Finding Harmony (12 page)

He wouldn’t think about her hanging around all day. He’d
focus on getting on with the day and leaving the pillow talk for the night. Tonight.
Just as long as he got to wake up with her again tomorrow.

He threw on a golf shirt and a pair of shorts and when he
came back into the bedroom she was dressed. Sort of. That dress was as thin as
a scarf with the sunlight coming in the window behind her. Had she found her
panties? Even he didn’t remember where he’d left them. He closed his eyes for a
moment. He wouldn’t think about her sweet backside naked under that thin silk. No.
He wouldn’t.

“I’m ready,” she said.

He drove her back to her camp. She didn’t say anything,
just stared out the window beside her as they drove over the gravel road.

“What are you up to today?” he asked.

She ran her hands over the wrinkles on the front of her
dress. “I have to be at the Institute around noon.”

“I’m meeting the developers at The Clubhouse at one,” he
said. “Do you want to join us?”

She turned toward him, her brows raised. “Today?”

Damn. Just what did that jerk do to her? “Did you think
we’d spend the night together and I wouldn’t want to see you again?”

She clicked her tongue. “Is that so unusual?”

He stared straight ahead for a moment, thinking of the
one-night stands he’d had in the past. He couldn’t think of one instance when
he’d wanted to spend more time with any of those women, let alone another night
together. “No,” he admitted. “But last night was different.”

Her eyes narrowed as they ran over his face. “‘Different’
how?”

He kept his expression neutral. Of course she wouldn’t
leave it alone. Research was her thing. Gather as many facts as possible before
drawing any conclusions.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

She didn’t press him after that little bit of eloquence,
but he could tell she wanted to. It wasn’t that he expected a whole
conversation about where they were going and what all this meant. It was more
that she wanted to know but was holding herself back. Fine with him. He’d take
the coward’s way out and leave the conversation unspoken. He had no idea of the
answers to those questions anyway.

A woman like Harmony would expect a man to love her. To
tell her he’d stay. That’s probably what that jerk in college had told her. Why
else would she still feel that hurt?

Well, those words wouldn’t come from him today. He didn’t
know what he felt for her, but he wouldn’t say the words if he didn’t feel
them.

Harmony sat and waited for words she doubted would ever come
out of his mouth. There Adam and Rick were decidedly different. Adam was smooth
and seemed to know what she wanted to hear before he even formed the words. She
guessed Rick wasn’t really cut out of precisely the same cloth after all. That
was something, anyway. Well, facts and evidence, that was what she’d learned to
rely on after Adam. Not her heart, that was for sure.

“Lunch at one,” she said with a nod. “Sounds nice. I’ve never
eaten in The Clubhouse.”

He smiled. “It’s no Lac des Fontaine, but I think you’ll
like it.”

“I like The Boathouse, Rick.” She shrugged. “I’m easy.”

He grinned. “Not touching that one, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?
She
wouldn’t read anything into the endearment. He was just being smooth and
flirty.

He stopped at the end of the gravel road and put the SUV in
park before turning toward her. She wanted to invite him in, to ask him to take
a shower with her out in the woods. To lay him down on that old quilt and let
her have her way with him. But after their halted conversation? Not going to
happen. Not today.

“Thanks, again,” she said.

He grasped her arms and pulled her close, his touch gentle
and commanding at the same time. “I had a great time, Harmony. Dinner and after
dinner.”

He kissed her and it was more like a branding on her heart
than on her lips.    The next moment she escaped before she could say something
really stupid. She didn’t look back as she hurried into her tent-cabin.

Of course she heard the big engine race as he pulled away. She
wasn’t really listening for something else, hoping to hear his footsteps
following close behind her. Nope. Not at all.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered.

***

A few days after Thanksgiving, Rick showed up at Harmony’s
camp. She’d invited him to dinner with her parents for the holiday—organic
vegetables and free-range turkey, no doubt—but he’d politely turned her down. Lunch
at The Clubhouse two weeks ago, after that awkward conversation after their
night together, had been nice despite the touch of tension. Ever since then the
developers and everyone else at Cypress Corners acted like they were a couple.   He
wasn’t sure how he felt about that. That bawdy old lady who sat in the Village Center, the one with the big hats and knowing smiles, had asked him about  Harmony
as if they were in each other’s pockets.

Yeah, they went out. He smiled to himself. Yeah, they
stayed in. The impressions they were apparently making with the Cypress folks were bad enough. He didn’t want Harmony’s parents thinking that they were
more than casual. In his experience nothing could do that faster than a holiday
dinner. His lip curled. Now he was here asking her to do something he wouldn’t
do in her place.

She never questioned his plans, holidays or long-range, and
he made sure to never touch on the topic of what would happen after the rec
café was complete.   They hardly talked about the project at all, come to think
of it. It was half-finished now, and on target for completion by the end of the
year. That was just a few weeks away. Irritated as his thoughts threatened to
linger on the subject, he stepped out of the SUV.

 The late afternoon sun slanted through the tall trees
behind her cabin and sparkled on the lake beyond the dock. He breathed in the
pine scent and fresh air as he heard the water lapping against the pilings, the
tension that had begun to plague him dissipated.

