“Because you couldn’t stand the thought of seeing another woman in my bed?” James asked. A sexy, teasing tone had slipped into his voice now.
For the first time, Harper let the warm tickle of awareness trip down her spine and didn’t try to suppress it. “Because all of your firefighter and cop buddies would show up and would torture you over it forever,” she said.
She heard the quick huff of laughter from him and felt her grin stretch.
“I’m taking this outside,” he said to someone he was with.
Harper found herself squeezing the steering wheel in what felt like anticipation.
James was making their conversation more private. She didn’t doubt for one second that James flirted, outright and blatantly, more often than not. He was not a guy who hid a lot of emotion, period. There was no way people would keep dumping things on his doorstep for care if they didn’t know he was a loving, fun, warm person. So what did he need to say to her in private that his friends couldn’t hear? For some reason, that made her feel like something more was about to come.
“Professor?”
His voice was low and rough. Over the line, she could hear he must have moved outside. There was still noise—there was always noise in the Quarter—but this was traffic noise, and the conversation was more muted, as if the people were moving past him rather than gathered around.
She swallowed, shocked to find her nipples beading just from that single word, his nickname for her. Of course, other people called her Professor. But there was something in the way James said it that made it sound sexy and affectionate at the same time. It made her think of him saying it, low and husky, against her ear, as their naked bodies slid against one another and on her cool linen sheets…
“Harper?”
She snapped out of that little fantasy. “Um, yes?”
“You said you’re not at home.”
“I’m not.”
“When will you be?”
Her breathing sped up. He hadn’t said anything like, meet me in bed, naked, in fifteen minutes, but somehow her body had heard something very much like that.
“I’m on my way home from campus.”
“You’re going directly there?”
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
“You’re on your way home?” she asked. Could he hear that her voice was breathless now? Did she care?
“Now I am.”
She smiled in spite of the fact her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it thumping through her whole body. She’d seduced the playboy by teasing him over the phone. Yeah, she felt good about that. She wasn’t a seductress by any stretch of the imagination, but maybe the tree, lizard, drunk girl, and dog had been working on James, too.
“I’ll… meet you there.”
“Yeah, you will.”
His voice was gruff, and a there was a touch of demand in the way he said that. Harper had never dated a man who was sexually dominant, but she’d read about a lot of them. Strangely, she’d always assumed she’d go for the scholarly, professor or scientist type herself. A little older than her. More mature. Confident. Not intimidated by her degrees or her own confidence.
But a little-bit-demanding, kind-of-a-big-kid, heart-of-gold-under-the-super-hot-exterior firefighter-jazz-musician type was okay, too.
“And Professor?”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure Fred’s fed and watered and walked and… not needing anything for a while.”
Harper felt her whole body go hot. “Okay.”
They disconnected without another word.
Harper drove home, her mind on everything but the city streets and things like speed zones. Of course, living in the Quarter meant she couldn’t go fast even when she wanted to. There was far too much foot traffic. She finally made it to their building, parked, got upstairs, and was in the midst of taking care of Ami when her phone dinged with a text.
Got called in. Warehouse fire. Don’t know when I’ll be home.
Her disappointment was shockingly intense.
Really fucking sorry, he added.
She believed him. Me too. Please be safe.
No worries. I’ve got a rain check with you to live for.
In spite of the disappointment, that made her smile. He was pretty sure of himself. But yes, she was definitely giving him a rain check on tonight. Don’t let that distract you while you’re supposed to be working.
It’ll be tough, but I’m a professional.
Yes, a professional, badass, life-saving firefighter. As if she could ever forget.
She was still smiling as she took a deep breath and looked around her apartment, realizing she didn’t have to worry about digging any lingerie out from the very back of her drawer tonight after all.
Dammit.
But she was fine. This was fine. She would do what she always did in the evenings after work. She’d make a little dinner, she’d hang out with Ami, and read for a while.
But as she went through her evening routine, she avoided her stack of erotic romance like it was a pile of poisonous snakes.
She hardly needed any further fodder for the heat that still coursed through her body just thinking about their conversation on the phone.
2
Now…
“It’s a baby boy?” Harper demanded, her gorgeous brown eyes wide.
James tipped the baby so she could look at him. “I’m no expert, but… yeah.”
She put her hand over her mouth in a kind of dramatic, but pretty adorable, gesture that definitely conveyed oh, shit, but in a classier way. That was Harper. Real, but classy.
God, two nights ago, he’d been on his way over here to finally kiss her. Oh, yeah, he’d intended to kiss her. And she’d known it. They’d had this whole sexy, teasing, foreplay thing on the phone, and he’d known that finally, finally she was ready. They’d been flirting for six months. He’d never spent that long seducing a woman.
Of course, he’d never used olive trees and crying drunk girls to seduce a woman before, either. But it had somehow felt like that’s what he was doing. Every time Harper answered her door, her demeanor was a little softer, she lingered a little longer, her smiles were quicker, her eyes warmer. Yeah, he’d been winning her over. Slowly, but surely. He’d been willing to take the time, too.
Sure, some of that time it had seemed like she was trying to figure out how much of him was real and how much of him was just I-want-in-your-panties teasing bullshit. The answer to that with most women was fifty-fifty. But with Harper he’d felt less and less like he was teasing her to get her into bed and more like he was teasing her just to make her smile, because it made him smile. He hadn’t even kissed the woman, yet coming home and seeing her was the best part of his day.
He knew that was a red flag for a confirmed bachelor who didn’t want to get involved. But he was starting to wonder what was so damned great about being a bachelor. He’d been watching his guy friends fall in love one by one, and when he hung out with them and the guys from down on the bayou—who were all still single and living the weekend-fling-with-hot-tourists-who-love-Southern-boys life—he had to admit the guys who were actually sharing their lives with one woman they were crazy about seemed happier and just better somehow.