She felt his quick, surprised breath, and then his hands slid across her shoulders, pulling her to him, as he deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue.
After a second, he pulled back, and looked down into her eyes.
“Where did that come from?” He was breathless, his face flushed.
“Does it matter?” Harper leaned back in her chair, enjoying how flustered she’d made him.
“I’ll tell you one thing, Harper McClain,” he said. “You never stop surprising me.”
* * *
They talked for more than an hour. Harper switched to soft drinks while Dells nursed another Scotch.
By the end, they’d agreed that, one way or another, she had to be out of the house by Friday at the latest.
“If you won’t come stay with me, stay in a hotel.” He’d gestured at the building around them. “This place would do. I’ll bet they have space.”
When she tried to explain that she’d just spent most of her savings on a gun, and this place probably cost two hundred dollars a night, he’d waved that away. “I’ll pay for it. If money’s the problem you haven’t got a problem.”
She’d argued but he was adamant, and by the time they left the bar, she felt better. Things were in motion. As they headed to where she’d left her car, in the lot behind the newspaper building a few blocks away, they walked side by side not touching, but almost.
It was after two in the morning; there were no cars on the street. A cool, damp breeze blew in off the river, but Harper didn’t really notice. She was noticing the way his lips curved up just a little when he caught her eye.
When they reached her car, she pulled him to her without hesitation, sliding her hands inside the warmth of his jacket. Raising her lips to his.
Kissing him wasn’t like kissing Luke. It was less urgent. Less familiar. But she had to put Luke out of her mind. After all, he was kissing someone else now, too.
The heat of him against her, the feel of his body against hers—she needed it. She needed to be wanted. To be desired.
When Dells lifted his lips from hers and gazed down into her eyes, they were both breathless.
“You’re one hundred percent positive there’s no way I can talk you into spending the night at my place?” He pressed his forehead lightly against hers. She could smell the smoky scent of Scotch on his breath. “Because I would give almost anything for you to come home with me right now.”
She smiled, and shook her head.
She liked Dells, but she needed time. Everything was happening so fast.
Whether she liked it or not, Luke was a constant presence in her mind. Somehow, she needed to let him go before she could really be with someone else.
“I’ve got a lot to think about,” she told him.
She could see in his eyes that he knew this wasn’t the whole story. But he didn’t pressure her.
“I can wait. I don’t want to. But I will.”
“Where are you parked?” She pulled out her keys. “I could give you a lift.”
He pointed to the far corner of the lot, where an Audi sports car was tucked away in the shadows. “No need. I figured the least MaryAnne Charlton owed me was a free parking space for the night.”
Laughing, Harper climbed into the Camaro, rolling down the window before starting the engine.
“I’m going to ask around about an apartment for you. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He raised his voice to be heard above the sound. “And probably the day after that.”
“I’d like that.” She put the car in gear.
He stepped back, arms spread. “And my guest room is always waiting.”
She was smiling as she drove away.
All the way across the marshes, she tried to imagine being in a relationship with him. Dells had a way of fixing things. He saw a problem and envisioned a solution almost simultaneously.
There was something wonderful about that.
But she also wondered if she would ever stop thinking of him as the guy who used to sign her paychecks.
She was almost to Tybee when a pair of headlights appeared in her rearview mirror.
Her mouth went dry.
She kept her eyes on the lights as she curved through the last stretch of highway, waiting for it to get closer. But then the bridge appeared ahead, the headlights dropped back, and she was safely through.
A few minutes later, she pulled into the driveway of the little cottage, parking under the tree in her usual spot. Overhead, a waning moon cast a pale blue light as she made her way to the front steps.
Zuzu was sitting on the porch, watching her with judgmental green eyes.
“Did Myra feed you?” Harper asked, pausing to stroke her soft back. “Don’t worry. I’ll never do it again.”
She straightened and raised her key to the first of the three locks. That was when he stepped out of the shadows beside the house.
His military posture, broad shoulders, and gray hair were instantly recognizable.
The keys slipped from Harper’s nerveless fingers, landing on the front porch with a clatter of metal. Zuzu leapt from the porch and melted into the darkness behind the house.
“You,” Harper whispered.
“I thought it was time we met.” His voice was deep and authoritative, with no hint of Southern accent. “There are some things we need to talk about.”
25
For a moment that seemed to last forever, Harper stood frozen. Around them, the island was sound asleep. Nothing stirred. They were completely alone.
There was a gun in the bag on her shoulder, but she knew if she made a move for it, everything would be over.
Blazer had been right about that holster.
The man stepped into the light. “I think you have some questions for me. Can we go inside?” He held up his hands the way you might try to calm a frightened animal. “I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”
His words spurred her to action. Bending swiftly, she swiped the keys from the porch and held them like a weapon. “How do I know that’s true?”
“Frankly, Miss McClain, if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t be standing here talking,” he said, bluntly. “I’d be hurting you.” He took another small step. “All I ask is that you give me a chance to explain. Don’t notify anyone that I’m here. If you do that I’ll have to leave and I will never come back. And you will never have the answers you’re looking for.”
He spoke calmly and with confidence. Like a cop.
Harper wavered. She desperately needed to hear what he had to say. But she knew nothing about him. Nobody knew this was happening.
In the end, though, there was no question what she would do.
She fumbled with the keys, hoping he couldn’t see her hands shaking. “You have to tell me everything this time,” she warned. “Or you can just leave now.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he said.
He kept his distance until the door was open. Only then did he slowly walk up to join her, keeping space between them as Harper turned on the lights and motioned wordlessly for him to sit. Slowly, he lowered himself onto the chair she indicated and sat still, as if trying not to startle her.
He was a tall man—the small living room seemed smaller with him in it. Harper perched stiffly on the sofa across from him. She placed the bag holding the Glock at her feet.