As he watched, a skunk—its white stripe giving it away—waddled away from the lawn toward the apple orchards. He gave a silent thank you that Axl wasn’t out, and then another thank you when the yip of a coyote sounded from the brush-filled field across the road. Years ago, that might have been enough to rouse Axl from his sleep to give a warning growl. And if the noise persisted, he’d bark hard enough to wake the household. But these days, Axl’s hearing wasn’t what it used to be. Though sometimes he suspected the old dog only pretended not to hear, particularly when it involved a command to leave something alone.

  “Are you leaving?”

  At April’s soft voice, he turned. In the dim light, he could see she’d sat up in bed.

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t leave you here to wake up by yourself. But we should go in soon.”

  “Come back to bed for a while?”

  “I will. Just give me a sec.”

  He closed up the doors, then moved to locate the portable space heater. It was easy to find: just head toward the corner until his bare feet found the ceramic tile he’d laid down to insulate the old boards from the heat source. He found the electrical outlet and plugged the heater in. It came to immediate, glowing life. By its orange glow, he made his way back to the bed.

  “Looks like you’re occupying more than your share of the middle, Miss Morgan. I never pegged you for a bed hog.”

  “Undress.”

  At the sultriness in that single word, his heart leaped. But rather than reveal how powerfully her command had affected him, he just let his smile widen and reached for the buttons of his shirt.

  She didn’t smile back. Her eyes were too busy drinking him in as he stripped off his shirt. He shucked off his jeans and kicked them away to stand naked before her. She watched with avid interest as he crawled into bed beside her.

  She slid her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts into him and twining a leg with his. The heat from her body felt scorching against his cooler flesh.

  “You’ve got a second condom, right?”

  He could help but flex his hips against her. “I do.”

  “Can I put it on you this time?”

  “You absolutely can.”

  Chapter 16

  SIDNEY HAD been counting down the hours since breakfast. And the days since they’d agreed to stay with the Standishs.

  This was it—finally October 31st. She was pretty sure every kid at school would be coming to the party, at least for a bit.

  Danika had walked back to the Standish place with her after school. Sid’s mom had made them an early supper, and now Danika was in the upstairs bathroom down the hall, quietly singing a Katy Perry song as she applied the sparkles to her cheekbones and glitter to her piled high black curls. She’d raided her aunt’s makeup bag, and spent about ten bucks of her birthday money—Danika’s birthday was in October too—at the dollar store.

  Mid-tune, Danika changed to a Taylor Swift song. Most times, Sidney wouldn’t have minded her singing. In fact, she’d often urged her friend to sing louder. She had a beautiful voice and Sid figured she shouldn’t be shy about showing it off.

  But at that very moment, as Sidney sat at the top of the stairs straining to hear the conversation going on downstairs, she wished Danika would give it a rest. She knew she shouldn’t be doing it. Her mom would so not be impressed. She did not approve of eavesdropping, as she called it. But she literally couldn’t help it! All because of what she’d thought she’d heard a few moments ago—by accident—and what she was hoping to hear again.

  “There’s enough red licorice there for the next three Halloweens,” Scott said.

  There were six full boxes of it on the kitchen table, Sidney knew. She and Danika had lined all the late-donated treats up this afternoon, after they’d finished their homework. The slender boxes of licorice—donated by Arden’s friend from the pharmacy—were right there beside a larger box full of divinity fudge, compliments of a Mrs. Budaker, the lady who made those gingersnaps for Titus all the time.

  “Licorice?” Titus said. “Oh, man, keep that stuff away from Axl. Last time he got into red licorice, I was dealing with a vomiting dog in the middle of the night.”

  “I’ll tell him not to keep you up so late tonight.”

  “Me? No way. You’re home—you’re on dog duty. Where is he by the way?”

  “Up in Sidney’s room.”

  Yes!

  There it was again. She had heard it right the first time.

  Sidney’s room.

  Scott said it just now, and a few minutes ago when Ocean had called Titus on his cell, Titus had said practically the same thing: Hey, babe. Can’t wait to see you too. Yes, the girls are super excited. They’re up in Sid’s bedroom now getting their costumes on.

  She clenched her hands, restraining her giddiness.

  She couldn’t tell her mom. Not that she’d be mad, exactly. But she wouldn’t like it. Sidney bit her lip. She knew her mother didn’t want her to hope; didn’t want her to even wish it.

  “Tada!”

  Sidney turned to look at Danika. Her friend stood in the hallway now, striking her best sea queen pose—one hand on her hip, chin held high. In the other hand, she held an awesome trident, which was really a plastic devil’s pitchfork from the dollar store that they’d covered with tinfoil. She’d also attached a bunch of plastic fishes to her sea foam-green chiffon skirt using fishing line that was practically invisible. As she walked toward Sidney, the fishes clattered together.

  Sid stood. “You look awesome!”

  And she did. Everything was perfect—from the orange and white clownfish tucked into her hair to the matching orange sneakers on her feet. Then there were the fingernails—Sidney was pretty sure her friend wasn’t sporting those half-inch pearly green nails when she’d walked into the bathroom.

  “Wow! Are those press-ons?”

  Danika splayed her polished nails proudly. “Yup. Aunt Natalie’s. I love them! Aren’t they amazing?”

  “Totally. Especially for a sea queen.” />
  “Your turn. I can’t wait to see your costume!”

  “It’s so cool. You’re gonna love it.” She led her friend back into her room. “Ember helped me with it.”

  “Is she really a doctor?”

  “Ember? Yeah.”

  “And she’s setting up practice here? In Harkness? That’s what I heard.”

  “Yes.”

  “Dad was saying that was really good for the region.”

  Axl was lying on Ember’s bed. He lifted his head up then lay it back down on her cloud-covered comforter. He closed his tired eyes but thumped his tail all the same when Sidney stopped to pet him on the head.

  “Poor Axl. He looks tuckered right out.” Danika said.

  Sid giggled. “Tuckered right out?”

  “Exhausted. Really tired. Too pooped to party. Haven’t you ever heard that expression before?”

  “Nope.”

  Danika shrugged. “Maybe it’s a Harkness thing. Or an old people’s thing.”

  Sid moved her hand to scratch under Axl’s graying chin. “He’s really old. Scott got him when he was just a kid.”

  Danika sat on the edge of the bed and started scratching Axl behind the ear. The old dog practically squirmed in pleasure.

  “Honestly, I worry about him climbing the stairs so much. Sometimes, I try to sneak up here when he’s sleeping on his bed in the living room, but he always follows me. It’s like he has a sixth sense or something.”

  “My dad says dogs are kind of psychic,” Danika said. “But I think Axl does it just because he likes you.”

  “Buddy Boy’s like that with you,” Sidney said.

  Buddy Boy was Danika’s whippet. That dog could run like the wind. Poor Axl would be lamed up for a week if he tried to run even a little bit. Though she’d never say that in front of Axl. She wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings.

  “Yeah,” Danika said. “He’s a good dog.”

  “You’re so lucky. I wish I could have a dog.”

  “Maybe someday you will.”