Pretend You're Mine: A Small Town Love Story (4 page)

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully, trying to shove the carnal thoughts out of her head.

“Morning. What’s all this?” He nodded towards the stove.

He looked guarded. Harper handed him an empty mug.

“Breakfast. It’s a thank you for letting me stay here.”

He took the mug and after a second’s hesitation made his way to the coffee.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye while he poured and she plated. What would it be like to have this view every morning?

***

“I
really appreciate this,” Harper said, sliding into Luke’s truck.

He waited until she fastened her seatbelt and then started the engine. “You already said that.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to think I’d gotten less grateful since breakfast.” She looked out the window as they backed down the driveway and pulled onto the street. The town rolled by, neat and tidy. Well-maintained houses hugged the main street and historic brick buildings housed businesses with cute names like Common Grounds and the Sparkle Shop.

Growing up, she had dreamed of a town like this. A place to belong. They drove past the high school with its wide green lawn and football stadium. She wondered how different things would have been for her had life begun here.

“You’re quiet.” Luke observed, glancing at her.

“Just thinking. Did you play football? In high school, I mean.”

Luke stopped for a red light. “Yeah. And ran track.”

“Very athletic.” Harper commented.

“You?”

“No, I never played football.”

“Smart ass.” Luke said it mildly, and Harper caught a glimpse of dimple.

Harper smiled. “No other sports either.”

“Why, because your school didn’t have boxing?”

“Funny.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “It was mostly circumstances. I moved around a lot.”

“Skipping out on arrest warrants?”

“I’m starting to think you have a slightly skewed perception of me, Lucas.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Hey, you’re the one who picked me up at a bar.”

“I picked you up off the parking lot.”

“Details, details,” Harper waved her hand.

Luke turned into a small parking lot next to a barn-red office. Dunnigan & Associates.

“Damn it, Luke. I told her I would see my doctor when I could.”

“Suck it up, sweetheart. It’s the price of a ride to the city.”

Harper pouted. “I feel fine.”

“Bullshit. You can barely move. Now be a big girl and get out.”

She took her sweet time following him up the ramp.

“If you’re in that much pain I’d be happy to carry you in,” he threatened.

Harper quickened her pace and slunk in the door behind him.

“They’re not even open yet,” she hissed at his back.

“Doc opened early just for your pretty little ribs.”

Dr. Dunnigan hustled into the empty waiting room clutching a tall coffee. “Right on time, Luke. Ouch,” she said looking at Harper’s face. “How ya feeling today?”

“Just great,” she said. “In fact, I think we’re wasting your time —”

Luke reached out and poked her right on the bruised butt cheek. Harper yelped. He either had spectacular bruise radar or had caught a glimpse of her ass when she had escaped bed this morning.

“Yeah, I think we still need to do an exam. Come on back. Luke, you might as well come, too. While Harper changes I’ll show you where I’m thinking of doing the addition. Bra off, underwear on,” she called over her shoulder to Harper.

Harper glumly pulled on the paper gown and tucked it under her for as much modesty as possible. She was not the biggest fan of doctor’s offices. Time was what provided the best healing. She was just a little banged up. This didn’t even make it into her top five injuries list. As far as she was concerned, everyone was overreacting.

A knock at the door was followed by Dr. Dunnigan’s frizzy curls. “Decent? Are you okay if Luke comes in?”

Harper shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

She stared at her bare feet while they entered. Luke sat in the visitor’s chair while Dr. Dunnigan wielded her penlight in Harper’s eyes.

“I still don’t have a concussion,” Harper sighed.

“Speaking from experience?” the doctor asked, switching eyes.

“One or two. You don’t forget what they feel like.”

“So no nausea, vomiting?”

“Nope. And no blurred vision either.”

Dunnigan laughed. “Well, in this case I’m going to agree with your self-diagnosis. I think you’re concussion clear. Which makes you very lucky or very skilled at taking a punch. Glenn has fists of concrete.”

Harper remained silent and avoided Luke’s gaze.

“Okay, let’s take a peek at those ribs.” She tugged the paper gown open to check Harper’s side. “Wow, that’s a mess. We’re definitely going to do an X-ray.”

