Book Read Free

More than Words

Page 1

by Harper Bliss




  More Than Words

  Pink Bean Series - Book 9

  Harper Bliss

  Also by Harper Bliss

  The Silver Linings Series

  No Greater Love Than Mine

  * * *

  The Pink Bean Series

  No Strings Attached (Book 1)

  Beneath the Surface (Book 2)

  Everything Between Us (Book 3)

  This Foreign Affair (Book 4)

  Water Under Bridges (Book 5)

  No Other Love (Book 6)

  Love Without Limits (Book 7)

  Crazy for You (Book 8)

  * * *

  The French Kissing Series

  French Kissing: Season One

  French Kissing: Season Two

  French Kissing: Season Three

  French Kissing: Season Four

  * * *

  Other Novels

  At the Water’s Edge

  Once in a Lifetime

  Release the Stars

  Seasons of Love

  Far from the World We Know

  The Road to You

  In the Distance There Is Light

  Once Upon a Princess (with Clare Lydon)

  A Swing at Love (with Caroline Bliss)

  Contents

  Special Offer from the Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Get Three Books FOR FREE

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Harper Bliss

  No Strings Attached

  A Swing at Love

  French Kissing: Seasons 1-3

  Get three Harper Bliss books FOR FREE

  Sign up for the no-spam newsletter and get FEW HEARTS SURVIVE, a Pink Bean Series novella, and two other books for free.

  Details can be found at the end of this book.

  To everyone who’s lost someone.

  Chapter One

  Kat

  “This is the perfect location for a third Pink Bean,” Kristin says, standing in front of the large shop window. “I can picture it already.” She turns around to face Rocco and me and reaches out her hand. “And I’m very happy to be in business with both of you.” I let Rocco shake her hand first.

  Just as I’m about to touch my palm against Kristin’s, my phone starts vibrating in the back pocket of my jeans. I sigh because I can so easily guess who it’s going to be—Alana, trying to convince me, once again, to reconsider quitting The Lesbian Experience.

  “This is a job perfectly suited for working part-time,” she said yesterday, when I was silly enough to pick up. “Even one appointment per week would be good.”

  “Do you have to get that?” Kristin asks and quickly lets go of my hand.

  “Let me check.” I slip my phone out of my pocket. A picture of Liz appears on the screen. Relief washes over me and I pick up. Even though we used to be colleagues at the agency, I know she won’t try to convince me to take another client. She knows that once you’re done with being an escort, you’re done. That door has been closed once and for all.

  “Hi Lizzie,” I greet my friend. We’ve gotten much closer now that we’re no longer co-workers—although we never actually, in the true sense of the word, collaborated.

  “I’m in my old hood,” Liz says. “I thought I’d drop in.”

  “Rocco and I are with Kristin at the venue for the new Pink Bean. Swing by here.” I give her the address. When I hang up, Rocco’s telling Kristin all about his interior design plans—again. His arm swoops through the air and his voice shines with enthusiasm. We’ve been talking about this for so long—although I’m not sure either one of us ever sincerely believed our dreams would come true. Then we met Kristin and everything started going really fast.

  “Liz is stopping by,” I say when a silence falls in their conversation.

  Rocco checks his watch. “Auntie Hera should be here soon as well.”

  We make our way into the empty shop.

  “If only we had a working coffee machine already,” Kristin says, a smile on her face.

  “My aunt will have the renovations done in no time. She’s not one of those builders who say yes to a deadline only to push it back time and time again. I’m also her favorite nephew and she can’t pull that shit with me.” Rocco puts his hands on his hips.

  “Family connections can work in your favor as well as against you,” Kristin says.

  Ever since we started talking to her about a possible third Pink Bean branch, she’s been uttering words of advice like that. She doesn’t talk a mile a minute, but she’s been invaluable in helping us make our dream a reality. And as a silent partner she has invested enough money so that Rocco and I can devote all our energy to getting this off the ground as quickly as possible.

  He waves her off. When they talk to each other, Rocco so flamboyant and Kristin so measured in her movements, the contrast always makes me smile. They’re so different, yet they seem to hit it off. Then again, Rocco is the kind of person who hits it off with almost everyone he meets. He wags a finger at her.

  Kristin peers at it as though it’s a gesture not many people have ever had the balls to aim at her.

  “Not when it comes to my aunt. Nu-uh,” he says. “She’s a woman of her word if ever there was one.”

  “A woman after my own heart then.” Kristin gives him a small smile. I don’t think she’s capable of anything more generous, as though her genetics don’t allow her wide grins.

  “After we’ve talked with Hera, we can set an opening date,” I say, my voice brimming with excitement.

