by T. I. Lowe
“Don’t mind me. I’m enjoying the show.”
I look over and see we’ve captured Jack’s full attention.
“Dang, darlin’. Naughty, naughty, naughty.” Jack tsks while wagging his finger in mock scolding.
My cheeks flush, but I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or slight embarrassment. I direct my wobbly focus back to Beck. “I think I’ve drunk a little too much.”
Beck’s gorgeous blue eyes roll. “You think?” He taps my thighs before helping me to stand. With an arm braced around my waist to prevent me from slithering back to the floor, Beck looks down at Jack. “I got a good mind to just leave you there.”
Jack grins his pretty grin. “I’m fine right here to wait my turn in the shower. Or… we could all fit in the tub at once and conserve water.”
Beck props me against the counter and before I know what’s happened, he’s yanked Jack up off the floor by the collar of his wrinkled dress shirt. “You think you’re cute—”
“Harper thinks so, too.” Jack grins again and that’s when he gets Beck’s fist to the mouth. Moaning, Jack cups his mouth with both hands.
“That’s just a warning tap. Now get yourself still somewhere and shut it, if you know what’s best for you.” Beck doesn’t wait for a reply, and Jack has wised up enough to not give one.
Before I can chide him for hurting my buddy, Beck cradles me in his arms and moves us to the bathroom. After placing me on my feet, he turns the shower on and adjusts the nobs.
Watching him, I lift my arm and sniff my armpit. “Do you think I stink?”
He turns back to me, his eyes assessing. “Besides the bourbon you seemed to have sprayed on like perfume, no.”
“Then why I gotta shower?” I sway a bit, but he grasps my waist to steady me.
“I’m hoping it’ll sober you up.”
I tsk with a head shake. “Nope. Not gonna work.”
“Won’t hurt to try.” He rubs circles along my back, making me melt against him.
“That’s what I thought before that one class of yours. I googled it and that heifer told me it’s a waste of time, ’cause only time can sober a person.” I look up and find a smirk painted on his fine lips.
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah. I tried everything that morning. Long hot shower, a whole pot of coffee… Do you recall it helping me, ’cause I was too drunk to remember?”
I wait for him to tell me I’m right. Instead, he suddenly hoists me up and places me underneath the freezing spray of the shower, soaking my clothes instantly.
Shrieking and hunting an escape, I chatter out, “Cold, cold, cold!”
“Stay,” he orders before slamming the shower door shut.
“I’m not a dog!” I yell, cowering in the back corner to avoid the icy pelts.
“No. You’re a drunken mess. Wash up.” He points to the soap that will put me back into the line of ice water to retrieve it. “Now!” he yells before leaving me alone in the bathroom.
Bracing myself for the frigid attack, I dance over and fiddle with the hot setting until the water warms. I make quick work of stripping off the saturated clothes and washing the booze away. I turn the shower off and dry off. After pulling on a nightshirt, I yank the door open and find Mr. Bossy Pants standing in the way.
Leaning into the curve of my neck, Beck inhales deeply. “Mmm… Now you smell like my Harper again and not a distillery.”
The slight sting of his teeth nipping my skin sends a burst of tingles to spread along my body. “I want you to stay with me.”
He grunts before stepping back. “Not tonight.”
“Why not?” I snap, feeling insecure and maybe a little guilty for showing out. I run my fingers through my wet hair to work the knots loose and maybe some of the tension. “You wanna give me a holy roller lecture on my sin before you run off?”
“No. You’re upset. I may not agree with how you’re trying to deal with it, but I’ll be here to help you through it when you’re ready.”
“Why? I don’t get you!” I throw my hands in the air before letting them slap against my hips.
“Would you rather I belittle you? Ignore your hurt?”
“That’s the normal standard for religious folks.”
“I’m not into the normal standard.” His voice presents hoarsely.
I catch the subtle roll of his throat as he swallows and glances away. I reach out and cradle his cheek in my hand, but he keeps his face turned toward the door.