Harper winced at the gentle probing around the bruising. Dr. Dunnigan pulled the gown open a little wider and Harper saw Luke’s jaw clench. Wordlessly, he shoved out of his chair to pace.

Ignoring him, Dr. Dunnigan moved on to Harper’s arm.

“Okay, Contusion Queen, let’s get a couple of pictures for the police report and a few X-rays and you can be on your way. I’m going to grab the camera.”

Harper sighed and gingerly flopped back on the table. The police report. A very loud part of her wanted to decline, but she thought of Gloria’s terrified face as that ham-fist had closed around the slim column of throat. She’d do it. Besides, maybe if she got called to come back and testify she could see Luke again.

Harper closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was on a beach somewhere wearing a floppy hat and bikini instead of crinkly paper.

“Harper.” Luke was standing next to her. He spoke softly, but his expression was hard. “Can I see?” He held the edge of the gown between his fingers.

She nodded. Why the hell not? This was as close to getting naked with him as she was going to get.

He draped the material over her, careful to keep her front covered.

“Baby.” He trailed his fingers over the side of her rib cage, around to just under her breast.

Harper felt her heart rate kick up several notches. An awake Luke touching her was even hotter than being groped by the asleep one.

He gently splayed his warm palm over the bruising, the tips of his fingers just brushing the curve of her breast.

Harper looked into his eyes and wondered how she could see both simmering anger and tenderness in them.

“All right,” Dr. Dunnigan said, pushing the door open. “Let’s get this show on the road. Luke, can you help Harper up? We’ll take these standing against the wall.

Luke’s hands closed around her arms and eased her into a sitting position. Harper gritted her teeth as hard as she could to avoid wincing.

She held his forearms to steady herself as she stepped down onto the hardwood floor. When she craned her neck back to look at him she saw a war of emotions tangle in his gaze. He brushed his knuckles gently across her cheek. “It won’t happen again.” The whispered promise was threaded with steel.

He stepped back and let the doctor take several shots of Harper’s ribs, arm, and face.

“Okay, that should be plenty. Let’s get a couple of X-rays down the hall,” Dunnigan said, putting the camera on the desk.

Luke held the back of Harper’s gown together for her as they made their way to the room. She tried to imagine a hundred different scenarios where his hand would be skimming the bare skin on her back that didn’t involve treating her like an elderly invalid.

Sometimes life just sucked.

What if she had rolled into town in a cute sundress and her damn wallet? She could have bought him a drink, instead of requiring saving and charity. If this wasn’t a wake up call about how it was time to start behaving like an adult, she didn’t know what was.

Dunnigan led them to a small, windowless room and had her lie down on the table. She adjusted the position of the camera over Harper’s ribs and draped a heavy lead cover over her.

“Just hold still right there and this will be over in a minute.” The doctor had Luke step back with her behind the protective curtain and Harper heard the whir of the camera.

Dr. Dunnigan rearranged her and took a few more shots of the ribs and one of her arm before letting her sit up again.

She brought a laptop over to Harper. “Okay. Let’s check these out.”

Luke joined them, leaning against the table. His arm rested against Harper’s.

Dunnigan zoomed in on an image. “Hmm.”

“What does ‘hmm’ mean?” Luke demanded.

“This spot right here,” she tapped the screen, “is a healed fracture. So either you have super human healing powers or you broke your ribs before.”

“I think I had a fracture there years ago,” Harper said, crossing her arms over her chest. It was embarrassing reliving her medical history with two virtual strangers.

Dr. Dunnigan looked at Harper over her reading glasses and waited. “Hmm.”

Harper ignored her. She could feel Luke’s gaze weigh heavily on her. She squinted at the screen. “No new fractures?” she asked cheerfully.

Dunnigan flipped through the series of images. “It looks like you’re in the clear. This time.”

“Told you,” Harper smirked at Luke.

“You’re awfully cocky for someone covered head to toe in bruises,” he reminded her.

“Same story with your arm,” Dr. Dunnigan said tapping the screen. “Old break. This one looks like it healed better than your rib.” She looked pointedly at Harper.

