by Hebby Roman
Chapter Eleven
A hand waving in front of her face startled her. “Hello? Harper? Come back to us,” Lizzy said, staring at her half-amused, half-concerned.
Harper picked up her wine glass and then put it down without taking a sip. “I’m sorry. I’m not good company tonight.”
“Is it Justin?”
“No! God, no.”
“So, what is it? You’ve been picking at your food, which is delicious by the way. You should try your own cooking.” Lizzy flicked her French manicured nails over her plate.
Harper looked down at her own nails, victims of cheese graters, potato peelers, and butcher knives. Those nails never stood a chance, so she never bothered with manicures.
She’d been looking forward to having her friend over for dinner to christen her new home, and here she was mooning around about that Frank Flynn. “I did something really stupid the other night.”
“Did you hop in the sack with a man? You did! The look on your face.... Who was it?”
Harper winced. “Frank Flynn.”
“What!? Are you crazy? Do you see my stunned face? This is my stunned face, which I usually reserve for my irresponsible baby sister.” She stopped talking long enough to point at her face with two index fingers and drop her jaw while bugging out her eyes. “I never thought I’d use this face on you. That’s so out of character. How did that happen? Were you drunk?” Lizzie leaned in toward her. “Is he good in the sack? Was it awful?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but, yes, he’s good all right. That part of the night wasn’t the problem. It was the next morning—”
“You spent the night with Frank Flynn?” Her glance strayed across the apartment to the bed, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Right here?”
“No. His place. I must have lost my mind. I went over there to thank him...he’s been helpful, and I caused him some trouble. Anyway, one thing led to another....I should have known better.”
“And now in the clear light of day, you see you have to get rid of him?”
“No! I...I liked him. But he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough the next morning.”
“Bastard. I’m sorry, but maybe it’s for the best. Water does seek its own level, and he knows his own. I have to give him credit for that. Maybe you’ve been out of the pool so long you needed to test the water levels again. He hasn’t called you?”
“No, but he was on shift with my father all day yesterday, so I didn’t expect to hear from him.”
“When does he get off?”
Harper swallowed hard to talk past the lump of shame clogging her throat. “He got off his shift this morning. He works here at the ranch sometimes, but I didn’t see him today. But of course, I was at work, and—”
“Just let it go. If he’s not gentleman enough to call you, forget him. Thank heavens we’re not in high school anymore, or your name would be written on the bathroom wall.”
“He’s not like he was back then. He’s a good man—for the most part. I told him not to call me, because clearly he seemed to think it was a mistake.”
“Still...he should have called you, especially with you both bound to be in each other’s hair between the fire station and the ranch.”
Harper put her head in hands. “What have I done? This is such a mess. I feel—”
“Like a tramp?” When she looked up, Lizzie had a big grin on her face.
“You really are stuck in high school, aren’t you? I was going to say I feel humiliated.”
After Lizzie left, Harper cleaned up and put away the dishes. Still too early to go to bed, she weighed her options. Pretend to watch TV while she thought about Frank, or pretend to read while she replayed every moment of the night she’d spent with him. Fucking Frank Flynn. That had a nice ring to it. She’d been in agony since that morning, hoping he’d call despite telling him not to. When she was at home today, her sights were fixed to the windows watching for him to show up. While she did her chores at the stable, she saw his riderless horse. It occurred to her he was going out of his way to avoid seeing her. Anger and pain took turns fueling her thoughts.
When in a fury, clean the apartment, she thought. Unfortunately, she’d already cleaned the place in preparation for Lizzie’s visit. She started attacking the couch cushions, plumping them back up when she heard a sound in the distance, getting closer. A motorcycle. She clutched a pillow to her pounding chest waiting to hear the sound die away as the rider sped past down the highway. But no, the sound now roared up somewhere below and came to a stop. A new sound. Boots tromping up the stairs in a slow tattoo. Her blood pounded in her ears when the knock came at her door.
Harper peered through the peephole her dad installed along with the new lock. She didn’t need to look though; she knew who was there. She swung open the door and stood there blocking it. Flynn had one hand on the door jamb. They both stood there sizing each other up a moment.
“Hello,” he said at last, in a quiet voice, trying to look cool but radiating nerves.
“Is this a booty call? If so you can get right back on your—” She tried to close the door but he stopped it with his hand.
“Hang on! That’s not why I’m here. I don’t want to come in.”
“You don’t? Why are you here?”
“I don’t want to come in. I want to take you out.”
She leaned against the opposite door jamb and crossed her arms tight across her chest. “Why?”
He put his hands out in supplication. “I want to talk to you. You got the wrong idea—my fault. Listen, I thought about you all day yesterday—working alongside your father, I might add.”
“You could’ve called.”
He tilted his head. “If I had your number, which I don’t. Besides, I needed to clear my head. I went out riding into the mountains all day today to be by myself and think about what I wanted to say to you.”
