Page 56 of Seeing Harper

“Because he’s Clay. I care that he gets there safely.”

“Mmhmm. Are we developing a soft spot for Clay?”

“We’ve always had a soft spot for Clay, just like the rest of our Pride.”

“You know what I’m saying, Harper,” Summer said. “And don’t evade the questions. I’d have all the answers already if you hadn’t fallen asleep before we talked about whatever it is you wanted to talk about.”

“No, I don’t know what you’re saying. Besides, I think he’s found his mate. Stop making a big deal of it.”

“Who is she?” Summer asked, sitting up in bed.

“I don’t know. He just implied that he’d met her, but she didn’t know yet.”

“Well, gee, don’t sound so happy for him,” Summer said, lying back again.

“I am happy for him,” Harper said.

“You sound like I just went storming out of here. You know, like, lost your best friend.”

Harper shook her head and made a face at her. “I think I said stop making a big deal out of it.”

“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.”

“Are you getting up or not?!” Harper asked, playfully swiping at Summer’s arm, before she rolled herself out of bed to stand beside it and stretch a few times.

“No. Doesn’t he know that you worked all weekend with the horses? You should be able to sleep in,” Summer complained, reaching for the covers and pulling them up to her chin.

“My dad? That’s usually when he works me harder.”

“He’s a…” Summer lowered her voice and glanced around the room before she finished her statement, “not so considerate father.”

Harper burst out laughing. “That’s the best you can do?”

“With him possibly listening? Yes.”

“Are you moving in there? Breakfast is ready!” Travis called from the kitchen.

“Are you coming with me?” Harper asked, looking at Summer hopefully.

“Do I have to? I’m tired,” Summer said.

“Please come with me,” Harper begged.

“I don’t want to get up,” Summer whined.

“Fine. I’ll just post this on my social media,” Harper said, quickly turning her phone toward Summer so she could glimpse the photo Harper had taken while she was still sleeping.

Summer squealed angrily. “Where did you get that?!” she demanded.

“Right when we were waking up and you hadn’t moved yet,” Harper said.

“Don’t you dare post that!” Summer threatened.

“Good news is, when Dad cooks breakfast, he makes everything he can find, including pancakes, bacon, eggs, hash browns. I mean, we can’t even consider eating again until about 2.”

Summer lifted her nose into the air and sniffed. “Ohhh, it does smell heavenly. Hang on, I think I smell Clay.”

“It’s your imagination. Come on. Let’s get moving,” Harper said, on her way to her bathroom to lock herself in and slather more scented lotion on herself.