The Bride Wore Denim (17 page)

Harper giggled again, twisted in his arms and made the eensy-weensy spider with her fingers. He forced her fingers apart.

“Terrifying,” he said. “You can’t even kill a spider with a flood. It doesn’t get any worse.”

“
The Lord of the Rings
must have given you nightmares for a year. Oooh and Harry Potter . . . ”

“Do you know people show those movies to children?” He wrapped her tightly again. “You’d better do something to atone for dredging up all these horror images.”

“Hey, buddy, if
you’re
not afraid of little old me, I doubt a seven-foot spider would pay me any attention at all. I’ll throw shoes at it, but you might have to run and get Grandma Sadie to help, too.”

“And Kelly, and Leif, and probably Skylar.” He yawned and pulled her closer yet, dragging the quilt off the back of the couch and wrapping it around them both. “My little burrito. No more talk of spiders. I’m trying to maintain the illusion of the unruffleable super hero.”

“Not Spiderman, I’m guessing.”

“He wouldn’t even be my friend.”

Silence enveloped them along with the warmth from the quilt, and Harper tried not to let herself lapse back into guilt. Cole was fine with this. He claimed Mia should be, too. Harper wanted the same freedom.

“Doesn’t this feel even a little bit weird to you?” she asked, feeling for emotional footing.

“No. This feels right for the first time in a very long while. It’s kind of chick flick romantic, I’d think. The start of a love affair. Aren’t you going to get all mushy about it?”

“No.” She pushed herself away again. “I can’t do this if I look at it as a love affair. I’m not stealing you from anyone. I won’t—”

“Harpo!” He grasped her upper arms. “Since when does a love affair have to be something illicit? My father had a love affair with my mother until the day she died. And your mother and father were the same. Give us a break here.”

“But . . . love? It’s a scary word.”

“That’s enough.” He threw off the quilt and turned on her. With a serious light in his eyes that startled her, he pushed her backward onto the couch cushions and covered her with himself. Once he’d stretched fully atop her, he pulled the quilt up as well. “I have loved you as a friend for as long as I can remember. Is it weird that my body and my head can no longer see the tomboy I used to think of as my coolest buddy? No, it’s a miracle. Stop throwing up roadblocks and reasons we shouldn’t try this. Love isn’t scary, Harper. It’s an adventure—we’ve had a lot of them. Let’s take another one and see where we end up.”

As always, he freed her by tearing through the constraints she put on herself as if they were no more than paper.

“Okay. You’re right.”

She kissed him—her idea, her initiation, her excitement—and dragged the quilt over their heads to make a hot cocoon where all she could do was feel in the dark. He tasted of chocolate and smelled like soap and sheets and heat. He let her play against his mouth with her lips, biting the soft skin lightly, dotting kisses around his face, seeking out his tongue. But he only allowed her to maintain control for those first few moments of exploration before he pulled away and started his own assault. Trills and shivers of excitement radiated from her mouth to her stomach as he delved with his tongue, turning the kiss from exploration into warm, wet plunder.

He found her neck, the skin behind her ear, and the hollow of her throat. Trills turned to full-fledged waves of desire, twining down her body and building, layering her in heat. Awareness of their thin night clothing, the lack of any barriers but two layers of cloth between her suddenly aching body and his hardening one, hit her like a sledgehammer. It would take nothing to turn this into much more than the start of an adventure. The equivalent to hitting Class Five white water was two sets of sleep pants away.

“Cole,” she whispered, the words thick.

“Shhh. Trust me.”

“Fine, but I don’t trust me.”

“Good.” He laughed softly against the hollow where her neck met her shoulder. “It’ll make me look like a hero when I don’t take advantage of that.”

She couldn’t help but giggle.

“Doesn’t mean I’m a Boy Scout kind of hero, though,” he continued. “I lied about that virgin hot chocolate.”

