by Abby Brooks
He was glad that he was in his room, alone in the dark for no one to see because the smile that stretched across his face was too wide, too goofy, too completely excited about getting a text from Willow. He tapped out a reply.
Me neither. My mind’s on fire. What’s got you up? He hoped that he was the reason that she was up in the same way the she was the reason he was up and knew he was completely selfish for feeling that way.
Too quiet. :)
Her response crushed him, but a second text came in right on its heels.
Plus, I can’t stop thinking about you.
Don’t want to stop thinking about you.
What is it about you?
A rush of adrenaline flooded Harry’s system. If he had any chance of falling asleep, it just flew out the window while he read her words.
I could say the same thing about you.
Well, why don’t you?
Harry thought for a moment about what he really wanted to say. I’ve never met anyone like you. I feel like I’ve known you forever but it’s only been a few days. I want to know everything about you but feel like somehow I already know the answers to the questions I’d ask...
Yes! Same!
Like when I met you, something in my life changed. He hit send and immediately wished he hadn’t and counted the heart-pounding seconds until he got a reply.
I feel the same. What is this? Is this how you Moores catch your women?
You know it. We just walk up to strange women and they become putty in our hands.
Well, now it all makes some kind of sense. Phew. And here I thought something monumental was happening…
Harry couldn’t have stopped the smile on his face if his life depended on it. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Same.
Well, I should let you get some sleep. He said it, but of course he didn’t mean it. He could talk to her all night and feel good about it.
Ha! Like I’ll be able to sleep while wondering what you look like naked!
Goodnight, Harry.
Sleep tight.
Harry sat up on his elbow at her last text and read it over and over again. Willow was thinking about him naked? Knowing that just obliterated any chance of falling asleep.
10
Willow looked across the cabin of Ian’s truck at Juliet behind the wheel. There was something so funny about Juliet driving a truck. The New York Julz was all pencil skirts and business suits. Sleek hair and power lunches. Go go go and rush rush rush and more more more. To see her dwarfed by the steering wheel of a monstrous pickup that claimed more than its fair share of the lane was something.
“A year ago, if you had told me I’d be letting you drive me anywhere in a monstrous beast like this, I’d have laughed and asked what kind of drugs you were on and where I could get some.”
“I know!” Juliet turned to her, a wide smile making her already pretty face absolutely stunning. “Life sure is full of surprises.” Juliet gave her attention back to the road. “I’m so happy out here. I miss you, of course, but I really feel like I’ve found where I belong.”
A weird pang of jealousy stabbed Willow in the chest. “I’m really glad you’re in such a good place.” For some reason those words tasted bitter and Willow couldn’t figure out why. Sure, she missed Juliet something awful, but she wouldn’t wish her back to New York at the expense of all she had here in Bliss. Guilt chased the bitterness out of her system. Whatever that was about, she would have to figure it out later.
“So,” said Juliet with a bit of impish laughter lightening her voice. “Are you excited for tonight?”
Willow’s heart started pounding and she didn’t think she could speak without giving away just how excited she really was. “Yes,” she finally managed.
“I’ll tell you what, by the sound of it, I don’t think I’ll have to miss you much longer. It’ll just be a matter of time until you’re living down here with me. Well, I’m sure you’ll be living with Harry, but since we’ll be in the same town again, and sister-in-laws and everything...” Juliet glanced over, a teasing look on her face.
A surge of excitement had Willow beaming before reality crashed into her. She couldn’t move here. There was nothing for her to do here in Bliss. She didn’t have any skills other than ballet and there weren’t any companies out here to dance for. And she was so established at ACB, so close to getting promoted to principal dancer. Even if Harry did ask her to stay with him, she just couldn’t. She was nothing outside of New York.
She had to stifle a laugh. What the fuck was she thinking? Here she was planning how to handle Harry’s possible invitation to move down here with him and she hadn’t even known the guy for a whole week yet. Her dad always said she spent too much time living in the future and not enough time experiencing the present. That she needed to stop planning and start living. Maybe it’s time that she took that advice to heart. Stop worrying and start experiencing. She shook her head at the sheer foolishness of worrying about moving in with a guy three days after she met him.
Juliet chatted happily about the last minute wedding details as they drove the rest of the way to Harry’s and Willow inserted the appropriate ooh’s and ahhh’s when necessary. When they pulled into Harry’s driveway her jaw hit the floor. “Damn,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “This house.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it? I’ve never been sure which one I like more, Ian’s—well, ours,” she said and smiled widely. “Or this one.”
“He’s got good taste, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t think you could survive a childhood with Frank and Diane Moore as your parents without coming out of it with a sense of style. Even James’s house is something, even if it is one of those big modern monstrosities,” she said as Willow climbed out of the truck.
