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“To make things right between us.”
I sighed because the attraction that had built between us during the previous months, and the subsequent rift it had caused, was torturing us both.
“What do you want me to say, Harper? You’re a beautiful girl. But you’re the light to my dark. We would never work, and I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Which is why I decided this couldn’t wait another day. You may meet someone…”
“You deserve way more than I can offer. More than I’m ready to give… may ever be ready to give.”
“Noted. I get you.”
Walking past the window, her slender silhouette cast a darker shadow as she moved across the room; then I felt the mattress dip near my knees.
Drawing in a deep breath, I sighed. “Harper, this is not a good idea. If you stay in here, I guarantee you this won’t end well,” I warned, feeling my restraint slipping.
“If I stay here, it could be the start of something,” she argued.
“Is that what you think? The start of what? More heartache for me? For you, when I make you feel you’re second best for my affections? Do you really want to compete with a ghost? If not, then it’s exactly why you shouldn’t be here. Have you not been listening to me?”
“I’ve listened, Cole, and I’ve made my own observations, years of them. Don’t you think I’ve tried to be objective about this, wondering if this isn’t some stupid crush I’ve developed for the unobtainable? After six years, very long years I might add, I’m sure it’s not.”
“I’m your employer for Christ’s sake, my daughter relies on you.” I knew it sounded conceited and aloof because we both knew she was more than this.
“Despite what you say, your actions speak louder than words. Verbally, you’ve been extremely clear in what you don’t want to happen, but how you’ve behaved, the way you almost lost it on Christmas night, how you’ve avoided being in the same room as me…” She left the rest of the explanation for me to decipher. “We both know this attraction isn’t superficial, even if you tell yourself it is.”
I closed my eyes to shut out my feelings, even though she couldn’t see my face in the dark. Deep down I always knew Layla wasn’t the only reason for not being with Harper, that reason alone would never have stopped me in the past. It was because when I was with her I had started to feel things, other things; she stirred my emotions in ways I felt uncomfortable with.
I felt frustrated by the way my body reacted around Harper and hated the thoughts I had no business having. They weren’t welcome. When I looked at her she triggered butterflies, excitement, dark moods, and feelings of guilt and disloyalty to my late wife.
Harper’s advances had also prompted me to face the fact that I was conflicted between feeling excited and the need to cling to a memory because I was petrified I was falling from Grace. Falling away from a part of my life so significant it had paralyzed my soul and rendered me terrified of opening my wounded heart to someone else.
My raw attraction for Harper left me with an ache of want in my stomach and a heart torn in half between grief and something else— possibility.
I had tried everything to resist this beautiful, trusting woman who was willing to take a chance with someone as damaged as me. Why was I resistant? Grace was gone. There was a wall around my mind and I’d hid behind it for so long, I had no idea how to behave. I knew if I stepped out in front of it the world would have changed.
I was torn between being with a gorgeous girl made of real flesh and blood and remaining loyal to a ghost. Yet, the letter from my wife had spelled it all out. I had her blessing. Facing my denial meant admitting my thoughts and fantasies no longer included Grace. They were unequivocally full of Harper.
Lastly, the passionate memories of my time with Grace were fading and no longer wounded me in the same way that they had; replaced by my curiosity and wonder of how it would feel to face my vulnerabilities about falling for Harper. Is this what’s happening?
When the mattress decompressed as Harper stood, I figured my words had done the trick and she had risen to leave. I heard her move away, but when I saw a glimpse of her frame fleetingly move past the door and the crack closed, and the sound of the lock engaging told me this wasn’t the case.
When I felt the mattress dip again, this time the impression deeper on Grace’s side of the bed, something inside me snapped. The last thing I would have done was take any woman in the bed that had held so many memories of my wife. The bed where Layla was conceived… the bed where we drew plans for a family and had lived, laughed, and loved.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Prior to Grace, my life as a rock star had been full of debauchery, with one-night stands, lewd, often public sex acts and propositions, but the man I’d become was so far removed from the carefree risk-taker I had been back then.
Subsequently, I was drowning in responsibility; a broken man, perhaps beyond repair. With Harper testing my position, I found myself less forceful and more reluctant to make a decision about how to respond to her advances.
Reaching over, I tapped the light on the nightstand and stood up naked off the bed. Harper’s eyes flew to mine then down my body. Her eyes widened. “Up. Get the fuck off the bed, now.”
Sitting curled up in my bed in a tiny pale pink tank, her hard nipples visible; and some short pajama bottoms, she looked paralyzed by my reaction. When she didn’t move, I strode around the bed and dragged her to her feet by her wrist and made for the door. “What the fuck…” No matter how appealing she looked, I wasn’t fucking her in my bed.
Fueled by anger and conflicting feelings, I pulled Harper down the hall. Her long hair whipped from side to side in her silent struggle as we passed by Layla’s room. Opening Harper’s bedroom door, I swung her roughly inside, closed the door softly behind me, and shoved her crudely down on her bed. Determined to keep the upper hand, I caged her to her mattress with all of my limbs. Her breath hitched, and her eyes filled with fire.
“You’re determined not to take no for an answer?” My question was laced with a mixture of frustration and anger as I shook the mattress beneath her, bouncing her on the bed.
“You want this as much as I do,” she spat back, her eyes ablaze with the same sass I’d witnessed before when she’d almost pushed me too far. Placing her hands on my sides, she forcefully pulled me closer. I landed heavily on top of her and she let out a grunt.
