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Separating, breathless, Harper’s lust-filled eyes darted to her left and her body steeled when she saw her dickhead ex-boyfriend staring at the scene I’d staged. Slipping my hand into hers, I squeezed it tight in a silent I-got-you gesture, and I whispered in her ear. “Breathe, Baby.” I smiled when I heard her exhale.
“Hey, Harper, looking good, Honey,” he called out, totally unashamed of his previous behavior toward her and smiled at me like we were buddies.
“You need an eye doctor. My girl doesn’t look good; she looks incredible. Who the fuck are you, anyway?” I asked curtly, like I had no idea who he was.
“Oh, Harper and I go way back. Don’t tell me you didn’t tell him about us?” he asked, sounding like he had this big fucking secret and was manipulating the situation.
“Told me?” I asked him in a curious tone. My hand tightened around Harper’s when she tried to pull away from me.
Glancing toward her parents’ place, I ensured there was no one around and they weren’t aware we’d arrived before I replied.
“What exactly was she supposed to tell me?”
“We were an item for almost two years,” he informed me looking proud, even though the fucker hadn’t treated her right. I stared pointedly at him for a few seconds, wondering if he’d forgotten this small detail.
“Is this the guy you refused to have anal play with?” I asked, addressing Harper bluntly with a raised eyebrow.
Harper’s eyes went wide in horror. “Cole,” she admonished, mortified I’d blurted out the one thing she felt she’d told me in confidence.
“No, Babe, it’s fine. All I want to do is tell… what’s your name?” I asked, my fingers waving in a hand it over gesture.
“Millar,” he informed me in a far less confident tone already.
“Yeah, Malcolm, Harper did mention you, now that I think about it. You apparently dumped her ass when she wouldn’t let you near it.” I knew I was making Harper feel uncomfortable, but I wanted her to walk away from this with her dignity totally intact.
“What you obviously don’t realize is there are two types of women who have no boundaries with their bodies. There are those who don’t respect themselves and are happy for any guy to stick it to them in any hole they want. Then there are women like Harper. Winning the trust of a woman like my girl takes a real man. A man who takes his time to truly connect with her. Someone she trusts. Believe me, when a woman trusts in the right way, there’s no part of her body that’s out of bounds.”
I could almost hear the cogs whirring inside the asshole’s head as he stared at Harper.
“So, I guess what you got is a keeper like the first type I’ve just described. Good luck with that, by the way, because you obviously don’t have what it takes to keep a girl like Harper, and the first type don’t take much to stray. Hell, I should shake your hand for being such a dumbfuck in choosing the one you’ve got, because I’d never have had such a beautiful second chance.”
Even as I spoke, I watched Millar’s eyes rake over Harper’s body, and where normally I’d have throat punched any guy who eye-fucked my woman, in his case I was thrilled to have him look. My words had hit him where it hurt, and I saw the realization as to what he’d lost because Harper was now a woman far beyond the reach of a stupid guy like him.
“Nice to meet you,” I lied, in a voice laced with a small degree of sarcasm and amusement, as I brought Harper’s hand to my lips. Looking up at him one last time, I flashed him the smuggest smile I could manage and winked. “Trust me… no part of a woman’s body is out of bounds in the hands of the right man.” Placing my hand on her back, I steered her in the direction of her parents’ front door.
Feeling how tense her body language was, from what I had done, she leaned in and groaned. “Thanks, Cole, that didn’t help because now he thinks I do anal sex.”
“Ah, no, did I say anal sex? I don’t believe I used those words, Harper. I’m not a liar… because one day you will, I have no doubt about that, but what I said was anal play.”
Harper’s eyes connected with mine and I saw relief flicker there. “Just don’t try to win my father over with that example you just gave Millar,” she told me, and although her voice sounded stern, I didn’t miss the small smile that curved her lips as she shoved open the door with her shoulder and led me chuckling inside.
Everything Harper had ever told me about her parents, Robin and Tracy, was exactly as she’d said. Her mom was a tall, slim, and warm-natured woman, and I could immediately see where Harper got her gorgeous looks. The genes on her mom’s side were great. My girl also had her mom’s sense of humor and we gelled right off the bat.
Winning her father Robin’s blessing about our living arrangements was a far harder feat. It was clear from the moment he and I shook hands there were bridges to mend. We had barely been introduced when he confronted me by asking if I saw Harper as a new mother for my daughter.
“Actually, I do, Robin,” I replied, honestly, “but not in the way you probably see our family situation. Harper and I were great friends before we got together. She has been part of my daughter’s life and mine since the week my late wife died. It’s been an extremely tough journey back from the sudden and devastating loss my daughter and I suffered, but I’d go as far as to say what I feel for Harper is probably a deeper love than what I felt for Grace.”
Both Harper and her father looked shocked by my statement and Harper’s breath hitched in her throat. It sounded like I was diminishing what I had with Grace, but from my reasoning, this wasn’t the case. I forced myself to go on and voice some of the thoughts I’d had in the previous few weeks.
“What my wife and I had was a very fast, romantic, and passionate relationship, full of impulse, exploration, and making life up as it happened. It was less than three years from the day I met Grace until the terrible day she died. Harper and I have known each other for several years longer than that. More than twice the time I knew Grace, and I’d go as far as to say this beautiful, sweet-natured woman saved my life.”
“Gratitude isn’t the same as love,” Robin ground out, his eyes flicking from me to his daughter.
“And I’d be the last person to disagree with what you say. While it’s true, I will always be eternally grateful to Harper because she was a godsend to me in the beginning, I can guarantee I know the difference between gratitude and love.”
“Is that so? Then you won’t mind explaining that difference to me,” he stated, not convinced and sat back in his armchair with one leg across his knee.
“Sure,” I replied unperturbed by his challenge. “Gratitude is a reaction to an act of kindness. In most cases the person receiving this act is thankful and sometimes may even want to offer something in return for the favor being received. They may even feel warmth, affection, or a loyalty toward the person who performs the kindness.”
