“Good idea, bring a notepad,” he snapped. “I’ll join you.”
The Hartman parents exchanged looks and the two men left the room.
Yep, tension was thick in here tonight.
I heard the front door close in the distance and footsteps sounded in a distant room of the house. Probably one of the small rooms I passed on the way to the kitchen.
I knew it was him and he must have known I was here from my car being in the driveway.
I tried to focus on the task at hand. I heard his voice in the distance and he didn’t sound happy.
“Sounds like a problem at work?” Grace asked her husband when he stepped back into the room to grab something from the fridge.
“Gee I wonder why,” he muttered.
I had a feeling I knew what the elephant in the room was now.
A few minutes later the conversation in the other room stopped with what sounded like a final command from August. He stepped into the room, clean shaven, sharp with dark jeans and a gray long sleeved shirt. His hair was brushed to the side instead of dry and wavy like Troy’s. His black framed eyeglasses seated on the bridge of his nose.
His green eyes found me instantly and dipped down to find me working on the cupcakes. And though his gaze brushed mine, he didn’t hold it. Not even for a second. Instead, he turned to his mother. “I’ve got to take another call upstairs. Shouldn’t be long.”
“Excuse me,” his mother objected. “We have a guest.”
I cleared my throat. “Hello, August,” I offered from across the kitchen. “Great to see you again.”
His expression was blank. “Same,” he said just before his phone rang. “Excuse me.” He answered on the first ring. “Eddie, hi.” He stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Yes, everything you see is up to date, if anything looks off, let me know and I’ll—”.
A pause and it sounded like the entire house went silent.
“This a new one?” Grace asked.
“It’s thebigone,” Robert answered.
My stomach dropped. No wonder he seemed stressed.
I finished the cupcakes and set them aside to help Grace with dinner prep.
“You’re not going to learn anything by watching, you know?” I heard Robert say when he stepped out into the living room.
“Hey mom, can I have a beer,” Troy called.
“I’ll make you some herbal tea.”
August returned to the kitchen a few minutes later.
“August, why don’t you pour Harper a glass of that bottle she brought over on the table?”
He turned toward the small kitchen table with a brow slightly raised, then walked over lifting the bottle, examining it.
“Good choice.” I heard him whisper, before striding over to the counter I stood behind as I diced tomatoes. He reached above, to the hanging rack and removed two glasses, setting them between us.
It was a wide enough counter, but his proximity made me ache to touch him again. He was working slowly, spinning the bottle, slightly after popping it open. “You’re supposed to let it air out for a bit.”
I swallowed, feeling as if I’d faint if he spoke in that gruff voice to me again and held up my glass. “Would you just pour the damn wine?” I urged under my breath.
His lip twitched and he reached out to grasp my shaky hand, steading the glass. The moment our fingers touched, an electric shock jolted through my body and any doubt I had that this was the same man who touched me in the finest places, was gone.
This washim.
