“I’ll think about it,” Harper said.
But then she smiled at him and he was certain that, for just a moment, the rain stopped pouring.
20
“I’m in trouble because of you,” Fraser said as he fetched a rattling set of keys from his jeans.
Harper fiddled with the sleeve of her jumper, feeling coy as she waited for him to open the white front door. She hadn’t known what to expect when he’d offered to take her to his house: it was hard to imagine he lived anywhere that wasn’t made from the trees he spent all day caring for. But they’d meandered back through Belbarrow, passing quiet avenues of terraced houses and, at the very end, a crooked collection of narrow cottages set beside an empty playground on a marshy football field.
He’d halted at the end of a street named Farmview Way. His house was set back behind a withering garden and a row of neat hedges. Beside her, a drain gushed rainwater, and she sidled under the portico to keep dry. There, she noticed a black cat hiding behind the dustbins, tail wafting as its alert green eyes watched Fraser open the door.
“Why are you in trouble? But more importantly, is that your cat?”
He mumbled something nondescript, no doubt about her short attention span. “The neighbour’s. She’s Bernard’s buddy. She’s always waiting for him to come out.”
Speaking of whom, the dog’s barks echoed behind the door. Once it opened, a blur of white and brown raced towards them. Harper giggled, bending down to greet Bernard properly.
“Come on. Let’s get dry.” Fraser ushered them all inside, then kicked off his boots. He disappeared down a narrow corridor into what looked to be a kitchen and opened the back door, commanding Bernard to do his business.
Harper hovered on the welcome mat, feeling suddenly out of her comfort zone. It had been easy to convince herself she didn’t know Fraser well enough to fall for him, when she’d only seen half of his life.
But here was the other half. Pictures of his sisters, nieces, and nephews on the walls. The fragrance of spiced apples and fresh laundry in the air. While he refilled Bernard’s food and water bowls, she crept forwards and peeked into the living room. A cream throw was draped across the back of a grey couch. Toys and books were cluttered haphazardly in one corner, and in another, a shelf was piled with a jumble of DVDs, CDs, and books. A fireplace spanned one wall, a TV mounted above it. It was nice. Cosy. A perfect mixture of chaos and stability.
Bernard came in and shook the water from his fur, leaving paw prints on his way to the food bowl.
“You don’t have to wait there,” Fraser said, closing the door on the rain before returning to her. “I’ll grab you a clean towel, and you can take that shower.”
Harper really was looking forward to a hot shower, even more than she’d like to admit. Still, Fraser wasn’t looking at her properly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to take her clothes off in a place where she didn’t feel completely safe.
“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in trouble because of me?” Her heart hammered against her ribs as he drew closer.
He barely seemed to be listening, his gaze roaming her features, slow and intent, as though seeing her for the first time. That familiar tension throbbed between them, and it was an effort to remain still beneath its weight. “I was supposed to be working with Andy at the B&B,” he explained. “They aren’t happy that I disappeared on them.”
“I’m sure they’ll forgive you– but you can’t blamemefor it. I was minding my own business. It isn’t my fault you’re devastatingly obsessed with me.”
The ghost of a smirk crossed his face. But it wasn’t enough to reassure her.
“Why have you fallen out with me, Fraser?” She nudged him, hoping he didn’t hear the crack of vulnerability in her voice.
Fraser frowned as he swiped a damp ringlet from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear, rough fingertips grazing her skin. “I haven’t fallen out with you, sunshine. What are you on about?”
“You’ve been… off. And you made a scene in the café, in front of your sister. You were angry.”
He scraped his hair back and huffed. “Aye, because I drove around all afternoon, wondering if you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”
“Again,why?” Harper asked. “I was fine, and I’m not your responsibility.”
“The authorities might disagree if they find out a woman living under my roof went missing.”
Ah. So that’s what it was.It wasn’t that he cared, not really.
She turned away. “Lucky you got off easy this time, then.” She made to brush past him, assuming the shower he’d promised would be up the carpeted stairs, but he reached out and drew her close, so close that her breath caught in her throat.
“And I was worried about you,” he muttered. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” she repeated with a hint of snark, though lust and something far hotter, far rawer, bloomed within her.
He kissed her lightly, his mouth feathering across her cheek. “Sorry for being a bastard.”