“I know. I’m sorry for snapping at you... And for putting you through this mess.”
His eyes lock back on me. “You need to get a handle on your insecurities. You also need to realize you’re the one who is playing judge all the time with slinging up my faith in my face and painting it falsely with the holy-roller jabs.” Shrugging my hand away, he starts pacing the room.
Now I feel like a total jerk. “Beck—”
“This is a conversation for when you’re sober.” He steps over, takes my hand, and leads me over to the bed. “I need to go check on your girlfriend, so please be good and go to bed.”
I sprawl out on top of the fluffy blankets and place my arms over my head and pretend we didn’t just go so heavy. “Jack won’t bother us.” I think I even pull off a wink.
“Not happening, babe.” Beck tucks me under the covers and heads to the door after a sweet goodnight’s kiss.
“Please don’t hit him anymore. That’s not nice,” I say on a yawn while snuggling into the covers.
“I’m not making any promises,” he counters before flipping the light switch off.
Alone in the dark, exhaustion begins weighing my body down. As the dizzy day echoes around the room, I give in to it and close my eyes.
Chapter Thirteen
Everything was amusing last night. Fun even. But as light from the midday sun flints through the windows, it shows the glaring truth. Nothing feels amusing now. The darkness of night and the alcohol goggles made it easy to overlook. If the pounding at my temples and this bad case of cotton mouth aren’t enough evidence, the scene outside drives the fact home. A horde of intruders are still camped out on the front sidewalk. I shuffle to the French doors and see the beach littered with them as well.
I thought I was caged in by Maxine, but she has nothing on these creepers. I’m about to slink back to bed with hopes of waking up later on the right side of things, but stop when glimpsing a familiar woman pushing a double-stroller through the reporters. She stops by each one and hands them some sort of paper.
“What the…” I croak, stirring a sleeping Jack. He rolls over and slings a leg over the back of the couch and goes back to softly snoring. Shaking my head, I rush to the bedroom to pull on a hoodie and a pair of sunshades.
I rush back to the French doors, crack one open, and hiss out, “Nadine.” When she doesn’t look in my direction, I do it again to no avail.
I helplessly watch on as she hands over a paper to some guy with a giant camera around his neck. She moves to the side of the house, so I storm through the den and on to the foyer with hopes of catching her. Peeping out the blinds, I find her doing the same thing in the front yard.
“What are you up to?” I mutter, while opening the front door a smidgen. “Nadine.” When she doesn’t acknowledge me, I whisper yell, “Nadine!”
She glances in my direction this time, but pushes the stroller over to another group and keeps on her mission. I’m ready to add her to the list!
I chance stepping onto the porch and yell, “Nadine, get your butt in here!” Then, like the coward I am, I run back into the house with my chest heaving in panic. One glimpse between the blinds confirms the barrel of each camera directed to the front porch. I hold my breath until Nadine wrangles the stroller up the steps and to the door. I yank it open long enough for her to hurry in before slamming it and securing every lock. The loud commotion provokes a painful whimper from the den, but I’m feeling a bit spiteful at the moment and can’t help but smile with knowing I c
aused Jack some discomfort. As I’ve already expressed, I’m not finding things amusing like last night.
Turning to face my other so-called friend, I narrow my eyes at her after shucking the shades and tossing them onto the entrance table. “What the hell-o,” I stutter out when I notice two pairs of sparkling eyes peeping up at me from the stroller. Oh wow. They look like real-life baby dolls with mops of chocolate curls and ruddy cheeks. I blink away the trance they put me under and mutter to their mom, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Beck sent me a picture of you and asked I make this flyer.” Nadine offers me one of the soft blue papers.
I brace myself, but let out a sigh of relief when seeing the picture is of me leaning against the rail of the deck a few weeks back. It was at sunset and the evening breeze had my curls dancing around my face while I laughed at something Beck had just said. He was particularly playful that day, and I had no idea he captured the moment in a photo. It was a good moment to capture.