“Sorry I’ve caused you so much inner turmoil.”
“Oh, you did that all right. Come out with me. Let’s talk.”
“Where did you want to take me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t care. It’s up to you. We can go out for a drink or go and sit under the stars. You name it. Just hear me out.” He looked at her with pleading eyes—a hint of pain simmered below the surface. She had to ask herself if she wanted any part of the pain through which Frank Flynn viewed the world.
Chapter Twelve
The clear sky dotted with stars reflected in the still water of Saguaro Lake. The buff colored mountains across the way stood in dark shadows at this hour. Harper took short, deep breaths through her mouth as her stomach churned. She had resolved to take a wary stance with Frank, but riding behind him with her body feeling so right pressed up against his, she started thinking with parts of her body other than her brain.
When she heard the sound of his boots on the deck behind her, she pulled herself together. She felt the heat of his body when he sat down next to her on the bench and handed her a glass of wine. Behind them, the conversations from the bar came out to the deck as muted, disembodied voices riding over jukebox music.
She watched him turn his beer bottle around in his hands, her nervousness increasing. “You said you had something to say to me?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s hard to know where to start.”
“How about you start with you making me feel unwelcome the morning after we made love.”
“Not unwelcome, no. Scared, maybe. I mean, I was scared.”
“You were scared of me?”
“Yeah. The last thing I expected to happen to me when I started that day was to find myself in bed with you. I needed to process that. I’m not good at this sort of thing to start with, and the stakes feel high, you know....I have a confession to make.”
She took in a sharp breath, ready for the worst. Oh, here it comes. He’s got a girlfriend or a disease. He remained silent, intent on the bottle in his hand. “Best to come out with it,” she said.
“Harper, you
have been the object of my desire since high school. Unattainable. Beyond my reach. I watched you from afar for so long that when I had you in the flesh, so to speak, I clenched. There was the you living in my head and the you laying in my bed come together.”
She put her hand on his. “Frank, we’re not in high school anymore. I’m a little tired of that frame of reference. How about we start to know each other fresh. Strangers with no past.”
He turned toward her, those almond-shaped eyes under arched black eyebrows, exotic-looking. “But we do have a past. Our pasts are very much tied up with the present for me, that’s what I’m trying to say. I was a mess for years. I’ve worked hard to drag myself to where I am now. Let me paint you a picture. My parents were the typical can’t-stay-together-can’t-stay-apart couple. Big drinkers, the two of them. Their relationship drama was the backdrop of our family life. One or the other would move out from time to time. Sometimes they’d even disappear together for days at a time, out on a bender. When we were little, my brothers and sister laid low and took care of each other. When we got older, we used the lack of parental attention to our advantage. Our house—my home—was the headquarters for drugs, sex, and alcohol for the underage degenerates. You can see why I dropped out.”
She rubbed the back of his wrist with her thumb. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“I do have the distinction of being the only Flynn without an arrest record.” He said in a mock bright voice.
“Good for you! Now you listen to me. When I look at you, I only see the man you’ve become. I admire you even more now.”
He shook his head. “But you see, I have trouble believing in my heart things will hold. I’ve always been incredibly lucky. I get things I feel I didn’t earn or deserve. I keep waiting for the day my luck turns.” He flipped his hand over and wound his fingers through hers.
“Do you know what I think?”
“Do tell.”
“I think luck has little to do with it, and you need to get over yourself. Enjoy the moment.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s a good one. Here’s the other thing that scares me about you and your enjoy the moment. I wonder where you’ll be this time next year. You came breezing in here in a crisis. When will you breeze out?”
She leaned into him. “My plan is to stay here and get back on my feet. That’s all I can tell you at present.”
He put his arm across her shoulders. “And, you have unfinished business back in New York. That’s not sitting right with me.”
“Oh, that business is very finished! Believe me.”
“Maybe finished but unresolved for you, by the sound of it.”
“Frank Flynn, I don’t mean to sound harsh, but stop being such an old woman. I really like being with you.”
His grip tightened on her shoulders. “I’m only trying to explain why I might have seemed distant the other morning.”
“Are you over it now?”
“I think so. I’m trying anyway.” He bent down and kissed her, and Harper had a sense of rightness being with him.
She ran her hands through his hair. “Hey, you got a haircut.”
He flashed that heart-stopping grin at her. “I thought I should pay more attention to my appearance, now I have a girlfriend. At least, I hope I do, if she can forgive me for being an idiot. Can we go on seeing each other?”
The word girlfriend did give her pause, but she did want to see him again. Whatever this was going on between them, it wasn’t over yet. She met his eyes, put on a smile, and nodded.
Chapter Thirteen
Harper clutched the potholder over her racing heart. The roar of the motorcycle grew closer. She knew it was his. Her ear had become attuned to all things Flynn the last few weeks. Then the sound came to an abrupt stop. She held her breath. The clump of boots on the stairs—the interior stairs direct from the stable. She’d left the door unlocked as she always did on the mornings he was coming off his shift at the station, stopping off at his house first before heading to work on the ranch. There’d be a nice breakfast waiting for him.
