Pretend You're Mine(17)
“Not bad?” She ran the brush through her hair. “Everyone gets along. Your mom’s an awesome cook. There was no bloodshed at the table. I’m starting to think you conned me into this charade with a phony story about how crazy they are.”
“There’s nothing fake about their crazy. They just haven’t shown it to you yet,” he said, starting to brush.
“Maybe you’re just overly sensitive and can’t tell normal from crazy anymore,” Harper offered.
Luke glared at her in the mirror and she laughed.
“Anyway, I had a really nice time. It was fun hanging out with everyone talking and eating and picking on each other. I like them a lot.”
Luke rinsed and put his toothbrush back in the holder. “They like you.” He was quiet for a moment, watching her brush her long hair in the mirror before skirting around her to the doorway. He paused. “Thanks for doing this.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I might be a disaster at the office tomorrow.” She winked, and he turned on a sigh and left the bathroom.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Luke sipped the coffee Harper had brewed while he was out for his run and looked out the back window. He woke up feeling unsettled. He blamed it on the fact that it was the first time he had taken a girl home to meet his parents since ... Since.
It was just a month, he reminded himself. Then everything would go back to normal. If another deployment counted as normal.
After that moment with Harper under him in the flowers, it had been a sleepless night. Looking down at her, seeing the surprise, the wonder in her eyes, it felt like a vision of things to come. Things that couldn’t be.
He thought about buying a blow-up mattress and sleeping in one of the spare rooms upstairs. But he liked waking up to Harper plastered against him. He liked knowing she was safe. And feeling those soft curves against him was bringing back to life feelings he thought were long dead. He was playing with fire, but somewhere inside, he didn’t care.
He heard the creak of the back porch swing and spotted her, shoulders hunched, swinging in the silence of early dawn.
Luke let himself out onto the back porch. Harper heard his approach and straightened up, swiping a hand over her face.
“Morning,” he said, testing the waters.
“Morning.” She said it brightly, but she wouldn’t look at him. “Just getting an early start for my first day on the job.”
He didn’t say anything. He knew a crying woman when he saw one, which, growing up with Sophie, had been often.
She jumped up from the swing and tried to step around him. He blocked her and set his coffee down on the railing.
Harper stepped to the other side and he easily met her. “Harper.” He put his hands on her shoulders, and when she still refused to look up, he nudged her chin with his fingers.
The tears in her gray eyes overflowed, coursing down her cheeks as soon as she met his gaze.
“Shit.” He pulled her in and rested his chin on her head.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled against his bare chest.
“Uh-huh.” He held her a little tighter.
“It’s nothing.”
At least that’s what he thought she said. Her voice was muffled. But she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Okay.”
He held her that way, rubbing gentle circles on her back until he felt her breath get deeper.
“You know, Harper, if you really don’t want to work for me, you don’t have to.”
The teasing helped. She leaned back looking up at him with a watery smile.
“It’s not the job. At least not yet. Who knows what kind of work environment you’ll provide? I was just having a moment, and now it’s over.”
“A moment?”
She nodded.
“And now it’s over? Just like that?”
Harper nodded again.
“Don’t you need to talk about something ... or something?”
“Nope.” She gave him a watery smile.
“As your fake boyfriend, I should probably know what you’re upset about.”
Harper laughed. “You’re very sweet and I’m fine. How about some breakfast?” She made a move to step past him, but he stopped her and grasped her wrists. She was clutching a picture in her hand.
“What’s this?” He took the picture from her and studied it.
“My parents and me.”
A miniature cherub, she was wearing a flowered dress perched on a bench between a lean man, whose smile was almost hidden behind his mustache, and a stunning blonde in a blue dress. They were all laughing.
“You were a pretty cute kid. Where are they now?”
“They died a long time ago.” Harper took the photo from him.
“I’m sorry. How long ago?”