I pull my focus away from the photo in the center of the paper and read the caption.
Harper Blume
Brilliant Beauty Behind
The Breakers Series
“Why would he ask you to do this?”
Nadine hands one of her baby dolls, the oldest, a sippy cup. “I run a small stationary business from home, and he wanted to give the reporters what they’re here to get so maybe they’ll leave you alone.”
“Oh,” I mumble, surprised he’d put this much effort in having my back. First he beats up Jack and now this.
“Do you mind if we come in?” Nadine asks while glancing around the foyer.
“Uhh… Jack is on the couch.”
She shrugs her shoulder and points the stroller in that direction. “Okay.”
I reach out and stop her. “He’s sleeping.”
“Oh.” A wry smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. “Watch the kiddos for a sec.”
“All of my friends are troublemakers,” I mumble, knowing all only equals two, but what are the odds of winding up with a pair so similar. The things that woman has said over a cup of coffee. I’d almost swear I was talking to a female version of Jack. He met up with us last week and it was quite entertaining to listen to the both of them firing off back and forth. I guess being in the military, a woman has to be able to hold her own, and Nadine certainly knows how.
Shrugging that silliness off, I look down at the toddler and infant. Oddly enough, it’s the first time I’ve met the little cuties. Both are looking up at me, probably waiting for some attention. “You two are so stinking cute.”
“Stinking,” the little boy repeats like a parrot.
I glance toward the hall and see no sign of their mommy, so I say, “Poop.”
His little lips pucker out as he says, “Poop.” We both snicker.
Keeping an eye on the hall, I whisper, “Fart.”
“Fawt.”
Nadine comes around the corner, putting an end to our mimicking game. Her cheeks are rosy and a grin plastered in place. “Can I just go fangirl for a moment?”
“For what?” I ask while bending down to give the infant back the shaky toy she just tossed to the floor.
“You’re Roselyn freaking Scott.”
“Fweaking,” the toddler says.
“Nadine, you should watch your mouth around impressionable ones.” I tsk.
She swats my scold away, not to be deterred. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“You own a business you’ve told me nothing about, so I call us even.”
She scoffs. “Hardly.”
After we bicker the point for a few more minutes, Nadine takes her little bunch home for their afternoon nap. Feeling inspired by that, I think about crawling back into bed as well. As soon as I step into the den, that idea is forgotten. Jack is sitting up on the couch, hair looking like a rat’s nest and face bruised, but what really has me looking twice is the thick black ink scribbled along his forehead that says HIT ME.
Snickering and then snorting until full-out laughing, I step a little closer to take in Nadine’s handy work.
Jack cringes and covers his ears. “Stop making all that racket.” He groans when I plop down beside him, making the couch jostle.
“Serves you right.”
“I know,” he croaks. “I’m sorry for not being a better friend.”
I glance at him. “Yeah. What you did was pretty sorry.”
“No. Not the picture. The drinking.”
“Oh,” I groan. “Don’t get all spiritual on me.”
He scrubs his hands over his face, but winces when he reaches his nose. “You know I see no harm in having a drink or a slice of cake, but that’s where I’ve been a bad friend… Harper, you can’t stop with just one.”
My throat thickens and a wave of nausea joins in my discomfort. “I know.”
Jack reaches over and takes my hand. “I think it’s time we stop this mess. It’s only making us a hot mess.”
Tears trek down my face as I nod in agreement. “You have no idea how much of a hot mess you are at the moment.” I let out a watery laugh.
“Ugh. I know.” He gingerly touches his nose and then his cheeks. “It’ll fade in a few days.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I have a feeling it won’t wash off.” My eyes land on the permanent marker sitting on the coffee table.
Jack looks at me curiously before standing and stumbling into the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of him groaning sends me back to laughing.
*****
“You’re going to have to face your inbox sooner than later.” Jack looks up from my laptop where he has it perched on his lap.