  When Jessica first introduced me to Kristin, I misjudged her as the kind of person who would take great offense at my then-profession. But looks can be deceiving—something I should know all about—and Kristin embraced the idea of the new coffee shop from the start. It helped that she already had a partnership going with two women who run a Pink Bean branch, slash feminist book shop, in Newtown.

  “We’ll see,” Kristin says. “I know she’s your aunt, Rocco, but it will also depend on the budget.”

  Rocco waves her off again. Kristin looks at his fluttering hand as though, if he waves it at her one more time, she might very well slap it away. “This is even better than mates’ rates, Kristin. This is family.”

  Even I’m curious about meeting Rocco’s aunt. I’ve known him for a long time, but I’ve never met her. However, I do know all about her long-term partner Samantha suddenly dying of a cerebral hemorrhage last year. Rocco may have cried about it when he was with me but I’m sure he was a rock for his aunt. He’s that kind of guy. As camp as they come, yet with a heart of gold underneath. I love him to bits for both those elements of his personality.

  A woman on a pale blue racing bicycle stops in front of the window, catching all of our attention. From her lanky form, I can tell it’s Liz. She takes off her helmet and
straps it to the handlebar of her bike. She waves at us through the window.

  “I can’t believe there’s going to be a Pink Bean in bloody Bondi,” she says as she steps inside. “Now that I no longer live here.”

  “Sorry, darling,” Rocco says. “But this is where it’s happening. You shouldn’t have been such a lez and moved in with your girlfriend after two dates.”

  The three lesbians surrounding him protest loudly, telling him off for his inane utterance of clichés. While Liz admires the space, I see a bright red flatbed truck pull up outside. The driver manages to maneuver it into a tight spot, impressing me with their parking skills.

  Rocco claps his hands together. “Hera’s here.”

  We all watch Hera as she descends from the truck. She stands looking at the building for a split second, just long enough for me to take her in. She’s tall with short cropped dark hair that is greying slightly at the temples. Her jeans are faded and marred with paint spots. The T-shirt she’s wearing is loose and shapeless, but from its sleeves, a pair of bulky biceps protrude. Hera pushes her tortoiseshell glasses up her nose and heads inside.

  Chapter Two

  Hera

  Rocco introduces me to Kristin, Liz, and Katherine. I’ve heard him talk about Katherine before. I know what she used to do for a living.

  I’ve always had a soft spot for Rocco, as he’s my only nephew, but I was still hesitant to take on this project. Especially when he told me he would be carrying out the ‘interior design’ of the coffee shop.

  I glance around and conclude it’s a good space. It’s light and airy so it won’t feel cramped.

  “The counter will go here,” Rocco says, not wasting any time. He’s like an overexcited puppy. It makes me want to pet him to calm him down a little bit, but I’d better not embarrass him in front of his business associates. I know he and Katherine will be running the show, with Katherine putting in most of the money—apparently being a hooker allows you to save up quite a sum of cash.

  Kristin will be lending her brand name and expertise, and is also investing a percentage of the money. What Rocco lacks in cash, he can sure make up for in sheer enthusiasm, I know that much. I’m secretly proud of him for doing this, for making his dream come true. Life can be so short, he’s right to make the most of it.

  “Rocco has drawn up some plans,” Katherine says. “Which I’m sure he’ll share with you.”

  I point at the backpack slung over my shoulders. “I’ve studied the plans already.” I lock my gaze on Katherine’s for an instant. Her eyes are dark and intense. I can see why a woman like her could hire out her… services. I quickly push the thought away. I’m here to help Rocco make his dream come true, not to judge his business associate. He’s old enough to make his own decisions. I’m just the builder. I come in, do the work, and leave. “I’m here to get a feel for the place.” I glance away from Katherine. “What you’ve planned for it shouldn’t be a problem, from a builder’s point of view.” I have to admit that, though striking as she is, Katherine looks quite different than I pictured. She’s much curvier than my idea of a high-class escort—but what do I know? She wears her curves well, however, and maybe that’s where the secret lies.

  And if I’m going to do this job, I really need to get over Rocco’s friend’s profession—or former profession, as he has assured me.

  “You’d best not tell your mother who you’re hanging out with,” I told him when he first told me about Katherine’s job. “She won’t understand.”

  Rocco had shaken his head in that way he has, adding an exaggerated eye roll and hiss, and said, “Seems to me the one who doesn’t understand is sitting right across from me.”

  When he offered me this job, I took it because I needed it. Not so much from a monetary point of view—although at the time Australia wouldn’t let us legally marry, Samantha had made me the only beneficiary of her life insurance policy—but because I needed the distraction.

