By the time they drove back to her cottage, Gavin was utterly and completely intoxicated by her. He unlocked her door, and when he put the keys in her hand, he drew her into his arms. He felt a difference in her, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
When he gazed into her eyes, she fidgeted nervously with her keys and said, “Do you want to come in?”
“More than anything in this world,” he said honestly.
They’d had such a good day, there was only one way he wanted it to end. But Harper had laid herself bare to him, exposing her vulnerable underbelly, and she deserved the same. Making love to her before he admitted what he’d hidden from almost everyone else in his life would cast darkness on those lights in her eyes, and he couldn’t bear to be the cause of that.
Not tonight.
Instead he said, “This was the best day I’ve had since the day I met you. But if I walk into your house with the way I’m feeling about you right now, I won’t walk back out until tomorrow.”
“Oh…um…” Desire and restraint swam in her eyes.
He lowered his forehead to hers, knowing he had to be strong enough for both of them. Their kisses told him they were on the same page, but he knew that even though Harper was coming back into her own, she might still feel like she was on tenuous ground in her own mind. There were enough obstacles for her to second-guess right now. He didn’t want to do anything that would cause her to second-guess them, so he did one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.
He kissed her good night and headed home for a cold shower.
Chapter Eight
AFTER SPENDING THE weekend with Harper, transparency became the focus of Gavin’s thoughts. He needed—wanted—to tell Harper what he’d gone through in college. Talking about it might bring back the trust issues he’d spent years overcoming, and he didn’t want to risk that with her, but he knew he had to. He’d never imagined how good sharing his space could feel, but Harper had taken him up on his offer to work from his dock, and when he’d found her, looking beautiful and immersed in her writing, down by the water Monday evening, it had made his day. Knowing she might be there made him look forward to coming home to the house he loved but had never quite made into a home. They’d gone to Common Grounds for dinner, and as he’d thought she might, she loved the people and the atmosphere. When he’d taken her home last night, he’d tried to tell her what had happened his first year of college, but she’d looked at him like he was everything she’d ever wanted, and he’d let it go. He was meeting Justin and a few of their buddies for a drink tonight, but tomorrow he and Harper were going to the Chatham Band concert, and come hell or high water, he was going to tell her.
Gavin turned his thoughts back to Mia Stone, who was leaning over the conference table at the Ocean Edge Resort. They’d spent the last two hours going over design elements for the new boutique. Photographs of artwork, catalogs for furniture and lighting, swatches of fabric, and other proposed design elements were spread over the table.
Mia’s dark hair curtained her face as she picked up the blood-orange paint sample he’d brought. “I have to admit, based on our initial meeting I thought you’d come back with pale blues and buttercup yellow, which seem to be the standard colors for coastal boutiques. I adore your bold, unexpected take on things, and I think Josh and Riley will, too.”
“Excellent. Mixing the bolder colors and textures with the lighter furniture gives the eclectic, more energetic feel you’re trying to achieve.”
“I agree,” she said as she sat down in a chair.
“Then I’ll get started on scheduling our team.” He began gathering his things and said, “Are you enjoying your time on the Cape?”
Mia crossed her legs and sat back with a relaxed smile Gavin saw a lot more often from clients since moving out of the city. “I love it here. It’s a world away from New York in terms of pace. I love New York, but this is a nice change. The people are definitely easier to work with. You don’t have any single men who like the city lying around, do you?” She leaned forward with a glimmer in her eyes. “Please tell me that you and Serena run a matchmaking business on the side.”
Mia was a beautiful woman who zipped around in skinny jeans, low-cut blouses, and sky-high heels as if they were running shoes. They had worked together over the phone for a few weeks before she’d come out to the Cape. She was professional and friendly, with a sharp sense of humor.
“I doubt you have trouble in that department,” Gavin said as he put a handful of catalogs in his briefcase.
“Getting dates isn’t a problem. Guys hit on me a lot. By the way, I appreciate that you never have. Some businessmen forget we have professional boundaries.”
Mrs. Cachelle came to mind, and he said, “We all have clients like that. I’d never cross those lines. I also have someone special in my life, and I’d never embarrass her like that.”
“That says a lot about you. I’m going to have to start hiring a PI to check out my dates before accepting. Everyone seems to have a hidden agenda.”
“I hear ya on that front.” Loud and clear, he thought with a bite of guilt. He didn’t have a hidden agenda, but he believed in honesty, and it was definitely time to show his hand to Harper.
He closed his briefcase, turning his thoughts back to Mia, and said, “Serena’s husband knows a good PI. Reggie Steele. Let me know if you want his number.”
Amusement shone in her eyes. “I know Reggie. We’ve worked with him. Gosh, I haven’t seen him in years, but maybe I should give him a call…”
They joked about Mia hiring Reggie to prequalify her dates and then circled back to discussing the boutique. Gavin promised to be in touch the following week to firm up schedules.
After he left, he received a text from Harper with a picture of her tanned, toned legs dangling off the edge of the dock, her toes skimming the water. I had a great writing day! I love working here. Thank you! How did your meeting go? Have fun with the guys tonight.
He climbed into his car and called her as he drove out of the parking lot. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Hi. I hope I’m not cramping your style by monopolizing your dock.”
He heard the smile in her voice and wished he were there to see it. “You are my style, sweetheart. Nothing you do can cramp it.”
“How did the meeting go? Did you dazzle Mia with your ideas?”
“She was almost as dazzled as I am by your smile.”
“Would you like a cracker with that cheese?”
He heard her giggle and said, “Yes, please. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Send me a selfie to tide me over until the concert.”
“Gavin Wheeler, you could charm the panties off a nun.”
Forget the nun, he wanted Harper.
They talked for a few more minutes, and then Harper said, “I’m heading home. Have fun with the guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, then the next day, and if I have it my way, every day thereafter.
IF ANYONE HAD told Harper last week that she would enjoy writing articles for the newspaper, she would have balked. She’d thought newspaper articles were a thing of her past, stepping stones to bigger, better challenges. But a lot had changed since she’d come home, including her perspective, and she owed it to the deliciously sexy man sitting on a blanket a few feet away. It was Wednesday night, and they were at Kate Gould Park in Chatham. Balloons waved in the breeze, tied to long strings attached to children’s wrists and the backs of chairs. Families and groups of friends and lovers picnicked on the lawn, chatting, dancing, and taking pictures of the forty-piece band. Gavin looked handsome and relaxed, watching a young father dance with his two adorable, pigtailed little girls by the bandstand. He’d been so patient while Harper interviewed families. She was finally holding her last interview of the night with Edna and Frank Boema, an elderly couple who had been attending the concerts for more than thirty years.