by Tina Leonard
Blair stared at her. “He’s my son.”
Michael straightened. “You’re my daddy?”
Harper couldn’t remember when there had been a more cataclysmic, unfortunate, surreal time in her life. With the sparking, crumbling ruin of the Honeysuckle Bungalow behind them, and Blair awkwardly revealing that he was Michael’s father, Harper’s world spun strangely, stressfully, on a suddenly tilted axis. Declan’s hand pressed the small of her back, supporting her.
“Blair, this isn’t the time,” she said, but of course it was too late, because words had been spoken that couldn’t be taken back.
“Yes. I’m your father, Michael,” Blair said.
“Oh.” Michael nodded. “Can I go talk to Jimmy and Buzz, Mom?”
“I’ll take him,” Declan said quickly, clearly wanting to give her and Blair some time to discuss their new relationship.
“I’ll take him, sport,” Blair said. “Whatever your relationship to Harper is isn’t any of my business. But this is my son.” He put Michael’s shoes on him. Together, they walked hand in hand over to the fire truck where several of the men were now standing around talking.
“Oh, my God,” Harper said. “I don’t even know what to say. I want to say that obnoxious son-of-a-gun, but I guess there was no reason he would know that I’d never told Michael about him.”
“Maybe.” Declan pulled her into his arms. “I’m glad you and Michael are safe. I think I nearly had heart failure when I got the call.” He kissed her temple, and Harper relaxed into his arms, breathing him in.
“You scared me! I didn’t think about you being part of the volunteer fire department.”
“We’re all part of it,” Declan said. “That’s how we get to fires so quickly. Those who live in town or close by can get anywhere that needs help pretty quick. We take fire training every once in a while, have group planning sessions and drills. Keep our equipment up to date.”
“I’ve heard about that. I just figured you were safe at home with your shoulder where you need to be. How do you fight a fire with your shoulder? Or even drive?” She gazed up at him. “You’re not supposed to be driving.”
“And you’re not supposed to pack and leave my house without a good reason.” He sighed. “Harper, come back, you and Michael. I’d feel so much better if I was keeping an eye on you.”
She looked into his eyes. “Because of the fire?”
“Because of your ex showing up.” He sighed. “How much of a bastard does it make me that I want Michael’s father to head out as soon as possible?”
“It’s hard,” Harper admitted. She gazed at that smoking black mess that was once the bungalow. “I don’t even know Blair anymore. That’s what’s hard. I have to trust this man that I haven’t seen in years with my son.”
It was the hardest thing of all. For all the times she’d wished Michael had a father who cared to be part of his life, now she wasn’t entirely comfortable. “I guess I’d like to know why he’s chosen now to show up.”
“Stay with me tonight. You have a home with me, for as long as you need it.”
She wanted that, more than anything. Her gaze wandered over to the men, who’d gathered in front of the Honeysuckle Bungalow, her son in the thick of things, gazing up at the men as they discussed the fire.
“So what happened?” Declan asked.
“I’m not sure. There was an explosion, and I ran into the room, and then the drapes caught fire. It was in flames in seconds.”
“Yeah. It was a pretty old house.” He glanced at the group of men. “You haven’t seen Fallon by chance, have you?”
“No. I saw Jake the Snake, and the other Horsemen. But not Fallon.”
He glanced around again. “Will you be all right?”
She looked up at him. “Are you going to go search him out?”
“I’m responsible for him.” Declan looked disgusted by this, and Harper smiled.
“I’m sure you’ll do a very good job of it.”
He kissed her lips, slowly, almost as if he were savoring her. “Come back tonight. I’ll get some doughnuts for the morning.”
“I can’t pass that up,” she teased.
He kissed her again, tasting her, stealing her breath—then walked toward the group of men clustered in front of the burned bungalow.
Did Declan think Fallon had thrown the firework through the window? Was that why he was suddenly so anxious about his brother? Harper didn’t think Fallon would pull this kind of stunt. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would deliberately try to harm a small child.