  I need to work, need to do something with my hands to chase the ever-growing cobwebs from my mind. If I have to work for an ex-prostitute, so be it. I’ve always considered myself an open-minded woman, but I have my limits. Trading sex for money is something that falls out of the boundaries of my comprehension.

  “When can you start, Auntie?” Rocco asks. “And how long do you think it will take?”

  Kristin steps forward. “We will also need a quote from you, Hera. On paper.”

  “Of course.” I nod at her. I like her. She seems to know what she’s doing, unlike Rocco who’s been wagging his tail over this coffee shop for months now.

  “You’re opening up a coffee shop called the Pink Bean?” I asked him, incredulously, when he first told me. “You’re not pulling my leg?”

  He looked at me with his eyebrows all arched up. “Because we’re all gay, hence the coffee beans are supposedly pink,” he said, looking much more innocent than I knew him to be.

  “Sure, dear,” I said. “If that’s what you want to believe.”

  I’m glad Rocco and Katherine have Kristin on their side for this venture. It makes me feel as though I won’t be working on something that’s bound to go bust in a few months’ time.

  “I’ll get you the quote, on paper, by the end of the week,” I say. “I can start as soon as all parties are agreed. I don’t have any other jobs going at the moment.” I don’t explain why. I’m sure Rocco has told them all about how his aunt has become a sad, grieving widow. “The job is pretty straightforward.” I give Rocco a quick pat on the biceps. “If we put all this vanity muscle to use, Rocco can be a great little helper if he wants to be. It should only take a few weeks. Let me have a proper think about it and I’ll give you a better idea of the time I’ll need when I send over the quote.”

  “Sounds great,” Katherine says.

  “This place is going to be amazing,” the lanky, toned woman, whose name I’ve already forgotten, says.

  “I’ll do my best,” I say.

  Rocco puts his arm around me. “I know you will.” He cocks his head. “When Chris and I redid our apartment, Hera tore down the walls as if it was nothing.” He grins at me.

  Katherine extends her hand. “I look forward to working with you.”

  I have no choice but to shake her hand. We stand around chatting for a few more minutes, after which I do another run of the place, inspecting its nooks and crannies.

  By the time I’m back in my truck, already doing calculations for the quote in my head, I’m glad for this opportunity. It’s time to get out of my house and start living in the real world again.

  Chapter Three

  Kat

  I promised Rocco I’d be at our future coffee shop for Hera’s first day, not only so that we could both be present but also to mark the occasion that it is. But I also told him that I’m no good with my hands, which earned me quite the look from him.

  “My skills have always lain elsewhere,” I said to him.

  “Of course, darling,” he replied, throwing in a big fat wink.

  Hera has arrived and she has barely given me the time of day so I just stand around, doing nothing. There are things to arrange, of course, but I’d reserved today to welcome Hera—and to help where I could.

  She’s pressing her fingertips against a wall, as though gauging its strength, but what do I know? For some reason, Rocco gets away with pretending he does know. She bends over and Rocco does the same. I find myself staring at their backsides. I already know Rocco’s bum is pert and tight—he spends enough time in the gym doing squats, then telling me all about them. Hera’s behind is but a tiny bulge in her jeans. She has impressive arms, but the rest of her is lean in that sinewy, coiled way, probably from being a builder all her life.

  She murmurs something to Rocco that I can’t make out. When they straighten up, I ask, “Can I get you anything? Some water? Or coffee, perhaps?”

  Hera points at the flask she brought in earlier. She does seem very self-sufficient. She doesn’t respond verbally, which
irks me a little.

  “I’ll have a coffee,” Rocco says. “If only to give the competition some extra business before we seduce all their customers away.”

  “Have some of mine,” Hera says. “I have plenty in my flask.” Her voice is low but smooth.

  “Thanks, but no thanks, Auntie.” Rocco screws up his face. “I’ll go for the real deal.”

  Hera just shakes her head.

  “One flat white coming right up.” I know Rocco’s preferred hot beverage.

  “Rocco, why don’t you run along. Let me get a better feel for the place on my own without you two hovering about.” Her tone’s quite brusque, but Rocco doesn’t seem to take offense. Maybe that’s just Hera’s way. Or maybe he’s happy to get out of here already. He might have bulging biceps, but that doesn’t make him the ideal builder’s apprentice. They’re, quite literally, just for show.

  “Chris is coming by later,” he says when we walk out. “He took the afternoon off.”

  “That’s nice of him.”

  “It’s not every day something like this happens in his partner’s life.”

  I bump my shoulder into his. We’re about the same height, something I’ve always teased him about, but today’s not the day for that.

 

‹ Prev