Willow had chosen a simple black dress made of flowing fabric with a scoop back for the evening and paired it with a great pair of high-heeled sandals and some simple jewelry. She let her hair air dry so it had some texture and pulled it back in a messy up-do. The plan was to look simple and sophisticated, without looking too overdone. Kind of like the decor in Moore Good Eats.
She waved goodbye to Juliet and took a breath before stepping up to Harry’s door. One little errant thought raced through her head, one bit of worry about what she was doing here tried to settle into the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it away. I’m focusing on the present, she reminded herself. Not living in my thoughts of the future.
She rang the bell and didn’t have to wait long for Harry to open the door. He was barefoot and wearing a thin t-shirt and a pair of loose sweat pants and somehow managing to look like he belonged on the cover of GQ. He leaned against the door frame and smiled. “Hey.”
“Wow. I am totally overdressed.” Willow looked down at her outfit in horror.
“No way. You look amazing.” He straightened and gestured for her to enter. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Willow felt like jumping up and down and clapping her hands like a child, but managed to keep it cool. “Oh yeah? Like what?” She stepped into his home and took a moment to appreciate the interior. Apparently, Harry had a sense of style and had taken the time to actually decorate. This was not a typical bachelor’s pad.
“Damn,” he said. “That dress!”
She smiled and turned in a slow circle before coming to a stop facing him. “You like?”
“Hell yeah I do.”
Harry reached out and grabbed her waist, pulled her in close, pressing her body against his, and kissed her. His fingers traced her back, an explosion of goosebumps racing out away from the heat of skin against skin. She parted her lips and invited him to deepen his kiss, which he did, his tongue dipping into her mouth before he pulled away long before she was ready. “About that,” he said, his mouth still so very close to hers. “I’ve been thinking about that all day.”
He kissed her again. His lips warm and supple against hers. He tasted like peppermint.
�
�I can’t wait to find out what else you’ve been thinking about all day,” she said suggestively and tried not to show how shocked she was with herself for saying something like that.
What are you doing? asked her inner worrier.
Living in the present, she answered.
Harry traced his fingers up her back again. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“Oh, no. That’s totally you.” Not wanting to seem like she was just here for a booty call, Willow stepped out of his arms. “This place is amazing. It’s not at all like I expected and everything I expected at the same time.” Kind of like you, she finished in her head.
“What in the world does that mean?” he asked as he took her arm and guided her down a hallway towards the kitchen.
“Well, you’re a guy. Living alone. I would expect bare walls and beer signs. Or no art anywhere. Or ugly as sin furniture surrounding a state of the art entertainment center. But, this place is gorgeous, with actual thought into what goes where and how it all goes together. Which is something I’d expect from you.”
“Are you saying I decorate like a woman?” Harry flashed her a playful smile and Willow laughed.
“I guess that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Well, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” Harry leaned in and she got a good whiff of his cologne. “My sister decorated the place.”
“Ahh. The infamous Lilah.”
He nodded and pulled a cutting board out of a drawer. “Yes, the infamous Lilah,” he said as he opened the fridge and started pulling veggies out.
“What can I do?” Willow asked. She wasn’t used to being waited on and had no idea what to do with herself.
“You can have a seat and pour us some wine.” He gestured to a large breakfast bar with an open bottle of red wine and two glasses before he gathered his ingredients and deposited them there. “So,” he said, and made an apologetic face. “I have to admit that I Googled you.”
Willow swallowed hard and poured the wine. She really didn’t want to talk about work and the only thing a Google search about her was going to bring up was a bunch of stuff about work. “Oh yeah? What did you find?”
“That you’re impressive as all hell, but I didn’t need the videos to prove that to me. I already knew.”
She blushed and bit her lip before taking a sip of wine. “Thank you.” She watched his knife fly across the cutting board and waited for the inevitable questions to come. “I have to admit,” she said when Harry stayed silent. “I didn’t feel the need to Google you.”
His knife stilled. “Really? Why not?”
“Well, in part it’s because I feel like I already know you. But also because I want to learn about the stuff I don’t know by being with you.” She watched a blush flare up Harry’s cheeks and he paused his flurry of knife work to take a sip of wine.
“I wonder if Juliet’s gonna mind if I steal her maid of honor for the last couple days before her wedding. Something tells me that I’m going to want to spend every possible hour I can with you.”
Willow definitely liked the sound of that. She would be totally fine with spending each and every second here in Bliss at Harry’s side. “I don’t know,” she said. “Julz is pretty low maintenance. She’s never been one to make a big deal about things.”
“How did you two meet?”
Willow explained how they had stumbled across each other at a party thrown by a donor for the ballet, a man who just happened to be Juliet’s boss. “When I found out her name was Juliet, I just knew we were destined to be friends.”
“Because of her name?”
“Oh yeah. It was like a big pulsing neon sign telling me that she was supposed to be in my life.”
“How so?” Harry looked genuinely confused.