“Oh dear, really?” She held his head and groaned as he tickled the spot behind her ear with tiny nips of his teeth and nibbles from his lips. A million mini electric shocks burst through her body. “So I don’t need to teach you how it is between a man and a woman?”

“I think we’re both pretty capable.”

He pushed himself down her body and lifted the hem of her pajama tank top to expose her navel. With soft kisses, more tiny scrapes of his teeth, and moist strokes of his tongue, he drove her senseless by working his way up the skin of her stomach to her breastbone and to the sensitive flesh of her left breast. He spanned her waist with his hands, slipped them beneath her and slid up her spine to cradle her back. Gently, he lifted her upper body to his kiss.

The tip of his tongue flicked against her nipple. Arching in pleasure, she bit her lip over a groan, conscious, barely, of her grandmother’s bedroom on the far end of this main floor.

“I’ve been imagining this for far too long,” he said.

Every inch of skin flushed with erotic pleasure at the idea of him picturing her body. “You thought about this?”

“Imagination is a guy’s best friend. Girls have the advantage. Unless we’re on a beach, you can see a lot more of us than we can of you.”

“Like during spider attacks.” She wriggled beneath him, loosening his hold and scooting downward until she could grasp his hips and yank them to her. There might as well have been nothing between his long, hard erection and her body. With a sharp sigh she nestled him against her and wrapped her legs around him. “I’ve relived that half-striptease you did for me too many times to count.”

“What? Girls are shallow, too?”

“Oh yeah.”

She rocked beneath him, knowing it was putting a match to tinder but unable to stop herself. He slid along the perfect sweet spot and groaned right over her whimper of delight.

“I told you I couldn’t trust myself,” she said.

“You don’t have to. I’ve got this.”

She closed her eyes and gave up the fight with herself. “Trust me,” he’d said. She was beyond being able to do anything else.

Two glorious minutes later she knew she’d been wrong to trust anything. Her body poised at the moment of no return and there was no way to back away from the cliff.

He coaxed her with a whisper. “Sweetheart, let go.”

She crashed into her orgasm at the mere vibration of his words in her ears. Wave after wave buffeted her, but she was safe in his embrace and the wildness couldn’t break their contact. She rode the slowly undulating crests time after time until finally, slowly Cole brought her to the end of the ride’s crazy heat.

“See, I told you I couldn’t trust you.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied.

He kissed her on the eyebrows and on the nose. Languid heaviness spread through her limbs, and all she felt were his arm beneath her neck, his hand on her cheek, and her knee between his thighs.

“What about you?” she asked dopily. “Your turn?”

“In a minute. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t think you’re a real cowboy. A real cowboy wouldn’t be this patient.”

“It’s the nice guy alter ego, remember?”

“I do. But now I want the bad cowboy.”

“I’ll see if I can find him for you.”

“Git along little doggie.” She mumbled the words, and her eyes felt incredibly heavy. “Although that doggie’s not really very little.”

“Anyone ever tell you, you’re very strange?”

The world softened, and the dark deepened and she murmured something in return but she knew Cole was too far away to hear her.

“W
ELL, THIS IS
cozy.”

That was Mia. How strange. Cole heard her voice as if it came through a wall. No, a quilt. He ignored it. And was jolted from sleep by a screech.

Okay, that was Harper. He opened his eyes as she scrambled out of his sleepy hold.

“Mia! I’m so sorry. We couldn’t sleep and got talking and we must have—”

“Good Lord, Harper, quit babbling.” Mia snapped. “You’re a grown woman. You can do whatever you want.”

“But this has to look like—”

“Like you two slept together? Yeah.”

“But we didn’t . . . ” Harper glared first at him and then at her sister.

“Um, well, we kind of did.”

He supposed his first words were less than politically correct under the circumstances, but he grinned anyway, wanting to soften Harper’s discomfort. The pain in her face, however, proved her distress was real. And he did have to admit, Mia didn’t exactly look happy either.

Which confused him, too.

