West frowned. “Why would you say that? If you like her and she likes you, I don’t see how the two of you spending time together would be a problem.”
“It’s not that easy. We’re totally different.” Lane hesitated. “We want different things.”
“What do you want anyway, Lane? To come home to an empty house every night and make a boring meal for one before you recline in your chair with a beer in your hand watching shitty reality TV? That sounds fucking awful if you ask me.” West shook his head.
“Well, you should know, considering that’s probably what you do every night when you’re not working. Am I right?” The look Lane sent him was pointed.
Damn it, yeah he was. Though he wasn’t a huge fan of reality TV. “Okay, you got me. But I’m seriously starting to think I don’t want that life anymore.” It was too damn lonely, not that he would admit that to his coldhearted big brother.
After what happened last night, when he thought he lost Harper, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Lost sleep over her, tossing and turning all night once he finally slipped into bed. He’d been so damn tempted to call her first thing this morning but then thought it better to let her rest and recover.
Besides, what could he do? He was still stuck at the station. He felt fucking helpless.
Lane raised his brows. “Really? You better make sure you mean that before you go spouting off to Harper that you’re all in or whatever other bullshit you’re going to feed her. You don’t want to break her heart, do you?”
West was taken aback at Lane’s words. “I won’t break her heart.” Then he thought of what she’d said last night, how they were just having fun. Messing around. That it wasn’t anything serious, what they were doing. “She just got out of a relationship. I won’t be the heartbreaker, Roger already did that.”
“Actually, she dumped Roger. Though he agreed pretty readily that their relationship wasn’t working.” Well, well, well, look at his brother, the gossipmonger. Who knew Lane had it in him? “Don’t forget that. And she’s had a thing for you for years. Back when she was nothing but a kid with a harmless crush. Well, I’m guessing what she feels for you now is a lot more than that. I’d bet money that you could snap her heart clean in half if you said or did the wrong thing. Trust me on this, little brother.” Lane patted his shoulder. “Be careful with that girl. She’s delicate. And she’s totally into you.”
West had nothing to say to his brother’s speech. He only nodded as they walked over to the garage side by side. They spoke to Tate, and Lane ran through the grim details of what the fire investigation had turned up so far. Tate had plenty to say about it, most of his comments heavily peppered with expletives, but West remained silent. He was too distracted, mulling over what Lane had said about Harper.
Was she really too delicate? Did he have the power to break her heart? Ever since they started in on this . . . relationship, this seeing-each-other type thing, he’d felt like she was the dangerous one. How comfortable he felt with her, her easygoing personality. With her sweet smiles and soft sighs, those pretty, delicious lips and that luscious body. The way she’d murmured his name just before he entered her . . .
Yeah. She could strike pure terror in the most calloused of hearts, and his was one of the hardest. She made him want to feel. Worse, she made him want more. More time with Harper, more of those conversations they shared, those sweet smiles and soft sighs, her delicious lips and her luscious body. He liked the way she looked at him, like he was in on their private joke and they were the only ones who knew the punch line . . .
But the thing that terrified him the most? That they might not be on the same page after all. Did they want the same things? What the hell did he really want anyway? Was he thinking too fast, getting too ahead of himself?
Probably.
Being honest with Harper, laying everything out on the line, should be his next move. He wanted to be open. He wanted to tell her the truth, to tell her what he wanted. But that would be pretty damn tough, especially when he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted himself.
He knew one thing though. What had happened last night, the close call with Harper, how he’d thought at one point that he could possibly lose her . . . it had made him realize that she needed to know how he really felt about her. And he needed to tell her.
As soon as he possibly could.
HARPER ACHED EVERYWHERE. She hadn’t bothered going in to work at the diner, hadn’t bothered getting out of bed. Once she got home last night, her grandma had taken care of her, fed her chicken soup in bed after she’d taken a shower and washed off all the dirt and grime.
She’d slept in, then taken another hot shower to ease the tenderness in her sore muscles, careful not to get the bandage on her forehead wet. She’d fixed herself a bagel with cream cheese and then crawled back into bed when she discovered she could barely keep her eyes open. Played around on her phone for a little while, texted Wren and Delilah, checking in on them, before falling back asleep.
It wasn’t until her grandma came home in the early evening that she woke up again.
“Lazy bones,” her grandma chastised as she entered the bedroom and flicked on the overhead light. Harper blinked, threw her arm over her eyes to block the brightness. “Are you not well? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“I’m fine. Just tired,” Harper grumbled. “Turn off the light, please.”
“Hmm.” Grandma did as she asked then bustled into the room and pulled the blinds open instead, letting in the waning sunlight. “Tell me the truth, young lady. Is your head okay? Are you traumatized by what happened to you yesterday? Do you need counseling? I could arrange it, you know.”
Leave it to her grandma to be blunt. “No, I’m all right. Really. I’m just . . . ” She didn’t know what she was. Tired and achy, yes, that was legitimate. Scared of the unknown because she hadn’t heard from West all day . . . ?
There was that too.
Wren and Delilah, she was good with. They’d said their apologies and were back to normal. It wouldn’t be weird between them because they’d known each other far too long to let it get weird. But West?
They’d seen each other briefly before she left with the girls. He’d hugged her, kissed her cheek, and whispered that he’d contact her tomorrow. Well, tomorrow was almost gone with no word from West. She knew he was busy. He was working and hadn’t been off duty for days. The man was exhausted and most likely had more important things to do.
It still hurt though, that she hadn’t heard from him. She’d sent him a quick text but no reply so far. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Did she matter? Would she ever matter? Wasn’t she worth a two-word text? Even a one-word text would’ve sufficed. At least that would’ve shown that he was thinking about her.
But he couldn’t even manage that and it hurt. The man turned her into a thousand neuroses, all of them rising to the surface and making her an agitated, dysfunctional mess. When it came to Weston Gallagher, she cared too damn much.