Willow steeled herself for this revelation. He was either going to totally get it or totally think she was crazy. “Because my most favorite ballet of all time is Romeo and Juliet. Not because of the story,” she added hastily, not wanting to sound like a fluffy-headed romantic. “The story is fine, although a little unbelievable. But the music?” Willow took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The music is just absolutely…” She flared her hands. “I never have a word strong enough to describe what it does to me.”
Harry was frozen. Just staring at her. “Prokofiev or Tchaikovsky?”
“What?” Those names made sense to her, but she was astounded to hear him use them.
“Whose Romeo and Juliet? Prokofiev’s or Tchaikovsky’s?”
“Prokofiev. Tchaikovsky is too…” She waved her hand. “Fluffy,” she finally said. “And it’s only a symphonic poem…” She stopped talking as Harry left the kitchen and disappeared into the living room. A few seconds later, the lilting strings of the introduction filled the house and Willow closed her eyes, trying hard to swallow against the emotion the music caused in her. The lump in her throat. The tears pricking at her eyes. All of it made all the more intense to know that she was at Harry’s house and that he was playing it for her.
Her hand rose to her chest and she opened her eyes to find him leaning on the counter, watching her, his own eyes glistening. “It’s my favorite too, but you have to promise not to tell my brothers.”
Holy, hell. How many hints that she needed to pay attention to this guy could the Universe possibly drop?
11
Harry finished cooking while Willow listened to the familiar strains of the music. Turns out he was at least part typical guy and he did have a killer entertainment system. It almost sounded as good as hearing the symphony perform live. He barely spoke as he cooked, which was good, because she might not have been able to bear trying to take in the music and his voice and the growing certainty that Harry Moore was going to change everything. That she was going to look back on this week and know that this was the moment when her life’s purpose became visible.
He showed her each ingredient as he added it to the meal, which she appreciated. All in all, it was going to fall right into her official list of Acceptable Dinners. Maybe a little higher in fat than she would typically go, but he used healthy fats, so she didn’t feel too bad about it. And when she took a bite, she didn’t feel too bad about it at all.
“This is delicious,” she murmured around a bite of some of the juiciest chicken she had ever eaten.
Harry put a finger to his lips. “Shhh,” he said, nodding towards the speaker. “This is the best part.”
And Willow had to admit that it really was.
* * *
They finished dinner and did the dishes in a silent dance around the kitchen. It reminded Willow of the first time they met, except this time, whenever Harry came near, he made sure to touch her.
A hand on her back.
A brush of his finger on her shoulder.
A bump of his hip against hers.
They finished the dishes during the music for the balcony scene. Willow leaned back against the counter and closed her eyes again, awash in the memories of the choreography and the rich emotions the sweet melody carved out of her soul. Just as the moment for Romeo and Juliet’s first kiss drew near, she became aware of Harry standing next to her. She opened her eyes and found him smiling down at her and damn if he didn’t touch his lips to hers just when the music called for it.
She pressed against him and it was as if her heart and her body and her soul opened themselves to him. As if he was now part of her and she was now part of him and she would never be complete without him at her side. The rush of emotions was so intense, so powerful. It was like looking at the face of God and understanding the meaning of life.
She ran her hands up his back and dug her fingernails into the corded muscles near his shoulders, needing him to be closer to her than he was. Needing more points of contact between them. Of all the signs in the world, this one had to be the biggest. The boldest. The Universe was trying to tell her something, to make it so clear that she would be a fool to try and ignore it.
She was for
Harry and Harry was for her and that was all there was to it. Life plans be damned. Career goals or not. She belonged in his arms.
Harry finally ended the kiss and that’s when Willow realized tears were falling down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern tightening his voice.
“I’m sorry. It’s nothing. It’s the music. And you. And … have you ever seen the ballet?” She indicated the sound system in the living room with a little jerk of her head.
“No. I’ve never been to the ballet.”
So he didn’t even know when the kiss was supposed to happen. It was just one more sign in a long list of signs. How could she ignore them all?
“We’re doing it in February,” she said, trying to bring her thoughts back down to the realm of reality.
Harry looked confused. “Huh?”
“The ballet. American City Ballet is performing it.” She shrugged. For some reason, talking about reality didn’t feel all that great.
“Oh yeah?” Harry stepped back and gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“You should come.” She swallowed. “I would really love it if you would come.”
Harry ran a finger down her cheek. “Then I wouldn’t miss if for the world. But, if you’ll forgive me, I’d rather focus on the here and now, where you’re here, with me. I don’t want to think about you leaving. Not yet.”
Willow couldn’t help but agree. “I honestly don’t want to think about leaving either. And we still have most of the week in front of us.” So I have plenty of time to finish falling in love with you.
“Would you like to go for a walk with me?” Harry asked.
“Now? It’s dark.”
“Yep. And I bet you’ve never seen stars like the ones that are out tonight. We’ll grab a bottle of wine and a blanket and walk along the beach until you’re ready to sit and we’ll just get a little drunk and talk and watch the stars.”
