All That We Are

by Melissa Toppen

  “Wish I could stay and chat, but I gotta be home to get the kiddos off the bus. I’ll be back after dinner to load her up. Just have her back here around six thirty?”

  “I can do that.” Miles reaches out and shakes Preach’s hand for the second time.

  “It was nice to meet you, Harlow.” His gaze slides to me.

  “Nice to meet you as well.”

  With that, Preach climbs into the truck and fires it to life. “You two kids have fun.” He throws a wave out the window as he drives away, the boat trailer sliding out of the water behind him, leaving the boat bobbing next to the dock.

  “Shall we?” Miles smiles down at me before pulling me toward the dock.

  “We’re going out on a boat?” I say excitedly.

  “Looks that way, doesn’t it?” he teases.

  “When did you have time to arrange this?”

  “I made a quick phone call after we got off the phone,” he tells me, releasing my hand to climb onto the boat before turning around to help me on board. “It was a spur of the moment thing.”

  “Have you taken this boat out before?” I ask, watching him untie the ropes that Preach had placed on the dock to keep the boat in place.

  “A couple of times. It’s been a while. Since I bought the shop from Dexter, I haven’t had that much free time.”

  “And yet you keep finding ways to make time for me.” Knowing he’s rearranged his very tight schedule on more than one occasion so that we could do something together.

  “What can I say? I like being around you.” He winks, tossing the last rope toward the dock.

  “Hmmm. Well, I guess I like being around you too,” I say sheepishly.

  “Well good, because I don’t plan on going anywhere.” He smiles, taking a seat behind the steering wheel before patting the seat next to him.

  The boat is small. Other than the two seats in the center of the deck, there is only a small three-person bench along the back, about three feet separating it from the captain area. There’s also a small stretch of deck in front of us with metal stairs on either side, no doubt for entering and exiting the water.

  “What kind of boat is this anyway?” I ask, watching him flip a switch as the boat comes to life.

  “A bowrider, I believe. I have to admit. I’m not really an expert on boats.” He grins, slowly guiding the boat out of the docking area. “Preach uses it mainly for tubing and stuff with the kids. Today, we’re just going to enjoy being out on the water.”

  “That sounds perfect to me.” I relax back into the comfortable bucket seat, enjoying the breeze whipping through my hair as the boat approaches the open water and we begin to gain speed.

  We drive several miles away from shore before Miles slows and kills the engine.

  “You hungry or thirsty?” he asks, turning toward me. “Preach packed us some waters and a couple of snacks. He said it was all he had in his fridge, so lord only knows what he stuck us with.” He chuckles, climbing out of his seat.

  I smile, turning to watch him pull a small cooler out from underneath the bench seating behind me before popping it open.

  He looks inside the cooler for a long moment and laughs, dropping down to sit on the floor. “Well, we have Lunchables.” He holds one of them up, shaking his head. “And some water.” He riffles through the cooler. “Oh and lookie here!” He grins, holding up a couple Gogurts. “Bonus.”

  “Lunchables and Gogurt.” I drop my head back and laugh. “How romantic.” I bite my bottom lip to contain my grin.

  “If this wasn’t so last minute, I swear I would have had something better to give you.”

  “Oh shut up and give me one of those.” I push out of my chair and stalk toward him. “I love Gogurts and Lunchables,” I tell him, pulling one of the tubed yogurts out of his hand before sliding down to sit next to him on the floor.

  “This is what I get for asking Preach to pack us snacks. I should have known the only food he’d have in his fridge would be the shit he packs for his kids’ lunches.” He chuckles.

  “Hey, I happen to think he did pretty good.” I rip the top off of the Gogurt tube and slide some of the strawberry sweetness onto my tongue. “Mmm.” I wiggle my eyebrows up and down playfully.

  “You are something else. You know that?” Miles drops his head as another wave of laughter rolls through him.

  “Here, you try it,” I say, holding my tube of yogurt in front of his face.