“Mia, I should have talked to you first,” Harper said.

“Look.” Mia sank into the armchair across from the sofa. “I’m telling you right now, I don’t care what you did or didn’t do. I’m too tired to care. I’m too annoyed to care. I’m too frustrated to care. I want to go take a shower and crawl into bed for a few hours before I go back to the hospital. But I need to update you first.”

Cole handed Harper the quilt they’d both been wrapped in, and she bundled herself in it then started to stand. He pulled her back down. She wasn’t going to run away from him because of a little awkwardness. He wasn’t convinced Mia’s mood had anything to do with them anyway. Acting guilty would only make everything worse. Harper sat back down but kept her hands clutched inside the quilt.

“How are they?” she asked.

“It was a long night for Joely. She suffered three seizures, and about all I can say is the last one was less severe. She’d been quiet for three hours when I left. It’s impossible to tell yet whether this is part of the healing process or if there’s permanent injury. She has no reflexes in the crushed left leg, but there are normal reactions in all her other limbs. The contusions in her brain are located behind the ocular orbit—her eye socket—and behind the frontal lobe. It doesn’t look like there’s severe damage to the frontal lobe itself, which is good. But there is a lot of swelling in the brain and she’s getting a lot of steroidal meds to counteract it.”

Cole’s heart went out to both sisters. Mia recited the facts like a computer, barely remembering to translate the medical terms. Harper held her blanket-covered fists against her mouth, eyes dull and wide.

“Do they think she’ll be okay in the long run, though?” he asked.

“The next twenty-four hours will tell,” she said. “If the swelling starts to recede and the seizures stop, then they can start to be very cautiously optimistic, but for now it’s just waiting.”

“Not a lot of good news,” Cole said, and rubbed Harper’s back through the quilt.

“Well, there is where Mom is concerned. She woke up about five this morning.

“Oh, thank God.” Harper covered her eyes briefly with her hands, and her shoulders heaved with one grateful sob. Cole rubbed harder.

“In her case, the swelling in her brain has gone down, and her vitals have stabilized. She’s in quite a bit of pain, so they’re dosing her up pretty heavily right now, but I was able to talk to her for about half an hour. She doesn’t remember the accident, but she remembers everything up to it, as far as I can tell—the trip and that they had Joely’s horse in the trailer. She’s devastated about the horse, and about Joely, of course, so we’re not going into too much detail. All Mom really knows is that Joely isn’t awake yet.”

“I’m glad you were there,” Harper said. “Truly. I wouldn’t have understood anything going on. You could help Mom understand.”

Mia rubbed her eyes and didn’t say anything at first. “I don’t know,” she said. “I probably didn’t make any friends. I demanded a lot of information and got a few people out of bed that won’t soon forget. There’s one patient advocate who put me on his shit list almost right away.”

“Patient advocate?” Harper asked.

“He’s an ex-military liaison whose job it is to coordinate between the doctors and the patient and the family. Well, I’m both a doctor and family, but he didn’t for one minute care to treat me like a medical person. I’m not a hospitalist doc at the VA, so I have no standing to request specific treatments. And as a family member who isn’t her husband, I’m entitled to medical updates, but not to personal information such as insurance status or her medical history. Of course, I wouldn’t for a minute overstep my bounds medically; that would be unethical because I’m not on staff and not Mother’s physician. But I do understand what’s going on, and I demanded to be in on the consultations. This dude pretty much escorted me out of two meetings. So I went over his head.”

“Did it help?” Harper asked.

A weird, satisfied smile flitted across Mia’s lips. “I got private meetings with the doctors at six o’clock this morning. Let’s say, I wouldn’t want to be crossing the street when Lieutenant Liaison drove by.”

“See?” Harper actually giggled. “I told you I was glad it was you.”

“If they let me back in later this afternoon, I’ll know I didn’t cause us any permanent damage.” At that she rose. “That’s the story as much as I know it. I really do need to sleep, though. I’ll be less adversarial after a nap.”

