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Authors: Shannon Richard

BOOK: Unsung
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Neither Harper nor her father said anything as Delilah's footsteps echoed up the stairs. And it was only after the bedroom door slammed shut that Paul finally did speak.

“Liam James is the guy who sings ‘Against the Odds'?”

“Yes.” The word came out on a whisper.

“And he knows that you're pregnant and that he's the father?”

“Yes.”

“And he's going to be involved?” he asked, still revealing nothing.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Paul nodded slowly, clearly still trying to process.

“I'm sorry, Dad. This isn't how things were supposed to happen.” She didn't look away from her father's gaze. She couldn't. She was still waiting for it to reveal something.

Anything.

“How do you know?” he asked, tapping his forefinger against his chin.

“What?”

“How do you know it wasn't supposed to happen exactly like this?” And there it was, the twitch to his lower lip. “Sometimes you have to believe that things happen for a reason. And that's how I'm going to look at this, because I can't think of my first grandchild from my only daughter any other way.”

Hope. All she felt was hope at her father's words. “You're not disappointed in me?”

The twitch in his lower lip turned to a smile. “Not even in the slightest. No one is perfect, sweet pea.” He reached for her face, touching her chin and pushing it up, his wordless way of telling her to hold her head high. “If we were, life would be pretty boring.”

A soft laugh escaped her mouth. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Your mom…she'll come around.”

“You sure about that?” Harper raised one of her eyebrows, not so sure of her father's statement.

“You know how well she deals with shocking news.”

“You mean she doesn't.”

“Exactly. But she'll get there, and you know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because she loves you. And she's going to love your child, too. She's just got to adjust. And she will.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Paul said as he pulled his daughter in for a hug. Holding her close for a good minute before he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back so he could look at her face. “So tell me about him. Tell me about the father of my first grandchild.”

Her dad's mouth flickered up at the corners when he said the last word, his eyes twinkling more than a little bit.

For the first time since Harper walked in the front door, she took a full breath without that painful constriction over her chest. Yet another reason she'd been beyond stupid to keep the truth to herself. Once it was out there, she'd felt so much better. Could breathe again and not feel like she was suffocating in the slightest.

The truth will out. And for her, when it was out it was so much better.

W
hen Liam first started opening for Isaac Hunter, he was lucky if the seats in the auditoriums were half-filled. The people around the stage were usually only those who were staking out their spots for the main show, while the other forty percent of the space remained empty. But within the last year, the seats had started to fill up before he hit the mike, and the people around the stage were the majority of the crowd that were going to show up for the night.

People were no longer
forced
to listen to him. Now they were there because they
wanted
to hear his set.

That being said, the size of the crowd had never had any effect on his performance. He put on a good show no matter the circumstances. He had to. It was his job. But never had that part of his job been as difficult as it had been during those weeks right after Harper had left him in Nashville.

He'd opened for fifteen concerts during that time, and for every single one of those performances it had taken everything in him not to phone it in. This was not the case anymore.

It had been eleven days since he'd seen Harper in Jacksonville, twelve since he'd found her, and in that time he'd opened for eight concerts. For Liam, each performance had been better than the last. If anything, the show he was currently rocking out on the stage might just be the best so far. And when he got to “Forever”—the song he'd written about Harper—he killed it.

Maybe it was because when he sang the song it was no longer physically painful. He'd been able to get the words past his throat without feeling like the biggest tool on the face of the planet. Maybe it was because he was talking to her on a daily basis. Maybe it was because he was going to see her in less than twenty-four hours.

Maybe it was everything that had to do with her.

So okay, things weren't perfect yet. Far from it. She actually still didn't know about the song he'd written about her. Well, he was pretty sure she didn't know more about it than when he sang it to her in May. And as it wasn't going to be released on the radio for another couple of weeks, he figured he still had a little time.

He just didn't want to freak her out again. They were in a good spot, or as good as it was going to get when all they had going was electronic communication. So he was taking advantage of the time, because it was going to take time to figure out what was going to happen with them. No matter what, she would be a part of his life forever. She was the mother of his child.

He was going to be a father…a freaking father. That was a reality he knew and though it was more than a little scary, it was an exciting scary. The kind he wanted to run toward and not away from.

“I don't know what's gotten into you lately.” Isaac grinned at Liam as he walked backstage, the crowd chanting his name at ear-splitting levels. That was something new. “But you better keep it up. That, my friend, was
incredible.