Although pranks weren’t technically supposed to burn down houses, or hurt people. A prank was something someone did that was funny.
This wasn’t funny at all.
“I thought you said he isn’t your boyfriend,” Blair said, returning to stand with her.
She looked at him. “What difference does it make to you?”
“I’m trying to figure out why you live in this backwater town. The last thing I expected was to find my son in a place that has no real fire department, and no education system, Harper. And I heard the men over there discussing the fact that that man you were just kissing has recently been shot by something they called a compound bow and arrow.” He looked a trifle angry, and Harper couldn’t blame him—even as she resented his proprietary attitude. “I feel like I’ve walked into the wild, wild west of old. All it’s missing is a few bank and train robbers. Maybe even a few saloon girls walking the streets.”
She wanted to tell Blair that he was being unreasonable—but of course, he really wasn’t. If the situation was reversed, and she was the parent who was being introduced to this way of life and the quirks in its eclectic community, she’d be concerned, too. “I understand your feelings. But Michael is happy here.”
“Because he doesn’t know any better. But Harper, there’s a world out there with private school education, and real doctors that aren’t called Dr. Ann by the local populace, who do everything from stitching up your wounds to peering in your ear, whether you’re old or young, or whatever. He should be seeing a pediatrician.”
Harper stared at Blair, knowing he was right in so many ways.
The thing was, she’d come here to help Hell grow. That was why Judy had brought the team on in the first place. Oh, she’d said it was about female bullfighters—and she’d been deadly serious about that—but in the end, the team had been a way to convince families and investment to come to Hell. “My job is here,” she said stiffly. “I took this job because I wanted Michael to grow up in a small town environment. I hadn’t heard from you for years, and you’d offered no support. I made decisions I thought were best for both of us.”
“I get that. I’m sorry I wasn’t more help. But the thing is,” Blair said, “I’m ready to be a father. I’m ready to help you, and especially Michael, have a better life. This can’t be all you want for him.” He gestured toward the burned-out hull of the bungalow. “If that’s the kind of ‘pranks’ that are played here, it’s not any place for a child, Harper. There aren’t even any other kids his age in this town.”
Harper nodded. “That’s true.”
“So you’ll come live at our family compound. Or I’ll get you and Michael a nice apartment in a safe neighborhood with a real school, and kids that live nearby that he can be on sports teams with.”
Harper looked at him. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I told myself I’d just come meet my son. That I wanted to know what he was like, before I became the head of my father’s company. Dad’s getting up there, is ready to start looking for a successor. But then I met Michael, and I see how he’s living, and I can’t leave knowing this is how he’s growing up.”
“Believe it or not, it’s a nice place to live.”
“No. No it’s not. There’s a reason this town is called Hell, Harper. And I’m embarrassed and sad for my son that he’s subjected to this, because I didn’t step up long
ago.”
It was all very generous—but it wasn’t what Harper wanted.
“I’ll think about it,” she said. “Right now, I’m taking him to go to bed.”
“With the Marlboro Man?” Blair asked.
“There’s only so much about my life I’m going to answer,” Harper said. “If you’re concerned about Michael, fine. Nothing else is up for discussion.”
“Do you think it’s the right message to send to your son? You sleeping with a strange man in a house where Michael is?”
“No worse than Michael finding out he has a father who never cared to show up before.”
Blair shook his head. “I’ll be in Hawk if you change your mind. Otherwise, I’ll be back tomorrow. I’d like to take Michael into town to buy some clothes.”
“You’ll have to buy them in Hawk. We don’t have a clothing store here. Yet.” She shrugged. “But it’s really not necessary.”
“Since all his clothes and toys just burned, I think it is.” Blair scowled. “I’ll pick him up at eleven. Where can I meet you?”
“At Redfeather's,” she said with a sigh. “If you’re going to be offended by our town, you might as well eat a meal here.”