“I’ll go up this morning, and I’ll take the overnight shift,” Harper said.

“There’ll be plenty of us here.”

Amelia turned for the stairs. Harper met Cole’s eyes, and the misery in her face broke his heart. He stroked her hair and kissed her temple. “It’s okay,” he said. “She’s tired.”

“Mia!” She called after her sister. “Thank you.”

“It’s what I do,” she said as she kept walking. “Make waves.”

“I’m sorry you found us like this. We really couldn’t sleep.”

Amelia turned back then, a frozen smile on her face. “I told you. Don’t worry. For crying out loud, you two are adorable together.”

When she’d disappeared up the stairs to the bedrooms, Cole gathered Harper into his arms. He tried to get her to look at him, but she held herself stiff.

“You lied,” she said.

“About?”

“She’s mad at me. This isn’t okay. It’s against the sister code; I told you that.”

“You can’t help you who love and don’t love,” he said. “I don’t love Amelia. She doesn’t love me. How is anything you or I decide to do against any sister code?”

“You’re a man. You wouldn’t begin to understand.”

“Well, I sure do admit that outright.”

Her hands flew, soft and desperate, to his cheeks. Her eyes beseeched him to understand.

“I slept with you last night, and it was wonderful.”

He grinned, but his relief ebbed when she pressed her palms against his chest and pushed him firmly away.

“Come on, Harper.”

“But it can’t happen again. Not until I talk to Mia.”

“About what?” Frustration rose like heat.

“It’s mixed up in our heads, too, believe me. But we aren’t like guys. We don’t want you comparing us, even if you never mean to do it. There’s a sort of eeew factor between sisters.”

That did it. He stood and stared down at her. “An ‘eeew factor’? Excuse me? That’s about as insulted as I’ve ever felt.”

“No, no. It has nothing to do with you. It’s between us—Mia and me.”

He blew his breath out in a hard sigh. “Fine. I’ve told you I don’t understand this, but it’s apparently real. You’re right, she was pissed. So you two work this out however you have to.”

With no apology he left the room. He truly did not understand this “code,” at least not the way she’d described it. Compare sisters? He growled in annoyance, stopped, and stomped back into the living room.

“For your information, there is no comparison between you and your sister. Even if there were anything
to
compare, it wouldn’t happen. I’ve never felt this way about any other woman—and if you think that’s an easy thing for a man to say outside some romance novel, you’re wrong. So take your . . . your ‘eeew factor’ and sleep with that next time.”

Harper’s mouth dropped open. He turned again and this time made it all the way out of the room.

“Y
OU LOOK LIKE
you could use a friend. Or a dog. Or a good nap.”

Harper lifted her head and met Melanie’s smiling hazel eyes.

“Or all three,” she replied, and stood from the recliner in her mother’s hospital room.

Arching her back, she yawned, gave her eyes a hard rub, and looked at her mother sleeping peacefully. It had been so good to reach for a hug earlier and have her return it. She’d been awake a few times in the three hours Harper had been with her. Each time she stayed awake longer and sounded a little stronger.

“There’s no change in Joely’s room,” Melanie said, her soft Southern accent somehow making the unwelcome words easier to take. “But she hasn’t had a seizure in the past hour since I got here. It’s been about eight hours now, they said.”

“Little miracles, one at a time,” Harper said.

“Let’s go get some coffee, or maybe even some lunch. They’ll sleep.”

Harper checked her watch—one thirty. Coffee sounded good. Lunch was probably necessary but sounded awful. “Sure,” she said. “I could use a walk.”

“I already got us a pager from the nurse’s station. If anything happens, they’ll let us know.”

The hospital cafeteria had a surprisingly excellent reputation. The scents from behind the long counter offering multiple dishes cooked and created on the spot, nearly awakened Harper’s appetite. She ended up with a bowl of Italian wedding soup and a half a grilled cheese sandwich. Melanie ordered a BLT and chips.