  “I am not eating that.” He curls his nose and shakes his head.

  “Oh come on,” I insist, using my thumb and index finger to squeeze some of the yogurt to the surface. “You know you want to.”

  “Oh hell.” He chuckles, snatching the Gogurt out of my hand before placing the plastic tube between his lips.

  “Well?”

  “Okay, so it’s not horrible,” he says, looking at the tube for a long moment before going in for a second taste. “Actually, it’s pretty damn good.”

  “Right!” I reach for the Gogurt, laughing when he pulls it out of my reach.

  “Heck no. This is mine. Get your own,” he jokes, handing it back to me.

  Seconds later, he tosses a pepperoni and cheese Lunchable in my lap before pulling one out for himself, sitting it on the ground next to him.

  I can’t help but giggle when he pulls out the second Gogurt and rips the top off, sucking back half of the tube in one swipe.

  “What?” He gives me a funny look when I laugh harder.

  “It’s just funny,” I say, covering my mouth to try to keep it in.

  “What is?” He looks down and all around like he’s trying to figure out what I find so humorous.

  “You.”

  “What? Do I have yogurt in my beard or something?” he asks, running his hand down the front of his beard.

  “No, it’s not that.” I shake my head. “It’s just funny seeing a man that looks like you, sitting Indian style on the floor, eating a Lunchable and a Gogurt. I feel like I need to capture this moment or no one will ever believe it’s true,” I say, reaching for my phone in my back pocket.

  “Don’t you dare,” Miles playfully warns, trying to snag my phone the instant he sees it.

  “Oh stop it and let me take a picture.” I swat at him, quickly pulling up the camera app. “My big, bad, tattooed, motorcycle riding military man.” I smile, pouting out my bottom lip when he refuses to look at the camera. “Please,” I whine.

  He lets out a loud sigh and shakes his head before looking toward the camera.

  “Now smile,” I tell him, making sure I can get his food in the picture as well.

  “Oh hell, woman.” He rolls his eyes before plastering on a wide, cheesy smile.

  I snap three pictures back to back, then decide I’ve probably tortured him enough. Lowering my phone, I’m just about to shove it back in my pocket when Miles snags it out of my hand.

  “My turn.” He smirks, turning the camera on me. He snaps several pictures, most of them of me trying to block my face, before he tugs me next to him and reverses the camera to get both of us in the shot.

  “I didn’t take you for the selfie type,” I tease, running my nose gently across his jaw.

  “Are you going to keep busting my balls or are you going to take a damn picture with me?” He groans.

  “Okay, okay.” I lean further into him and look up at the phone.

  “One, two, three.” I smile, and he snaps the picture, pulling the phone toward him to look it over. “Not too bad.” He nods, handing the phone to me.

  “I beg to differ. I look awful,” I inform him, holding the phone at an angle so I can see it better. With the sun shining down on it, putting a glare on the screen it makes it hard to get a good look.

  “That’s not possible,” Miles tells me, taking the phone from my hand. He locks the screen and sets the device on the bench seat next to him. “You always look incredible.”

  “You’re funny.” I crinkle my nose at him.

  “And you’re beautifu
l,” he counters, causing an instant whoosh to run through my stomach.

  “Come here.” I lean in and lay a light kiss to his lips before settling back into my previous position. “You know, you’re not anything like I thought you were,” I tell him, peeling the top off of my Lunchable package.

  “How so?” he asks, doing the same thing to his.

  “I don’t know. You always seemed like such an arrogant asshole, but now that I know you better, I realize you’re not that at all.”

  “Oh yeah?” He grins, popping a cracker into his mouth. “How am I then?” he asks, his mouth full.

  “You’re funny and witty. Sweet and caring. And you’re so gentle with me sometimes I think you’re afraid I’m made of glass. It’s like the complete opposite of what you portray on the outside.”

