Page 7 of Improper Proposal
Harper puts her spoon down. “It is,” she says, then covers her mouth as she yawns. “Oh my. Excuse me. It’s been an awfully long day.”
On that note, I stand. “A killer long day,” I agree. I look around the table. “I think I’ll call it a night. The time difference is messing with me.”
“Same,” Harper says.
“We need to get going, anyway,” Randy says as he pushes from the table.
Harper blinks. “You don’t live here?”
Randy shakes his head. “Nope, we just gather on Friday night for Claire’s chowder, and of course, tonight was extra special because of George’s surprise.”
Claire folds her hands. “Very special indeed.”
“You might as well all live here,” Annabella says. “You’re here more than home, anyway.”
“That’s because Claire is too good of a cook,” Bobby says.
Harper looks down, and I catch something on her face. Sadness? Longing? Disappointment? I’m not sure I can identify it, but it does make me wonder more about her, and her life back in the States.
“Okay, you get a good night’s sleep, child,” Claire says. “Tomorrow, if you’re up to it, maybe you could help me prepare my plants for the winter. I want to spend as much time as possible with you.”
“You…you do?” Harper asks.
“Of course. It’s not every day George brings a girl home.”
Harper stares for a moment too long, her lashes blinking rapidly, her expression confused, then gives a quick nod. “I’d love to help.”
Claire smiles, genuinely delighted. “Great. Let’s get your bags upstairs and get you settled in.”
“It’s all right,” I say. “I’m headed that way.” I stand and grab Harper’s suitcase. “Which room did you put her in?”
“The one beside yours.”
Fuck, talk about temptation, especially with the joint bathroom separating my bed from hers. All I’d have to do is slip through the adjoining doors and slide between her sheets.
Cut it out.
I gesture toward the doorway with a nod, and Harper stands. She takes her bowl to the sink, leans against it for a second, then says, “Thank you all for your hospitality. I really appreciate it.” She pauses for a moment, looks around the room, and forces a smile. “Take care.”
Claire’s head jerks back. “You sound as if you’re leaving us, Harper.”
She opens her mouth and then says, “I…uh…I’m just tired.” She smiles, but it’s clear to me that it’s forced. “I’m not thinking right.” Her gaze meets mine, and I get the distinct impression that she wanted to say something else.
Who are you really, Harper, and what are you up to?
“Ready?” She nods, and I follow her out of the kitchen, listening to all the whispers behind us. In less than an hour, Harper has found her way into the hearts of my family. I pray to fucking God she’s not some gold digger and no one gets hurt. That thought gives me pause. I need to be sure she’s not. But how can I prove it?
I can’t seem to take my eyes off her ass as she climbs the stairs. When she reaches the top she turns, and I’m slow to react. My gaze lifts from her curvy backside and slowly tracks up her body. When my eyes meet hers, her face is flushed again.
“Which room?” she asks.
“Second from end on the left.” I follow her down, and she stops outside her room.
“Thanks,” she says and reaches for her suitcase. “I’ve got it from here.”
She steps into her room, and her door clicks behind her. I stand there for a moment and get the distinct impression that she’s leaning against the door on the other side, waiting for me to walk away.
I turn, and as I walk to my room, I stretch out my stiff muscles. As much as I’d like to, I’m too tired to hit the indoor pool. I peel off my shirt, pace for a few minutes, then flop onto my bed. My lids slide shut, but when my mind races back to Harper, my cock thickens. Okay, enough of this shit. I need to either whack off or jump in a cold shower. I kick off my pants, my cock granite hard as I pad quietly to the bathroom. When I enter and find a naked Harper bent over the tub, her sweet bare ass in the air as she adjusts the temperature, a strangled noise crawls out of my throat.