“What are the kids doing for school today?” Harper asked when they’d found a table by the large picture window. “You’re taking a lot of time to help us out, Mel. We don’t know how to thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for. Over the years your family has come to our aid plenty of times. I told you, you all are family. I set out lessons, and Skylar will help Aiden.”

“She’s a bright girl. Very talented,” Harper said. “I feel a little bond with Skylar.”

“She talks a lot about you, too.”

“Could I ask you a few questions about her? You can tell me to mind my own business any time.”

Melanie laughed. “Ask anything you like. Skylar is an open book written in a foreign language. You’ll be lucky if I can answer any questions about her.”

Harper laughed. Melanie’s words proved she knew her daughter better than anyone.

“Do you know what a good artist she is?”

“I know she loves to draw. I have no artistic ability, so I figure I’m prejudiced when she shows me her drawings and I like them. It seems an awfully big compliment for you to say she’s got talent.”

“Her talent is raw, but it’s there. I know she takes a lot of photos, too. I haven’t seen her photography work, but I’ll bet she has a good eye.”

“Now there’s a hobby that’s been a little too expensive for my tastes. She manages to earn the money to have her film developed, but I wish she’d save for a digital camera that would cost less in the long run.”

Harper nodded sympathetically. “I hear you. But in all honesty, it’s true there are things you can do with film that you can’t with digital. Once you get hooked on it . . . ”

“So I hear all the time.” Melanie sighed. “She lobbies on a regular basis for a darkroom. That’s definitely not in the budget.”

“That’s okay. She’s doing fine with the process she has. She’s still figuring out what she wants to do anyway. A darkroom might be premature.”

“Thanks. Will you tell her that?”

“I will.” Harper agreed. “Meanwhile, I know a couple easier things she wants. She’d love to have access to some art classes. Did you know that she’d love to go to a public school? Has she ever talked about it?”

“Only once a day. Sometimes once an hour when she’s really angry with me. But, that’s why we take part in the homeschooling co-op. It gives her a few other influences besides me.”

“So, going to a public school isn’t an option in your mind?”

She expected defensiveness—especially after hearing Skylar’s assessment of her mother’s view on the evils of public school. And she’d seen firsthand how strict Melanie could be. Instead, Melanie shrugged.

“I’ve told all the kids that once they get to high school, they can choose depending on how they’re doing and how much trust they’ve built. There comes a point at which they have to learn to deal with the world. Skylar isn’t there yet.” She laughed. “I can’t let her go to town without her coming home with a stray dog. What will she come home with if I let her into the world of middle school? Anything from a boy to a copy of
Playgirl
.”

“Given those two options, a boy her own age might not be such a bad choice.”

“Bite your tongue. I hope she stays moony-eyed over Cole Wainwright.”

Harper’s heart skipped a beat. She’d wanted to be furious with Cole Wainwright for being so dense and unsympathetic that morning. But with the hot memory of what they’d shared, she couldn’t possibly stay angry. In fact, she felt a little bereft on his behalf for leaving him unsated and robbing her of watching his pleasure. And then he’d gone and thrown his last dang zinger at her. “I’ve never felt this way about a woman before.”

Who could resist a line like that?

And yet, she had to.

“She’s not super subtle about Cole, is she?” Harper asked.

“Thank goodness he’s the man he is. I trust him completely.”

Harper’s heart warmed further. What sorts of amazing things must he have done to inspire such confidence in an overprotective mother like Melanie?

“He’s a good guy. A younger version would keep your daughter safe, that’s for sure.”

“Let me know if you find one of those.” Melanie laughed.

“Boys and crushes aside, did Skylar tell you about the art festival and competition in two weeks?”

“She mentioned it. It looks like it’s mostly for public school kids, and all the fund-raising goes
to
the school district. That would fly in the face of the reason I keep my kids homeschooled. I pay taxes already to a district I don’t use.”