  “I’m only that way with you,” he tells me. “It’s like you’ve cast some witchy spell on me and I can’t help but be a total pussy around you.” He laughs.

  “Me and my witchy magic.” After a beat, I ask, “So, are you going to tell me what happened with Winston today?”

  He goes silent for a full thirty seconds, staring down at the food in his lap.

  “He’s convinced I’ll hurt you,” he finally says.

  “And what do you think?” I ask, setting my Lunchable off to the side before climbing to my knees in front of him.

  “I think he might be right.” He lets out a slow sigh.

  “Hey.” I take his Lunchable and set it next to mine before forcing his gaze up. “You won’t hurt me,” I reassure him. “Or did you miss the part where I said you treat me like I’m made of glass?”

  “He seemed pretty sure.”

  “Winston seems pretty sure of everything and is rarely ever right about anything.” I smile, straddling his legs before settling down in his lap. Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, I lean in closer. “Obviously, he didn’t have too big of an issue otherwise he would have made a bigger fuss about it.”

  “I think it’s because he knows how much I care about you.” He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine.

  “And how would he know that?” I run a hand into his hair.

  “Maybe because I told him.” He smiles, snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me tighter against him.

  “And what exactly did you tell him?” I ask.

  “That I’m falling in love with you.” The moment the statement leaves his lips, all the air rushes from my body, and a tingle starts in my head, working its way through every extremity. “Did you hear what I said, Low?” he whispers, waiting for some kind of reaction from me.

  “Yeah,” I croak out, completely caught off guard by his admission.

  “And what do you think of that?” He pulls back slightly to meet my gaze.

  “I...” I stutter, trying to calm my raging heart that feels like it might beat out of my chest at any moment. “I feel the same way,” I admit, watching the instant relief flood his face.

  “Yeah?” His smile is so full it warms me from the inside out.

  “Yeah,” I admit, never actually getting a chance to say the words because within seconds Miles has his lips on mine, and I know that the time for talking is over.

  ——

  “Hello?” I press the phone to my ear, the warm sun blaring down on my naked body as I lay in the boat, nestled in Miles’ arms.

  “Ms. Cabell?” A male voice comes on the line.

  “This is she,” I say, only half paying attention. Hell, the only reason I even answered was because the number called twice in a row and I was worried it could be important.

  “This is Clark from Towne Properties. I was calling about the loft apartment you filled out an application for.” This gets my attention, and I quickly sit up.

  “Yes. Hi, how are you?”

  “I’m well, thank you. I am calling to let you know that your application was approved. I apologize for the delay, but there was a system issue with the company who does our background checks, and it took a lot longer than it normally does to get everything back.”

  “So, I got it?” I practically squeal into the phone, feeling Miles shift beside me.

  “If you still want it, the apartment is yours. You can move in the first of the month.”

  “As in next week?” I question.

  “Yes, ma’am. If that works for you.”

  “Yes. Thank you so much.” I look over to Miles as he sits up next to me.

  “We will need you to stop into the leasing office in the next day or two to sign the lease and pay your deposit and the first month’s rent.”

  “I can come by tomorrow morning if that works.” I smack Miles’ leg excitedly, holding my finger up when he asks what’s going on.

  “Perfect. I’ll be in the office from eight to five tomorrow.”

  “Then I will see you in the morning.”

  “I look forward to it, Ms. Cabell.”

  “Thank you again.” My hands are shaking by the time I hang up the phone. As if this day couldn’t get any better – learning that I landed the apartment I wanted is the cherry on top of this perfect day. “I got the apartment,” I announce excitedly, turning to wrap my arms around Miles’ shoulders.

  “Congratulations.” He pulls me closer and squeezes tighter. “That’s amazing news.”

  “He said I could move in on the first. I have to go in tomorrow morning to pay the deposit and the first month’s rent.”

  “I’m really happy for you, Harlow. I know how badly you’ve wanted this,” he says, reaching up to secure my chin between his thumb and finger.