I look away and watch as an elderly man walks by with his dog. The tiny yapping beast keeps snarling at the encroaching waves before he scurries back to his owner. Only a few other people have wandered out to stroll along the gloomy shore today.
Luckily, the beach is back to its fall dormancy after the long week of disorder from the paparazzi has finally died down. Some celebrity couple who became a couple after being caught in an affair has now split because the guy was caught cheating. Karma can be a biddy if you don’t play nice. Thankfully, their bad karma has taken the attention off of me and has sent the cameras scurrying away like the rabid stalkers they are.
“Hello?” Jack snaps his fingers.
“I know.” I hitch my shoulder with a little attitude. He and Beck both have been pushing me to come out of hiding.
“Stop being so darn stubborn.” He shoves the laptop in my lap. “I’ve weeded out all of the trash and made two folders. One is filled with agents asking to represent you and the other is fan mail.”
“Thank you,” I mumble while eyeing the folders underneath the inbox tab.
Jack stands and stretches his arms over his head, releasing a long groan. “Took me long enough. I’ve gotta go button down a few things before flying out next week.”
I glance up. “Where are you off to now?”
“To my parents. They’ve been at me to go visit.”
“Such the good son.” I roll my eyes.
Secretly, I’m jealous of how close Jack’s family is, wishing mine were the same. I’m even jealous of Beck’s family. They are the same way. My dad did take the time to call, via Jack’s phone since I’ve not replaced mine, when they got wind of the Roselyn Scott debacle, but only to reprimand me from keeping such a secret from them. It was all about how my mom was so upset she couldn’t even leave the house, and how Dad felt so disrespected by his only child. Nowhere in that phone call did he ask how I was doing or offer not so much as one word of encouragement.
“Do me a favor,” Jack says, glancing at the waves then back to me while rubbing the back of his neck.
“What’s that?”
“Stop holding back from Beck.”
“What do you mean?” I close the lid to the computer and stand up from the lounge chair.
“Ever since the photo came out, you’ve been avoiding him. Why
?” He motions for me to follow him inside.
“I’m embarrassed.” I shrug. “He not only saw me in that picture, but I’m pretty sure I made a fool of myself that drunken night.” Grainy images of me throwing myself at him and him turning me down flicker through my mind, making me wince. Then there’s the fuzzy part where he called me out on making fun of his faith. That makes my stomach hurt in shame. I rub it, wishing to soothe my stupidity away.
Jack snorts. “From what he said to me after you passed out, I’d say he didn’t mind it.”
I stop in my tracks while the heat blooms across my cheeks. “Shut up. What did he say?”
“Well, he started off by threatening to cut my manhood off if I ever did anything to hurt you again. Then he went on to say that he wasn’t going anywhere and I’d better learn my place in you two’s relationship. Whatever in the heck he meant by that.”
A snicker slips from my lips. “He thinks you flirt too much.”
“See.” Jack’s eyes go round. “The man wants you. Stop being a pansy.” He waves toward the door. “Might I suggest you invite him over and greet him at the door in a short tight dress?”
“Jack!” I pop his arm.
“You owe him at least that much for putting up with you.” He grabs my hand when I go to deliver another pop. “Seriously, he’s crazy about you and it wouldn’t hurt for you to show him how much you care, too, while you’re sober.” All of the tease is gone from his brown eyes and only sincerity reflects from them now. As he opens the front door, Jack leans over and places a kiss on my cheek, but then yelps.
I look up and find Beck standing in the open doorway. “You forget our talk so easily?” He glares at Jack.
“Perfect timing, hotshot. I was just trying to talk Harper into inviting you over. You’re welcome.” Jack returns the glare while rubbing his upper arm. Looks like Beck’s hits are more lethal than mine.
“No spitting contest today, boys,” I scold while taking a step between them.
“I’m out. See you soon, darlin’.” Jack bravely gives me a hug, but Beck keeps his fists to himself this time. Then Jack does something I didn’t think he was stupid enough to do. As he passes by Beck, he shoves into his shoulder, body checking him with enough attitude to start a war.