She hadn’t touched him for twenty-four hours and her body ached for him. Under the thin robe she wore, she felt her body already responding to the thought of him.
She stood watching the door, rocking on the balls of her feet like a child expecting a gift.
The door swung open and there he was in the flesh. “Hey, baby,” came that sexy drawl. They moved toward each other, and she melted into his body and his mouth. “Something smells good,” he said, pulling his face away.
“I just had a shower.” She arched an eyebrow.
“I can tell, but you always smell good to me. I’m talking about whatever you got cooking over there.”
“I made a frittata.”
“A frittata?”
“Yes, it’s like an omelet—”
“Harper, I know what a frittata is. I’m not a complete rube.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he chucked her affectionately under the chin. “I’m just surprised you went to all the trouble—”
“It’s no trouble.”
“You’re spoiling me.”
“You can repay me tonight,” she said, touching his lips.
“I fully intend to. I got some fine steaks off Dusty to throw on the grill. And, hey, my friend’s band is playing at a bar in town, if you want to go.”
She snuggled into his chest taking in his familiar scent. “I missed you.”
He rubbed her back. “I missed you too, though your father’s starting to look at me funny. I know he’s working himself up to give me a lecture about all the time I spend on my phone lately. I wonder if he knew it was you I’m texting, if that would make matters better or worse.”
“Probably worse. He was never good with my dates.” She unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and raked her nails through the wiry hair on his chest. His chest looked so sexy she had to press her lips to his warm skin, tasting of salt.
He sucked in a deep breath. “And there you went to all that trouble to make me a frittata.”
“Frittatas actually taste better at room temperature, in my opinion. We might want to let it sit for a while.”
He pushed her robe back. It fell to the floor with a whisper of fabric. “I wonder what we’ll do to fill the time?”
He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his hips, feeling his shirt buttons and belt buckle biting into her flesh. His mouth pressed against her neck then traveled up to where she felt his warm, moist breath as he moaned into her ear. Walking them to her bed, his fingers kneaded her buttocks. He tossed her onto the bed, where she landed with a squeal of delight. Standing over her, grinning, he lifted one foot and began planting kisses in the arch of her foot. His tongue rode up to her toes, where he took each one in his mouth. All the while he had his gaze fixed on her face. His playful smile turned to a smoldering look as he worked his way up her leg, teasing her with his mouth. He gave her one more look, his eyes gone so dark before moving further up her leg.
She looked down at the dark curls on top of his head and then threw her own head back, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Oh, lord.
* * *
An hour later, Harper turned to her unmade bed. When she pulled up the bedspread, something clattered to the floor. “Oh, Frank,” she muttered, picking up his phone.
She raced down the stairs to catch him before he set off. Down in the stables she caught sight of him cinching the saddle on his horse. His face lit up when he saw her. Seeing they were alone, she held up his phone and wagged it at him.
“Oh, thanks sweetheart. Looks like you found my excuse to come back,” he said.
“Like you need an excuse,” she said, handing him his phone. She put her hand on Lucky’s muzzle. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Would you mind if I took your horse out for a ride sometimes when you’re at the station?”
He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Not at all. You’d be doing me
a favor. Speaking of riding, how soon can you get to my house after work?”
She had just lifted her face to his for a kiss when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She jumped away from Flynn, pushing him hard in the chest, putting distance between them. “Hey, Uncle Pete!”
“Harper? You’re down early. Mornin’ Flynn. You headed out now?”
“I wanted to catch Flynn before he took off. I wanted to ask if I could take Lucky out on the days he’s at the station.” She looked back at Flynn and caught the hurt in his eyes.
“That’s right, I was just giving Ms. Donovan permission to do that.” His voice was cool.
“Ms. Donovan! Don’t be so formal. Call me Harper.”
“All right. Harper. I work the same shift as your father so I expect you can figure out when I’m not around.” He put his foot into the stirrup and swung into the saddle. “Later.” He tipped his hat to Uncle Pete and rode out.
Uncle Pete chuckled. “You’d think it would kill that guy to be friendly sometimes. He’s all right though when you get to know him. I suspect he likes you.”
“Oh? Why?” Harper watched Flynn heading out into the morning sun. He looked back over his shoulder once before nudging his horse into a run.
“He’s letting you take his horse out. That’s practically a declaration of love from that one. See you later,” he said, heading to his own horse.
“You have a good ride.” She started up the stairs.
She’d only just stepped back in her apartment again when she got a text from Flynn. What was that all about?
Feeling her face flush, she called him right away. His phone seemed to ring forever. “I didn’t mean to act like that,” she spoke in a rush when he answered. “We’d just had sex...and I don’t know...I felt like a teenager getting caught out! I was embarrassed.”