  “Thank you. It’s crazy how everything seems to be falling into place.”

  “You deserve this. You deserve to be happy.” He leans forward and kisses the side of my mouth.

  “You make me happy.”

  “You make me happy,” he repeats, smiling as he presses his lips directly onto mine this time. “And as much as I hate to say it, I think we should probably head back.” He groans, releasing my chin.

  “Is it that time already?” I pout, not ready to call an end to our time away.

  This has been one of the best days of my life. From laughing and joking with Miles, to hearing him say he’s falling in love with me, to making love as the boat bounced in the water below us, there is not one thing about this day that hasn’t been absolute perfection.

  “I know,” he agrees, reaching for his jeans next to him. “But Preach might kill me if I keep him waiting. Or rather, his old lady will.” He chuckles, tugging his jeans up his legs before standing and securing them around his waist.

  “Well we don’t want that,” I agree, quickly strapping on my bra before sliding my shirt over my head.

  Helping me to my feet, Miles pulls me to his chest without giving me a chance to zip up my jean shorts.

  “Thank you for today,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose.

  “I think it’s me who should be thanking you.” I smile up at him.

  “I don’t know what it is that you’re doing to me, Harlow Cabell, but whatever it is, don’t stop doing it.”

  “I think I can manage that.” Linking my hand around the back of his neck, I pull his face down to mine.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Miles

  “Is this seriously all you have?” I look around Harlow’s bare apartment.

  Other than the bed Winston gave her from his spare room which we placed up in the loft. She has zero furniture.

  “I told you I was starting from scratch.” She huffs, both of her hands going to her hips as she stands in the center of the empty living space.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t realize you meant this,” I tell her, shaking my head.

  “Don’t worry. I should have enough money to get a couch in the next couple of weeks.”

  “In the next couple of weeks? Where do you plan to sit until then? You don’t even have a place to eat.”

  “Jackie and Dad are giving me their old table. Jackie decided on Fr
iday that she wanted a new one. I think she just wanted to make sure I had a table and chairs but knew I would never agree to let them buy me one.”

  “And where do you plan to sit and relax? Those hardwood chairs are hardly comfortable.”

  “The floor works just fine.”

  “As if that’s any better,” I counter.

  “It’s only temporary. I’ll take a little out of each paycheck and buy things as the weeks progress. It’s not like I have to have every single thing right now. I can manage.”

  “There are certain things you need in your home. One of the most important things being furniture,” I tell her, snagging her purse off the kitchen counter. “Come on, we’re going shopping,” I say, extending the bag to her.

  “What?” She looks from me to the purse and then back again.

  “Shopping,” I say, shoving the bag into her hand. “You and me. Let’s go.”

  “Miles,” she starts, but I immediately cut her off.

  “We’re doing this,” I tell her sternly.

  “I don’t have the money right now,” she objects. “I spent most of what I had saved on the deposit, first month’s rent, and having all the utilities turned on. Did you know that if you’ve never had electric or water in your name they make you pay deposits? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” She sighs.

  “You don’t need money. This is on me.”

  “Like hell it is.” She crosses her arms in front of herself, her purse dangling from her hand. “You are not buying me anything.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “No, you’re not.” The frustration in her voice is undeniable. “I’ve never done anything on my own. Alan always handled the money. He decided what to buy and when. I was just along for the ride. It’s important to me that I do this for myself. So thank you, but no thank you.”

  “I’ll tell you what.” I try another angle, clearly seeing how important this is to her. “Come with me to the furniture store, pick out a couch, and I will pay for it.” I hold up my finger when she begins to open her mouth, surely to object. “And then you can pay me back.”

  “No.” She shakes her head.

  “Okay, what if we set up a paycheck deduction?” I suggest. “I’ll buy you a new couch. And a T.V.,” I say, looking around the empty space. “And we can agree upon an amount that will be deducted from your paycheck each week to pay me back.”