Of Happiness (15 page)

Through the mirror I watch Harris’ attention leave his phone and drift upward. Our eyes meet and his face softens into the smile I’ve seen only seen when we’re holding each other close. Around me the girls continue the conversation, giggling about something, but nothing distracts me from the intimacy of this moment. My hand moves to my chest, rubbing circles where my heart swells with adoration.

“What if we tried something a little different than a normal messy bun?” Morgan asks, breaking me out of Harris’ powerful trance. My hand drops to my lap.

“Go for it.”

H
alfway through my mini makeover the girls migrated our workspace into the vast bathroom. Like the rest of the suite, it’s covered with blue and gray—down to the shower tile and towels. The so-called glam squad decides I need to finish getting ready in here to hide the final product from Harris until I’m ready.

I’m standing the center of the bathroom, wearing only my bra and lacy thong with my arms held straight up in the air as they carefully lower the dress into place. They’re protecting their hard work by dressing me, ensuring nothing is disturbed by the wispy fabric. Once the air light chiffon settles around my body, Morgan walks behind me to connect the neck clasp.

“Sorry about that slip up asking about your ex-boyfriend,” she says softly.

“Don’t think twice about it,” I tell her.

“Harris was cool, thankfully.”

I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “No big deal.” With the dress in place, I bend down to place my feet in the slim-heeled shoes.

“Holy shit!” Cora gasps when I stand upright.

“What?” I ask, worried.

“He’s going to freak out when he gets ahold of you,” she says.

Morgan loosely pinned the curls she created into an updo. My hair floats above my shoulders in a sophisticated coif. As instructed, Cora kept my makeup on the natural side with ballet-slipper-pink lips and a smoky eye without too much smoke.

“I love it,” I tell them truthfully. “Thank you so much for all of this. I’m blown away.”

“You know,” Cora says as she begins arranging her makeup brushes into their cases, “I never did ask where you’re going tonight.”

“He’s surprising me,” I tell them, unable to keep the smile off my face.

“Hold on to him,” Morgan instructs. “Most guys out there are complete dicks.”

Don’t I know it.

“Go get your guy,” Cora says.

The heels sink into the carpet as I wander into the bedroom.

“Harris?” I call.

“Out here, baby.”

Will his voice ever stop sending delicious tingles of anticipation through my body?

I confidently stride into the living room, but as soon as I spot him my body stops listening and stalls in place. Sure, it’s the same suit I saw a few days earlier, but the way the dark gray fabric molds to his broad shoulders and the smooth expanse of skin that his open collar reveals steals the breath right out of my lunges.

Lucky for me, Harris has doesn’t suffer the same paralysis. He stalks toward me the same way he did on our first date, exuding sex appeal. This time, there’s no wariness on my part. I can’t wait to get tangled in his embrace.

The second we’re close enough, he hauls me against him, my breasts mashing into his hard chest. The heels offer me some height, but not enough for Harris’ liking. Instead of plucking me off the ground like he normally does, he places one hand on my waist and the other cups my cheek. Then in a smooth motion, he dips my body to the side. His lips find mine in a searing kiss while he grips me tightly. As much as he demands from me in this kiss, he returns the same tremendous force.

Slowly he pulls back and rights me, but his hands don’t leave my body. They wander before settling to cup my neck. “Does that make up from the grand entrance I robbed you of on our second date?”

“You mean our first date?” A smile flirts with my lips.

“I’m sorry to interrupt the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed up close, but I want to redo your lips now,” Cora says.

Harris stares back at me, the calm, collected man reduced to a faint grin. “Go get your lips done, enticing Edith.”

Cora’s waiting for me when I turn around with a lip gloss in hand. She quickly reapplies. Within in a few minutes, she and Morgan pack up and say their goodbyes.

 “Beautiful doesn’t come close to describing you, but it’s a start.” His eyes shine with adoration.

I shake my head, biting the redone lower lip. It’s hard to believe this is my life. “Thank you,” I say softly.  

He assumes control, passing over my purse that’s waiting on the sofa. “We need to leave now before we miss our activity.”

“Activity, huh? Sounds likes we’re going on a play date.”

“The playing part comes later, Edith,” he says huskily. 

Outside, Patrick waits next to the black sedan, door open. Once I’m tucked inside, Harris settles into the backseat next to me. He stretches his arm along the length of the seat, finds the curve of my shoulders and pulls me into his side. I eagerly oblige, exhaling a content breath.

“It’s a little odd being home and letting you take the reins of our trip,” I muse as the car pulls away from the curb.

“Next time we come here, you will make the plans. Think of tonight as a gift. You wouldn’t pick out what I give you for your birthday, would you?”

“No, and please don’t think I’m complaining.” I lie my head on his chest, being careful not to muss Morgan’s hair arrangement. “Letting you take control is comforting at times.”

The tip of his thumb draws lazy circles on my exposed upper arm. “Control comforts me too,” he murmurs. In his unspoken words, I sense his vulnerability, and the reference to Cooper. The carefree attitude he once had diminished when his brother died.  

“Thank you for an afternoon of pampering. It was unexpected and surprisingly fun.”

“Then I’ll make it happen again.”

Our conversation has distracted me, and I had hardly pay any attention to where we’re headed when Patrick rolls the car to a smooth stop. The tinted windows make it difficult to figure out our location, but soon enough Harris escorts me out of the car and into the night air.