“I can’t wait,” he said, his tone sardonic.
“You’ve waited years,” Harper said, and walked away.
* * *
“Holy hell!” Winter pulled into the Honky-tonk parking lot, making her way to the trailer area as fast as she could. “That was messed up!”
“I don’t understand why the bungalow caught on fire,” Cassidy said. “It just went up like a torch.”
“We should tell the sheriff we did it,” Micaela said. “Maybe if we confess it, and tell them the truth, that it was just a joke, they might let us off with good behavior and maybe community service.”
“Not me. I’m not going back to reform school,” Winter said.
“We’re too old for that,” Cassidy said. “This time it’ll be jail for us.”
“And a court won’t look too friendly on us because we’ve already done some time.”
“Screw that. I’m never going to jail.” The very thought made chills run over Winter’s skin. “I’m never getting locked up again.”
“They’re going to find out it was us,” Micaela warned.
“And with our luck, they’ll then figure that we were the ones who shot Declan.” Cassidy got out of the truck, slammed the door. “That’s going to be the logical conclusion.”
“Yeah, except we didn’t do that.” Winter felt herself shaking. “Man, we’re in a big pile of trouble!”
Chapter Twenty
“I’m going in there,” Declan told Dark Demon, who was guarding the red doors of the Honky-tonk like they were secret gates to Hell. “You can either let me in, or I destroy this place.”
“Can’t do it. In fact, I’ll taze you if necessary, my friend.” Demon grinned. “Nothing personal, of course.”
Declan knew his twin was in there. He hadn’t heard from him in hours—not since they’d gone out yesterday to see the old man. Fallon had mentioned to him that he had an invitation to the wild, mystical pleasures beyond the red doors. Fallon wouldn’t have missed any excitement in town—and certainly not a fire taking out Trace’s Honeysuckle Bungalow—so Declan knew his brother had decided to cash in his pleasure chip.
“Move,” he told Dark Demon, and Demon grinned. He was joined by two more meatheads, menacing and strong, blocking passage through the door. Couples danced on the floor, boot-scooting or just swaying, the music thumping, smoke hazing the room. Nobody was paying attention to them, not even Ivy, who sat on top of the bar, calling out encouragement every once in a while to patrons at the bar taking shots. College kids, Declan thought with disgust, coming to spend their parents’ money sucking up Ivy’s tequila or whatever, and maybe getting laid in the process. “If you don’t let me through those doors, we’re going to have a major fuck-up going on.”
“With a hurt shoulder?” Demon looked at him almost kindly. “I heard the surgeon had to put you back together as carefully as Humpty-Dumpty needed Grade A attention from all the king’s men.”
His meathead buddies found that funny.
“Grade A,” one said, “like an egg.”
“My shoulder’s fine,” Declan said, ignoring the truth. “This is an extraction mission. I’m going in to get my brother—or you’re going to bring him out.”
“Don’t think he’d appreciate that,” Demon said, “if in fact we had your brother here, which as I’m sure you’re aware, we can neither confirm nor deny.”
“I don’t give a damn what you do, except move,” Declan said pleasantly. “Ivy! Move these meatheads, or there’s going to be trouble!”
He shouted loud enough to be heard over the music and the chatter. Ivy turned her head, her eyes glittering as she looked at him. Slowly, seductively, she slid down from the bar, slinking her way over to him. “Are you upsetting my bodyguards, Declan?”
“Either you go in and bring my brother out, or I go in. If neither of those things happen, I tell Steel you’re the one who shot me.”
Ivy’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “And how would you know that?”
“It seems to be the prevailing opinion of local gossip. In Hell, the gossip usually contains pretty good facts. Facts I can turn over to Steel,” Declan said, immediately leaning in hard once he realized Ivy hadn’t denied shooting him.
He suddenly felt a hand at his back. Turned and saw Harper.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“You seemed pretty preoccupied about Fallon,” Harper whispered so Ivy couldn’t here. “Didn’t you always say never go into a mission without backup? I’m your backup. We’re in this together.”