Harper shrugged and didn’t respond. Time had healed those physical hurts a long time ago, and with them the mental ones as well.

“Any new ones?”

“Nope,” the doctor swiveled in on her stool and put the laptop back on the counter. “A little swollen, a lot of bruising. But overall not nearly as bad as it could have been. I’ll write you a script for some pain meds to help you sleep and I’m telling you that rest is the best medicine.”

T
hey rode in silence after leaving Dr. Dunnigan’s. Each lost in thought. Harper was finally the one to break the silence.

“So do your tattoos mean anything?”

He kept his eyes on the road. “Why?”

“Do you not want to tell me what they mean?”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re answering questions with questions. It’s like a therapist trick.”

“Is it?”

She sighed loudly. “I feel like I’m playing Jeopardy when I talk to you.”

Luke grinned and said nothing.

Harper let it drop. She watched the road signs flash by, heading back to the city she had called home for the past two years. She had called a lot of places home, but it was for the lack of a better word. She had never really felt at home anywhere. Not since she was a little kid, in a postage stamp-sized house with a mom and a dad who now were more ghosts than memories.

“So what’s your plan once you get your stuff?”

Harper pursed her lips and sighed. “Gas up my car and head to Hannah’s.”

“You’re putting a lot of hope on a friend’s generosity.”

She sensed judgment in his tone. “It’s only temporary. I already checked out some jobs and apartments on Craigslist. I’ll be off of her couch in no time.”

“What kind of jobs?”

“There’s a couple of waitress/manager openings, an inventory clerk position, and, worst case scenario, one of those people who sit on stools in the middle of the mall and try to sell you a new bathtub.”

“Dream job?”

“Any job that pays the bills is a dream job these days.”

He changed the subject. “So do you want to talk about why you ran out of your place with nothing yesterday?”

“Not particularly,” Harper said, looking out the window. She sighed. “Just a mistake on my part. Poor judgment followed by a nasty surprise when I came home early.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Ex, as of yesterday.”

“Cheating?”

“A bike messenger girl. She had great legs from what I could see.”

“My God, Harper, you’re a mess.”

She puffed out a breath. “It would appear so.”

An hour later, Luke pulled up in front of the beige townhouse that Harper pointed out. “Do you want me to come in with you? I don’t want you moving anything heavy.”

“No, he should be at work. And I don’t have much to pack. It won’t take me long.” Harper opened the door and slid out.

“Just come out when you’re packed and I’ll carry the stuff to the truck.”

She hurried up the walk to the front door and let herself in. The beige carpet and off-white walls had never screamed “home” to her. And they certainly didn’t make her feel homesick now.

It was time to go.

She grabbed her purse out of the hall closet, double-checking that her wallet and phone were there before hurrying and upstairs to the bedroom. The sheets were still in disarray and she could see two head indentations on the pillows. Messenger Girl must have spent the night. Or maybe he’d ordered pizza after he was finished with Messenger Girl.

She turned her back on the bed in disgust and grabbed her suitcase and duffel bag out of the closet. She emptied her dresser drawers into the bags and then moved to the closet. In less than ten minutes, she had both bags packed.

In the bathroom, she hastily applied some cover up to her eye and dumped her cosmetics into a Ziploc bag. She muscled her bags down the stairs one at a time to the front door.

Luke was waiting for her on the porch. “I told you I would carry everything.” He took the bags from her and hauled them down the front steps.

Harper rolled her eyes. “I can handle a suitcase.”

“How many more bags?” He called over his shoulder on his way down the walk.

“This is it for the clothes. I just want to do a walk-through and see if I’m missing anything important.”

“All of your clothes fit in two suitcases?” He stopped in his tracks and looked at her like she had just grown an arm out of her forehead and asked for a high five.

“I lost a lot in the fire and haven’t really had the chance to replace the bulk.”

“The fire?” Luke blinked rapidly.

“Yeah, six months ago. My apartment building in South Side burned down. One of my neighbors was making a grilled cheese on a hot plate next to her drapes. Woosh!” She jazz-handed the air.