Читать книгу One Unforgettable Kiss - A.C. Arthur - Страница 13

Chapter 4

He was hard.

Strong...she meant.

And hard.

And the memory of him stuck in her mind like rocks in cement.

It had been about seven hours since Garrek Taylor had saved her life—from the idiot tractor-trailer driver who had been illegally speeding down a residential street. Almost twenty-four hours since he’d saved her from the Magnolia Guild and further humiliation in front of a small portion of the town’s population. And a little less than that since he’d invaded her dreams with his sexy voice and that knowing glare.

Truth be told, Harper wasn’t overly worried about what the townspeople thought about her. They’d been thinking the same thing all her life—that Harper Lane Presley was an incorrigible tomboy who’d rather swallow flies than wear a dress and makeup. They were partially right. Harper did not like makeup. She’d tried it once and her stubborn freckles had poked right through, like tenacious weeds growing in a garden year after year. And dresses did not work well with climbing trees or playing softball and sliding into home to score the winning run, which was the ultimate act to show off in front of her cousins.

But she was not incorrigible. In fact, when Harper had left Temptation to attend Virginia Varsity University, where she’d studied building construction, she’d actually made a concerted effort to try to act like the other girls. That hadn’t ended well, and Harper decided then that she simply was who she was, and whoever had a problem with that just didn’t matter.

Garrek Taylor didn’t seem to have a problem with her. He’d shown that with his twenty-five-hundred-dollar bid. Did that make him an ass? Bidding on a woman like she was a piece of property instead of doing the sociable thing and asking for a date like an ordinary man? Or did that mean he’d liked what he’d seen as she stood on that stage in one of the few skirts she owned, praying for a way to escape? She didn’t know, and she shouldn’t even be worrying about it. She couldn’t go on a date with Garrek Taylor.

She did, however, if she were totally truthful with herself, want to feel his hard body against hers once more. Sure, he had done it to save her life, but Harper had immediately realized that there were worse scenarios than having a man who looked—and oh, yes, smelled—like Garrek lying on top of her. His cologne was a bold musk fragrance that screamed strength and confidence even louder than his stance and actions. She’d picked up his scent last night as he’d walked beside her. Had dreamed about it last night and almost swooned over it when he’d been standing right behind her on the porch this morning. By the time he was on top of her, she’d been ready to rip his clothes off and press them to her nose. Damn, she was pitiful.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. We’ve got company.”

Harper startled at the sound of her father’s voice. She’d been standing at the railing on the back porch of her family farm, staring out at the miles of grass that led down to the barn.

“Oh, Daddy, I’m not in the mood for guests—” Her words were lost as Harper moved away from the railing and turned to see the company her father was referring to.

“Garrek here says you two met last night. Then Craig and Marlon told me about the incident at the Taylor house this afternoon. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Arnold Presley was a retired marine colonel. He was six feet three inches tall and almost as wide as a doorway. He kept his bulky frame in good physical condition by doing all the lifting and hauling around the farm. And according to him, he exercised his brain by watching an even mix of CNN and Sanford and Son reruns. His gray hair was cut close, while his keen sense for people ran rampant all day long.

“Last night was ridiculous and not worth talking about. Except that Mr., ah... Garrek Taylor...he um, made a great contribution to the Veterans Fund. So that was the highlight,” she said, managing to keep her gaze from falling on Garrek, who stood just behind her father.

He’d changed clothes. Earlier he’d worn jeans and a T-shirt. Tonight, he had on blue slacks and a gray button-down shirt. From laid-back to business casual, he looked like a model. Everything fit just the right way, and he appeared perfect in everything. It would have been sickening—if it wasn’t so alluring.

“Well, I would expect nothing less of a military man,” Arnold continued.

He was smiling—which her father rarely did—when he reached over to slap his brawny hand on Garrek’s shoulder. If that action caused Garrek any pain or discomfort, he was an expert at not showing his emotions, because he only smiled at Arnold and then returned his inquisitive gaze to her.

“You’re in the service?” she asked.

“Navy,” he replied.

“He’s a navy pilot!” Arnold added. “I’ll excuse him for choosing the navy over the FRS.”

Arnold thought everybody who even considered a career in the military should select the marines. How many debates had she witnessed between her father and her grandfather about which was better, the marines or the army? Too many to count.

“I didn’t know that,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Well, I’m sure my father will keep you entertained with talk about the war or the service, or both. I’ve got a few things to check, so I’ll just get out of your way.”

She made it all the way into the living room before she was stopped.

“Never seen you run from anybody before.”