He couldn’t help grinning. She was so cute and sexy thinking she was going to protect him. “Really, I’m okay. Ivy’s going to let me in this door, and everything’s going to be just fine. Right, Ivy?”
Ivy raised a brow at Harper. “Where’s your son and your baby daddy?”
“None of your damn business,” Harper said sweetly, but that didn’t make Declan feel a whole lot better.
“Harper, I don’t need backup. You should be with—”
She bumped him with her knee to silence him. “If you think I’m going to let you go into a pleasure palace full of beautiful, naked women alone, you don’t know me very well.”
He laughed, he couldn’t help it. She was just so darn confident and spunky. How could he not adore that?
Winter, Micaela, and Cassidy came inside, headed straight to Harper.
“We saw your truck,” Winter said. “Harper, we have to talk to you.”
“I’m busy at the moment.” Harper gazed into Declan’s eyes before turning to Ivy. “Your team is here, Ivy. They’re looking for guidance. Declan and I are going in to bring Fallon out.”
“I don’t think so,” Ivy said, and to Declan’s shock, Harper kneed Dark Demon a good one in the groin.
“Run!” she told Declan, and Declan grabbed her, pulling her through the doorway with him. “Hurry!” she gasped. “The girls can only hold Ivy and the bouncers back so long!”
He didn’t know what to make of that, but he obeyed, charging down an amazing hall he couldn’t stop to admire. His gaze searched out the closed black doors. “Fallon!” he bellowed.
“Fallon!” Harper cried, and smashed her backpack against one of the sconces that lit the hallway, sending the elaborate light fixture crashing to the floor. Doors opened at the loud noise incongruous amongst the soft, seductive music—and Declan spied his brother lounging on a leather sofa in the middle of about ten of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.
“No!” Harper said, smacking the hand of a darling redhead reaching out to caress Declan’s chest. “Do that again and you’ll draw back a nub. Come on, Declan!”
He was feeling slightly woozy, but he followed her willingly to his brother’s side. “Fallon, it’s time to cash out, brot
her.”
Fallon gazed up at him. Declan was astonished to see that his brother was fully dressed, lacking only a shirt. The women around him seemed disappointed, even alarmed that their hunk was about to be sprung from their trap.
“Hi, Declan,” Fallon said. “Hey, Harper.” He looked completely relaxed, everything right in his world, his hair slightly askew from being caressed by seductive hands—but then he suddenly sat up. “Winter!”
Declan watched with amazement as Winter batted all the women away from the chaise, put a shoulder underneath Fallon’s arm. “Help me get him up,” she told Harper, and Harper jumped to do her bidding.
Ivy came in the room at that second, followed by her brace of bodyguards. “Get out!”
“We’re going,” Declan said. “Get the hell out of our way.”
“Not him. He stays.” She pointed to Fallon. “You can’t take him. Fallon asked for this; he earned it. He wanted to be here. So back off.”
“Ow!” Fallon exclaimed, jumping a little, and Declan realized one of the women holding him up must have pinched him. “Ah, I’m ready to leave, Ivy.”
Ivy’s gaze narrowed as she looked at Harper, then Winter. “What about our deal?”
“I think the deal is off.” Fallon shook his head as if he were trying to clear it. “In fact, I want my money back.”
“Your money!” Ivy glared at him. “We had a deal!”
“Like I said, the deal is off. Brother, clear a path for these two charming and beautiful women who are trying to take me home with them.”
“But you’ve been in here for hours!” Ivy said. “You can’t just take my services and renege on our deal.”
“See, here’s the thing, Ivy. I think this pleasure palace thing might be overrated.” He nuzzled Winter’s cheek, who seemed quite disgusted by his antics. “I never got the pleasure,” he told Ivy.
“I don’t believe you. I’ve never, ever had any client complain.” Declan didn’t think he’d ever seen Ivy angrier.