“What are we doing at the Jefferson Memorial?” I say, gesturing to the iconic national monument.

“Follow me,” Harris says mysteriously. We trek across a walking path; he’s a step or two in front of me, but still clutching my hand. The setting reminds me of a memory from college.

“Greg told Sarah he loved her for the first time here,” I blurt out. Instantly I wish I hadn’t made the comment. I’m heaping additional pressure on myself.

“Is that right?”

Even though we’re walking toward what I consider to be one of the most majestic monuments in a city full of them, I can’t take my eyes off Harris. Because he’s in front of me, I’m unable to study his facial expression, but his shoulder are tense beneath his jacket. In fact, he doesn’t appear to be paying any attention to me, his head moving back and forth slightly as he scans the monument.  

“What’s going on over there?” he asks suddenly, adjusting his body, so we’re now standing side by side.

“Where?” When I see what he’s referring to, my breath comes in quick and my hand flies to my mouth to cover a squeal.

“That’s Sarah and Greg!” I exclaim at the sight before us. Greg’s dropped down on one knee on the steps of the illuminated memorial and in his hand looks like a small red box. Sarah wipes at her face, brushing away tears while her head bobs up and down.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I hear her cry. Greg’s on his feet in less than a second, dipping down to cover her mouth in a passionate kiss.

“Harris!” I gasp, throwing my arms around his neck. “You brought me home for Sarah’s engagement?”

He catches me laughing, twirling me around in a circle. In my ear, he imitates Sarah’s words, “Yes, yes, yes.”

I wiggle down to my feet, but slide my hand around his upper arm, holding him close. “You planned this with Greg?”

“Again, yes, yes, yes. Shall we go congratulate the happy couple?”

“We can?” I ask dumbly.

He throws back his head in laughter. “You’re adorable when you’re excited,” he tells me as we move toward my friends. The staircase leading up to the monument seem unusually deserted for a beautiful summer evening.

“Where is everyone? This place is always packed.”

“Greg called in every favor he had,” Harris tells me.

At the end of their embrace, Greg carefully turns Sarah by her shoulders, so she can spot us.

“Eddie!” she yelps, letting go of Greg and skittering across the stairs in her four-inch heels.

Releasing my grip on Harris’ suit-clad arm, I race to meet her halfway. We reach each other on the platform between two sets of stairs, and our arms fly around each other’s backs in a tight hug.

“What are you doing?” she whimpers against my cheek where she presses her damp face.

“Watching you get engaged! What are you doing?”

“Wondering how in the world you got here.”

“Me too,” I say, releasing her from the embrace and taking a step back to study her. “You’re getting married! To Greg!”

“I’m getting married to Greg!” she repeats happily while a beam sends her eyes shimmering. Then we’re hugging again, laughing giddily.

“This is what they’re like together.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Greg talking to Harris with an affectionate smile pointed in our direction.

Sarah and I ignore them. I grab her left hand in mine, studying the exquisite platinum band and sparkling stone. “Elegant,” I tell her. “Just like the woman who wears it.”

The sun has long set, but Sarah’s smile practically lights the entire pavilion. “No, seriously, what are you doing here?” she asks.

I loop my arm through hers and drag her toward our men. “Harris brought me here. I can only guess that Greg invited us?”

Greg’s expression shows just how pleased he is with this scenario. “Harris and I planned this surprise together.”

Sarah hurls herself at her fiancé again, dropping her cheek to his shoulder. “I love you,” she sighs.

“I love you back,” he says softly.

Harris’ eyes find mine and then he’s next to me, fingertips resting on my wrist. He’s my steady companion, never too far away and always willing to show his affection.

“Harris. Grant,” Sarah says sternly.

“At your service,” my boyfriend replies.

“Pretty momentous gesture, flying your girlfriend across the country for her best friend’s engagement.”

“Every day I’m trying to convince her that I’m worth her time. An overnight trip to Washington, D.C. for Edith to celebrate with you is hardly a burden.”

 My cheeks heat and I fight the urge to hide my face in his chest. Sarah will eat this up, especially because his tone runs deep with sincerity.

“Good point.” Sarah nods her approval.

“This engagement isn’t over yet,” Greg pipes in.

“It’s not?”

“Our car’s waiting to take us to the next portion of this evening,” Harris informs Sarah and me. We spilt into pairs while we walk to the car. Even though Harris is the newest addition to our tiny group of friends, I almost forget what it was like when he wasn’t here. It’s like we were a puzzle missing one piece. As soon as I found him, he fit perfectly and completed the picture of this friendship.

S
omehow, the elevator ride proceeding the engagement party back to the penthouse of the North West Park Hotel remains chaste. The stroll down the hall toward the room practically platonic. But once the door clicks shut, restraint falls away.

We’re barely two steps inside when Harris halts my progress forward by placing his hands on my shoulders. His fingertips walk across my shoulder and the top of my back until he reaches the clasp of my dress. With the flick of his fingers, he releases the latch. He drops his hands to the hem of the skirt, dragging it upward, the deliciously light fabric igniting all of the nerves of my skin. Once again, I lift my arms to help with the task, but this time it’s Harris removing my dress than it being placed on. With a gentle tug, I’m reduced to my scant undergarments. I hardly notice where he places the dress; I’m hungrily assessing him.