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Knocked Up

Page 96

by Number Ninety

“I don’t have any prep to do,” she says. “Just ordering and some contracts to send out.”

“Okay so breakfast then to bed with you.” I tuck an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. “After we talk about what you said in the hospital parking lot.”

Her gaze slides away but only for a moment. Then her chin lifts and her eyes fix on mine and she nods. “Yes,” she agrees. “It’s about time we do exactly that.”

God, she’s so damned strong.

I love that about her.

Then again, there are a lot of things to love about Harper—her work ethic, her talent in the kitchen, her kind heart, her perseverance.

She’s a good woman.

A good person.

And I’m going to protect that.

We walk inside, pick a few things from the thankfully still full case. I commit her choices to memory then rebuff her offer to pay. “You want to find a table?” I ask, handing her the placard with a number printed on it.

Her eyes flick down to it.

Then back up, something drifting through the golden-green depths that has me following the path of her gaze.

Number ninety.

My lips curve, and she exhales. “Hockey players and their numbers.”

I grin. “We’re all egotistical bastards.”

She laughs, takes the number. “Thanks for breakfast.”

I pay, snag our plates, nod when the woman behind the counter tells us it’ll be just a couple of minutes for our coffees, then head over to the corner table Harper selected.

It’s tucked away, and I’m glad.

Because I need to level with her, to explain.

Only, as I sit down next to her, I find that words are extremely hard to come by.

Mostly because they seem…inadequate.

I open my mouth, close it. Pick up my muffin. Put it down. Then open my mouth again. Then close it.

Harper settles her hand on mine before I can reach for my muffin again.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

My shoulders go tight. “It’s not that. Or not exactly that,” I add then sigh. “It’s mostly that I just don’t know where to start.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“How about why you left that morning?”

“Because I felt what you described. Because it was like the moment I laid eyes on you, my soul relaxed. I had to talk to you, had to get to know you, had to touch you.”

Her lips part on a surprised breath.

“That whole night was magic…” I scrub my hands over my face. “Then I woke up and my phone was a shitshow.”