“What?” she asked and spun around to see her grandfather sitting in his favorite recliner.

Harper hated that chair. The dingy brown floral pattern was straight out of the ’60s, and it creaked every time Pops leaned back to recline in it. But two Christmases ago when she’d bought him a new motorized leather recliner, he’d thanked her kindly but flat out refused to sit in it, declaring there was nothing wrong with his old one. The new recliner made its way into her father’s bedroom, and Harper wisely never broached the subject of Pops’s favorite seat in the house again.

“Oh, Pops, you scared me,” she replied.

“Only reason somebody would be frightened in their own house is if they were doing something they shouldn’t be doing,” he quipped.

He was sitting back in that chair, legs crossed at the ankles and pouring tobacco into his pipe, while his wire-framed glasses slipped slightly down his nose.

“Who’s frightened? I’m heading to the barn to make sure Craig stacked all the boxes of tile along the side like I asked him to. Aunt Laura called him and Marlon home right after we finished up today, so he said he’d bring the tile by after the special dinner she had planned.”

Pops nodded and took the first puff of his pipe. He’d been lighting it while she talked. That’s how she’d known she’d been rambling, because he hadn’t looked up once.

“Laura celebrates everything. I think Giff said it was the anniversary of the day they moved into that house. That’s why she was having a big ol’ dinner. Your father told Giff we already had our dinner on the stove when he called. That way we wouldn’t have to go.”

Harper frowned. “We had smoked sausage and fried potatoes for dinner tonight, and Daddy didn’t start cooking that until after I was home and showered.”

“Yep,” Pops said and gave his wide, toothy smile. “You’re right about that.”

Harper smiled in return, because her grandfather’s bug eyes, those glasses and his grin always made her feel happy inside.

“Right. So I’m just going to go out and get a count. I might load them in my truck so I’ll be ready to leave early tomorrow.”

“Sure. Sure. Take all the time you need,” Pops said. “I’m sure that nice navy fella will be gone by the time you’re done.”

Harper knew exactly what he was trying to say. But he was wrong anyway—she wasn’t running from Garrek Taylor. There was no reason to run from a man who meant nothing to her, but who still managed to set every inch of her traitorous body on fire with one gaze.

“He didn’t come to see me, Pops. So it’s fine if I leave,” she said and moved closer to the door.

“Guess you’re right. He came all the way out here to meet two old duds like me and your dad.”

Harper kept going, muttering once more, “He didn’t come to see me,” before opening and closing the front door behind her.

* * *

Garrek had driven out to the Presley farm to make sure that Harper was all right. After the near accident this morning, he’d just wanted to make sure he hadn’t hurt her with his impromptu save-the-day act. She was a lot thinner than his two hundred and thirty pounds.

He also wanted to get his mind off the many papers he’d read while he enjoyed the room service meal earlier this evening. A stout woman with tightly curled, frosted gray hair had welcomed him back when he arrived at the B&B after leaving Gray’s house. She’d introduced herself as Mrs. Louisa Reed, but insisted Garrek call her Nana Lou and apologized profusely for any bad things he might have heard about her son, Harry—who was now in jail—and Gray’s wife. Nana Lou felt the need to cater to him personally, even though there was another man at the front desk when he’d come in. His name was Otis, and the old herringbone cap he wore had definitely seen better days.

Garrek had found the scene to be homely and welcoming, a stark contrast from life on the base, or flying out at a moment’s notice for secret flight exercises. It made him think once more about the life he’d chosen, the one he’d thought he wanted more than anything else.

A few hours later, Nana Lou had sent up a large bowl of beef stew with two thick chunks of warm homemade bread and a pitcher of lemonade. It was a humid June day, and yet the hearty stew and bread had hit the spot as an early dinner in the quaint air-conditioned room. While he enjoyed the stew, Garrek read through everything in the two envelopes that Gray had sent him months ago. After the meal, he sat in the high-backed chair near the window and thought about everything that had been in those envelopes. When he finally felt a bit overwhelmed with it all, the idea to check on Harper hit him. And Otis had been the one to provide her address when Garrek inquired.

He’d hoped the ride would clear his mind, but it only gave him more time to contemplate what was happening in his life. First: a house.

In addition to the three million dollars, Theodor Taylor had also left something called the Adberry house to his second son. After receiving Gray’s packages six months ago, Garrek had decided to deal with the money first. Once the new accounts were open, he’d also put copies of the paperwork from all the accounts, and the letter from Gray detailing how he’d found the money their father had left to each of them, in a safe-deposit box. Garrek had never been stationed out of the country so there was no reason for him to have an account in Grand Cayman. Sure, it was an inheritance and having an offshore account didn’t necessarily equate to wrongdoing, but after being linked to a family with one national scandal in his lifetime Garrek had no desire to tempt fate. He’d never had a blemish on his record with the military and he didn’t want to take the chance of his commanding officers finding out and getting the wrong idea.

