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As far as that went, were we even dating? Was that what this was?
I murmured, “Let’s save this discussion for another day,” and went to find my running shoes.
Once my suitcase and guitar were packed, I got dressed and looked around my apartment. There was actually one more thing I wanted to take with me to Hawaii, so I found a paperboard folder and gathered the most recent songs I’d been working on. I flipped through them quickly, and Harper peered over my shoulder and asked, “Are those your new songs? Can I see?”
“No, because they suck.” I stuffed the papers into the folder and slid it into my messenger bag.
I decided not to mess with my lavender-scented SUV, so after I locked up my apartment we loaded my mismatched luggage into the back of Harper’s Escalade. He rested his hand on my thigh and sang along with the radio as he drove us across town and up into the Hollywood Hills. Meanwhile, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sound of his voice. It was deep and rich with a gravelly edge, and I thought it was as sexy as he was.
Once we got to the house, I said, “I’m going to call your agent before jumping into the correspondence we started last night. Anything you want me to tell her?”
He looked pained. “Tell her I’m sorry I’ve been flaking, and I promise to get to those scripts this week.” Then he glanced around the living room and said, “I’ll join you in a few minutes. I just want to find Loco first.”
“I’m actually surprised you didn’t bring her last night.”
“I was going to, but she was curled up with Kel in his room and it didn’t seem like she wanted to go with me. I think she’s still mad at me for leaving her over the weekend.” He turned to me and asked, in all seriousness, “How long do you think a chicken can hold a grudge?”
“I’m pretty sure the answer is either forever or about three seconds, but what do I know?”
“Well, I’m going to find her and bribe her with food. Maybe then she’ll forgive me.”
I headed to the office while he went in search of the chicken, and I grinned when I saw the reminders of what we’d done the night before. I raised the blinds and slid a panel open in the glass back wall to let in some fresh air, because there was a faint, lingering smell of sex in the office. Then I picked up the blanket and apron from the floor and stashed them both in a guestroom.
After that, I sat behind the desk and started to gather the wedding invitations. Something felt off, and after a few moments I realized what it was. I shoved the desk back into its usual position while replaying the vivid memory of how it got pushed out of alignment. I had to ignore my growing hard-on as I turned on the computer and got to work.
Once I checked his emails and got the paperwork back in order, I contacted Harper’s agent to ask about the scripts he’d been sent. It turned out two of the parts had already gone to other actors, because the studios had gotten frustrated by his lack of a response. She’d received some new scripts though, and made arrangements to send them to the house that afternoon.
While we were talking, Harper and his chicken appeared on the pool deck. He’d changed into a form-fitting white polo shirt and pale blue shorts, and he looked sexy as ever.
He sat down at a table with an umbrella and proceeded to hand-feed Loco some strawberries while carrying on a one-sided conversation with her. I didn’t understand why he loved that chicken so much, but I thought it was sweet.
After I got off the phone, I turned my attention to the wedding invitations. The first thing I did was email Harper’s accountant with the information for the wolf conservation center and the list of names for the donations, and he replied soon after promising he’d send twenty grand that week.
That just left the RSVPs. I’d gotten through most of them when loud voices caught my attention. Kel had brought three guys out to the pool deck, and I recognized a couple of them as Harper’s douchey actor friends. They greeted each other with backslapping hugs, and a brunet named Jared said, “I was looking at a house for sale two blocks from here, so we decided to drop by and see if you were home.”
Harper asked, “So, are we going to be neighbors?” While they were talking, Kel scooped up the chicken and took her inside.
“Nah. I’m not dropping seventeen million on a place with a fucking tiny home theater and no pool house.”
I whispered, “God forbid,” and tried to concentrate on the notes I was writing.
