Изменить стиль страницы

There was also nothing to do about the state of her hair, which was Bed Head 5000 no doubt do to Liam’s hands. At least she could do something about the eyeliner and mascara that made her resemble a grunge band groupie.

She turned the faucet on, noises be damned at this point, and stuck her hands underneath the cool water before she took a few mouthfuls. She splashed her face, scrubbing at the space under her eyes. The hand towel next to the sink was clean and she ran the fluffy fabric across her skin, wiping up the drops. There was a stock of tiny bottles of mouthwash in the mirrored cabinet above the sink and she helped herself…might as well at this point.

When she shut the door and caught her reflection in the mirror she had to close her eyes to block out the image of who she found staring back at her. She had no idea who she was in that moment. She was not easily scared…yet there she was…running.

But really, after everything that had happened over the last few months it wasn’t all that shocking.

Harper wasn’t quick to fall in love. At the age of twenty-six she could count on one finger how many men had gotten that far. Brad had done much more than broken her heart; it wasn’t just a crack down the center. It was shattered into a million teeny, tiny pieces. And no, she wasn’t being over-dramatic.

He’d decimated her.

He’d shown up in Mirabelle about a year and a half ago, a general contractor who’d been hired by the county to fix the bridges and roads. He’d met Harper and swept her off her feet. She wasn’t easily swept. Never had been.

Maybe it was because of her father. Paul Laurence had set the bar very high when it came to a good man, and all of the guys she’d dated over the years had definitely fallen short.

At least until Brad…or so she thought.

So yeah, she was running. She had no other choice and her escape time was counting down fast. She gathered her purse—all the while still avoiding her gaze in the mirror—before she stepped out into the hallway.

She was so intensely focused on getting out of there that she didn’t take in the rest of her surroundings, like how the massive stone fireplace in the living room was a thing of glory, or that the cabin was settled on a lake that could be seen sparkling through the windows that made up the entirety of the back wall, nor did it register that the kitchen smelled like freshly brewed coffee.

All Harper saw was the solid wood of the front door, which was why she jumped out of her skin when the voice spoke out behind her.

“Forget this?”

Her purse flew into the air, hitting the floor with a thud. She clutched her chest and spun around. Liam was leaning back against the counter, her bra dangling from his forefinger, swaying just slightly in the air.

Okay, yes it was true that she’d gotten to see his body up close and personal the night before, but there was something to be said about seeing it in the daylight. Actually there was a lot to be said about it. She just couldn’t do that much talking as her brain had temporarily short-circuited.

He was wearing nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs and a smile, his washboard abs giving her the strangest urge to do laundry. She looked like death warmed over and he looked…well, glorious.

“Your bra wasn’t the only thing that you forgot, either. I don’t get a good-bye, Harper?”

“I figured it would be better,” she said as she reached up and attempted to smooth her hair. She had no doubts that she did not succeed.

He leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, her bra now hanging at his side. “Better for whom?” His mouth quirked to the side, making him look infinitely sexier.

The jerk.

“Look, we don’t have to do this whole awkward morning-after thing,” she said, making a gesture between the two of them.

“Perfect.” He nodded his head as he reached up and scratched his beard, the sound of his nails on his scruff reaching her ears from across the room. He used the hand that was still holding her bra and it swayed with the motion, taunting her like a freaking red flag…even though it was navy blue.

“Then I’ll just get going.” She took her eyes off of him, so not an easy thing to do, and went to grab her purse on the floor.

“Why?”

“What?” Her head came up and she straightened.

“Why are you leaving?”

“I thought we just established this.”

“No, we established not having the awkward morning-after thing. We never established you leaving,” he said, shaking his head.

“Do you plan on making this as uncomfortable as possible?”

“I was thinking about it. But if you head out that door I think you’ll make yourself plenty uncomfortable all on your own.”

“Meaning?”

“How were you planning on getting back to the bar?”

Well, that had her coming up short. “I hadn’t really thought that out.” She hadn’t really thought anything out as was evident by her current predicament.

“It’s three miles to the main road, and another five to the Second Hand Guitar. And as you don’t know where you are I would imagine it would be difficult to call a cab. Also I don’t think you’d get far walking in those shoes of yours before your feet started to kill you.”

“Well, isn’t this the perfect setting for a horror movie.”

A laugh escaped his mouth and he shook his head. “I was actually going for the perfect setting for a romantic comedy. Boy meets girl, boy takes girl home and gives her multiple orgasms, boy makes girl breakfast the following morning.”

Okay, she was going to ignore the romantic comedy comment. “Look, Liam, last night wasn’t something that I’ve ever done before. I’m not the kind of girl who goes home with men I just met.”

He tilted his head to the side and his grin somehow widened. “See, we have something in common. I don’t go home with men I just met, either.”

The corner of her lip twitched despite herself.

“Is this something you do for all of the girls you have one-night stands with?” The question was out of her mouth before she thought better of it, and she inwardly cringed at her words. She was that girl. The one-night-stand girl.

His head straightened and he studied her for a second, the humor in his eyes gone. “First of all, I’ve never made breakfast for any girl that I’ve brought home. And second, I wouldn’t classify you as a one-night stand.”

His words had her coming up short again. She couldn’t get her brain to connect with her mouth to say anything.

“Let me cook for you, Harper. Then I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, to ask that he just drive her back now. She wasn’t sure what it was, the fact that he hadn’t called her a one-night stand or the intensity in his gaze, because the word “okay” slipped past her lips. And judging by the look on his face, she wasn’t the only one shocked by it.

“Good.” He pushed himself off the counter and crossed the space to her, reaching out to hand her the bra when he was close enough. When she grabbed it he didn’t let go. His green-gold eyes focused on hers as his free hand slipped around her waist and he moved in closer. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

He hesitated for just a moment, giving her a second to object…but just like the night before she found herself objectionless. She couldn’t think straight around this man, not when he was speaking, or looking at her, or breathing in her general direction. And now he had his hand on her, his mouth just inches from hers.

She gave a small nod before he lowered his head. His lips gently brushed hers and his fingers tightened at her hip, bringing her flush against his body. She couldn’t stop herself from sighing in pleasure, and the second her mouth was open he took full advantage, dipping his tongue inside. She wasn’t the only one who’d taken a moment to freshen their breath, either, and he tasted so incredibly good.