“Thanks.” Liam tipped back a cold bottle of water, so thirsty it was kind of ridiculous that he hadn't noticed it until now.

“Go take a breather. We'll see you onstage for “Practice Makes Perfect,” and you better bring your A-game for the guitar solo,” Isaac called after him.

“Always do.” Liam grinned as he headed for one of the rooms at the end of the hallway.

The second the door closed behind him, he reached for the back of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. It had been hot out on the stage and he needed a clean one that wasn't sticking to his skin.

But before he could grab another shirt he was reaching for his phone. As was the norm of late, when he hit the Home button the screen lit up showing texts from Harper. He found himself grinning like an idiot—something else that was becoming the norm—as he entered the code and pulled up their text conversation.

My three facts of the day:

1. When I was in the seventh grade I played the part of Esmeralda in The Hunchback of Notre Dame for our school play.

2. I know the lyrics to every N'SYNC song by heart (I know. Don't judge me.)

3. I've seen Jurassic Park more times than I can count. And when I see it on TV I have to watch it.

Her last text was followed by a picture of a TV, the Tyrannosaurus rex from the movie running across the flat screen. She was zoomed out far enough that he could see her legs propped up on an ottoman. There was a yellow blanket spread across her lap and Luna was nestled between the folds, her little black head just peeking out and looking up at the camera.

Liam studied the rest of the picture, taking in what was around the TV. It was sitting on a black entertainment console with candles, picture frames, and books filling the shelves. There was a floral painting hanging on the light green wall above it.

Tomorrow he was going to see the room in person. He was going to see her. That fact added to the current euphoria pumping through his body.

The baby wasn't the only exciting thing he wanted to run to—sprint to more accurately. He wanted Harper even more than he had in May. Even more than when he'd spotted her across that bar and been drawn to her like a freaking moth to the flame.

Even though she'd left him without a word, even though she'd waited through all those weeks and still not called him, even though he'd been a mess, it hadn't changed the fact that he wanted her.

Seeing her again in Jacksonville? Having her in his arms again? Yeah, that had confirmed it all. He was without a doubt in love with her. Really and truly head-over-ass in love for the first time in his life.
That
was what had gotten into him.

Oh, look at that, the ridiculous grin on his face was only getting bigger.

“Well, that's a smile if I've ever seen one.”

And just that fast, his smile was gone. Every single time Liam heard that voice, his entire body tensed. Actually it was more like a cringe. He took a second to brace himself before he looked up to find Kiki Jean Carlow.

He understood why the woman was in Los Angeles; she owned a home here and spent the summer months in the city. What he didn't understand was why she was in his room.

She was leaning against the door frame that led to the bathroom, one of her arms stretched above her blond head. The move pulled up the bottom of the low-cut shirt she was wearing. She somehow managed to expose all of her tanned-toned stomach—complete with twinkling diamond belly button ring—as well as her chest.

The move did absolutely nothing for him.
She
did absolutely nothing for him.

“What are you doing in here, Kiki?”

“I thought we could take advantage of your downtime. Don't you have an hour before you need to be onstage again?”

“Yeah, that won't be happening. You need to go.” He turned away from her, walking to the small closet in the corner and grabbing a clean shirt. But before he could pull it over his head, hands were running across his bare chest, skimming down his abs to the top of his jeans.

He moved fast, snatching her hands away from his body and turning around. “What are you doing?” He let go of her and stepped away.

“You should really stop denying the attraction between us, Liam, and just give into it already.” She looked up at him, pouting her lips and batting her eyes. “Besides the fact that we'd have a lot of fun, it would be
fantastic
publicity. And as we're going to be working together, you should really start playing nice.”

“Excuse me?”

“I'm going to be in your new video. Or didn't you know?”

Liam's mind reeled. The next video he was making was for “Forever.” Over his dead body would Kiki be in the video for the song that was about Harper.

“I don't think so.”

“You don't believe me? Just call and ask your manager. He was the one who talked to my agent.”

“I don't care what he has to say. You aren't going to be in it. And you need to get out of my room.” He moved farther away from her and headed for the door. He opened it and pointed to the hallway where more than a few backstage people passed by. “Now.”

“Okay, Liam.” She smiled as she walked to the door. “But it's just a matter of time before we get together.” She reached up, running her fingers across his still bare chest as she passed by him.