That had been easy enough to deal with. As for this house, he wasn’t quite sure about that one yet, especially since he’d been on the fence about Gray selling their father’s other properties in Temptation.

So by the time Garrek had arrived at the farm, he was more than ready to see Harper’s pretty face again. There was something about her that he had yet to figure out that made him want—no, need—to see her. It was the oddest thing. He had come to Temptation to get away from one woman, only to have another one plague his thoughts. And this one, unlike the woman he’d left in Washington, didn’t want his attention at all.

Linus and Arnold Presley were nice enough men who were more than eager to talk about their respective military careers. But since Garrek wasn’t sure he was going to have a military career in the upcoming weeks, he didn’t welcome the topic of conversation. The only other thing that captivated the men’s attention was when he said, “I came to make sure Harper was all right.”

They’d each perked up at that comment, which had surprised Garrek.

“Oh, yeah, she seemed fine at dinner,” Arnold said. “My nephew Marlon called to tell us about the incident.”

“And I immediately called Sherriff Duncan and told him to get his butt in gear. Tractor-trailers aren’t supposed to be on residential streets. Highways and main thoroughfares is what the town ordinance says,” Linus added.

“Well, I’m just glad it turned out the way it did,” Garrek replied. “She seems to have vanished, though, before I could really talk to her.”

“Oh, no, I know just where you can find her,” Linus announced as he puffed on his pipe.

That’s how Garrek ended up walking about fifteen feet from the main house and around the side of a huge barn. It was already getting dark, but he moved about, ignoring the sound of whichever animals were kept on this farm. He found her when he rounded the last corner that would have taken him into a complete circle. She was loading the back of a pickup truck with heavy-looking boxes, bending over so that he once again had an unfettered view of her shapely bottom.

“Here, let me do that,” he said, coming up behind her and attempting to take the box she’d just lifted.

“What? Oh, no. I have it.” She held on to the box.

He pulled on his end. “I said I’ll do it for you. These are heavy.”

She huffed and gave another tug. “I can handle it. It’s my job, and I don’t need any help.”

Garrek did not move, but held her irritated gaze. “There’s no need for us to argue. I’m just trying to be nice.”

“I don’t need you to be nice to me. I’m perfectly capable of moving out of the way when a truck speeds toward me. And I’ve been lifting heavy boxes on construction sites since I was ten years old,” she said and tugged on the box once more. “And furthermore, I’m also perfectly capable of getting my own date! Thank you very much!”

At those last words, Garrek let go of the box. Apparently she wasn’t holding on as tightly as he’d thought, because his actions forced her back a step until she hit the edge of the open truck bed. The box slipped from her hands and fell to the ground with a thump.

“What did you just say?” he asked.

She was slightly winded, her chest moving up and down quickly, strands of hair that had been pulled back when he approached now touching the sides of her face.

“I...I, um, I said I don’t need your help with the boxes,” she told him.

Garrek took a step closer to her. He should have been moving in the other direction. In fact, he shouldn’t have come out here in the first place. It was apparent that she was just fine. She’d looked more than fine when she’d walked away from him earlier today. She’d looked stubborn, independent and beautiful.

“No, the other thing you said,” he stated, his voice going lower.

She licked her lips, and Garrek bit back a moan.

“I already thanked you for saving my life,” she said. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here. Isn’t that like stalking?”

He was closer now, so close that she tried to back up but ended up sitting on the edge of the truck bed. He moved quickly then, because if he gave himself one moment to think about what he was doing, he would turn and run as far as he could get from this farm. This was crazy and ridiculous. It was reckless and stupid in light of all he’d been through in the past few months. At the same time, Garrek knew that nothing short of lightning striking at that truck was going to stop what was about to happen.

“You said something else,” he whispered. “About getting a date for yourself.”

“I can,” she insisted and tried to scoot back farther onto the truck.

Boxes already stacked in the truck bed hindered her progress, and Garrek pushed her knees apart to stand between them. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled so that she slid snugly up against him. Her hands slapped against his chest and she pushed at him. It was a light, unconvincing push; otherwise he would have been forced to back away.

“I didn’t need you to pay to go out with me,” she said.

“I didn’t,” he replied. “At least I didn’t know that was what was going on at the time.”