It took everything in him not to slam the door behind her. The second it was shut and locked he had his phone out, pulling up his manager's number to get this sorted out.

Because there was no way in hell.

*  *  *

Harper had seen her mother a number of times since telling her the baby news. The first handful of encounters hadn't been exactly pleasant. They always involved someone dissolving into tears—Delilah—or someone shouting—Delilah again.

But after everything that had happened in Jacksonville, Harper had resolved that she was very much done crying about this.

She had her father's full support, she had her friends by her side—all of whom now knew the full scope of what was going on, and she had Liam. Sure she and the father of her child were still in the process of figuring things out, and for now, that was enough.

And though her mother wasn't in any way, shape, or form as accepting of the situation as her father, she was still more than happy to make as many demands of the situation as possible.

The one that Harper was currently giving in to? Liam was flying into Tallahassee in two hours. And their first stop after he landed? Her parents' house for dinner.

Yeah, Harper was picking her battles, and Delilah's insistence that she meet the father of her future grandchild didn't seem like a smart one to fight.

And besides, at the end of the day, she really wanted to fix things. There was no point fighting about it anymore. What was done was done. There was no changing this pregnancy. Only moving forward.

Their relationship had never been the easiest, and differences or not—because there were
a lot
of differences—this was her mother.

And as it had been made very clear to Harper, there was no starting over, only catching up. So Delilah was just going to need to catch up, and Harper would wait until she did. Again, this was her mother after all.

Before Harper went to pick Liam up at the airport, she stopped by her parents' house to drop off Luna and the fresh-baked apple pie she'd picked up from Café Lula.

“Paul?” Delilah called out. “You're home early.”

Harper walked down the hallway, leaving Luna and Darby in the entryway while they did their customary sniff-over. “Dad's still at the office,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.

Delilah looked up from the kitchen island where she was peeling potatoes, her mouth going from relaxed to pursed and her nostrils flaring. Her eyes immediately dropped back down to the task at hand where she was now peeling so vigorously it was any wonder there would be any potatoes left at all.

“Hello,” she said as the
tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt
filled the kitchen.

“Luna is running around with Darby and I brought the pie.” Harper held the box in the air.

Tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt.

“You can just set it there.” Delilah nodded to the counter before she dropped the potato into a pot next to her and grabbed another one before she started up again.

Tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt.

Harper set it down in the spot indicated before she took a deep breath and walked over to the space right in front of her mother, leaning against the counter that separated them. “Can we get this out of the way before I go pick Liam up?”

“What out of the way?”

Tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt.

“The bright pink elephant in the room. Though it might be a blue elephant, I'm not sure of the color yet.”

The potato and the peeler both fell onto the cutting board and Delilah looked up in fury, wiping her hands on her apron. “Is this funny to you, Harper? Some sort of joke? You're having a child with a man who you barely know, a man your father and I have never met.”

“Yes, but the part where you and Dad have never met him will be rectified in…” Harper made a dramatic show of looking at her watch. “Oh, about three hours.”

“Is this still you trying to be funny? Because I'm not seeing the humor here.”

Harper wondered if her mother saw the humor anywhere. “I know, Mom. But I don't know what else you want me to do. You're going to meet him tonight. We are coming straight here. Not even stopping at my apartment beforehand.”

“So he's staying with you?” Her lips pursed even tighter, something that Harper didn't even think was possible.

“Yes. He will be staying with me while he's in town.”

“I'm not happy about that.”

“I know, Mom, but my time with him is already limited and I'm not going to waste any of it driving back and forth from wherever he would be staying.”

“Is he going to be sleeping on the couch?”

“Probably not.” God, was she really having this conversation with her mother? Besides the fact that it was more than somewhat painful/awkward, she really had no idea what was going to happen with Liam in the sexy times department.

Though if she were entirely honest with herself, she was hoping they wouldn't be doing all that much sleeping in her bed. Her wanting him definitely had not changed…and good Lord the last few weeks on the phone felt like the longest foreplay of her life.

“See. You have no regard for your actions.” Delilah shook her head as she picked up the potato and peeler again.

Tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt-tppt.

“It isn't like the full consequences of my actions haven't already been realized.” Harper waved her hand down in front of her belly as her mother looked up, dropping the now peeled potato into the pot.

“Oh, so you've already sinned so you might as well sin some more?” She grabbed another potato.

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