She had a pretty place here. He’d yet to spend the night
though, listening to the things that chirped and splashed as he made love to her
again. Surely that wasn’t accidental. This was her place, and he really had no
business hanging around through the night. He wouldn’t press for that, either. Not
after that awkward morning at his place.

He rapped on her door. “Harmony?”

He could hear her moving around, soft sounds as she
straightened her home for his unexpected visit.

“Be right there!” she called.

Her footsteps must have been muffled by that thick rag rug
because she startled him when she opened the door.

He’d surprised her too, apparently. She was dressed in
low-riding pants with a hooded sweatshirt unzipped to show the tank top
underneath. She had a pencil tucked up in the hair twisted at the top of her
head, and she was barefoot.

“Were you working?” he asked.

She blew a loose curl out of her face. “Yes. But it’s nothing
that can’t wait. What’s up?”

Leaning a shoulder on the door, she appeared relaxed. But
the uncertainty and tension hummed between them. It had since the morning she’d
woken up in his bed.

He shoved his own preoccupation aside and forged ahead. “I
need you.”

She ran her eyes over him and he could guess what she
interpreted from that statement. He would have taken her up on the offer if he
thought she was as carefree about it as she appeared. But he needed her for something
else today.

“Bill’s here,” he said.

She straightened, her eyes going round. “Your father? Oh,
to check on the rec café.”

“To check on me,” he said too fast. “He brought Tiffany
with him. My stepmother.”

Harmony’s brow furrowed but he wouldn’t give her a chance
to think of some excuse. “Come to dinner with us. Please.”

“Oh, Rick.” She stepped back and turned as he followed her
into the cabin. “I don’t know. The developers are fine but your father? Your
mother?”

“Stepmother.” He took her hand and turned her toward him. “I
need you there, Harmony.”

Her gaze searched his face for a long moment. God, he saw
that tenderness in her eyes he’d seen off and on since that morning two weeks
ago. He let himself bask in it for a long moment before setting it aside with a
wink. “I can use the distraction.”

That tenderness cleared, replaced by a conspiratorial
expression. So she’d play it his way, apparently.

“Sure.” She glanced down at herself. “Let me get dressed. We’re
not going to Orlando again, are we?”

“No. The Clubhouse.” He stepped out held the door open. “Thanks,
Harmony.  I’ll wait for you out here.” He let the door close behind him.

***

Harmony dressed quickly. The Clubhouse. Casual elegance or
some stuff like that. The little silk dress? No. A long gauzy skirt and
matching top, both in sunny yellow. She’d look bright and cheery even if she
was a bundle of nerves inside.

 She was going to meet his father? His stepmother? Tiffany.
Rick’s voice had sounded bitter when he’d said her name. Something was up for sure.
Rick seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else but with his parents. Well, he
wouldn’t explain why. He’d been Mr. Brush-off since they’d spent the night
together. Keeping things casual, staying focused on his work and sleeping with
her when the mood struck. But there were times, when he was deep inside her and
gazing into her eyes, that she felt the connection he would probably deny. Her
heart knew it, too.

Well, she wouldn’t be the one to press him. She knew what
he needed today and she’d be there for him. A diversion, a distraction. A
buffer. She didn’t know how valuable she’d be tonight but she’d sure try.

After putting on a little make-up and running the brush
through her hair, she joined him in the SUV. She could sense the tension in him
as he tapped his knee. Setting aside the implications it might infer—would he
think she wanted more from their relationship?—she placed her hand over his. He
eased instantly beneath her touch, and gave a jerky nod. He started the car and
turned it around, heading toward the village.

She spotted the reason for his unease as soon as they
pulled up in front of The Clubhouse. The two reasons, actually. Bill Chapman
stood at the top step, one hand in his pocket as he sucked on a cigarette. Harmony
said a silent prayer of thanks that the state of Florida didn’t allow smoking
in any of its restaurants or bars. The woman standing beside Bill seemed as
harsh as the smoke coming out of her husband’s mouth. Brassy blond hair framed a
face that nature didn’t make.  Who has a nose like that, curved pertly at the
end and tiny compared to her collagen-injected lips? Her body probably wasn’t
as God made it, either.

She swallowed the unfamiliar, unwarranted cattiness. This
was Bill’s wife, not Rick’s girlfriend, she was meeting. Tiffany spied them and
lifted a tanned arm and waved. About a dozen gold bracelets caught the light
from the streetlamp.

“God, here we go,” she heard Rick say under his breath. He
faced her. “Thank you for this.”

He seemed… smaller as he got out of the SUV and walked
around to her side. He took her elbow as she climbed down and they joined his
parents on the steps.

“Chapman!” Bill called. He threw his cigarette butt on the
walk and shook Rick’s hand. “Nice to see you. Who’s this?”

He faced Harmony and she quickly looked him over. He looked
a lot like Rick, only with hard eyes and a chill his son never showed. Well,
hardly ever showed.  Bill wore pleated tan slacks and a blue blazer over a
white oxford shirt. The blazer had an emblem of a sailboat surrounded by fancy
gold stitching. Some yacht club, she guessed. Small wonder Rick hadn’t thought
much of The Boathouse.

“Harmony Brooks,” she said, extending her hand.

Bill took it and pulled slightly before dropping it. “Wait.
The tree-hugger?” He turned to Rick. “You didn’t tell me she was a knock-out.”

Rick didn’t say anything to that. Harmony faced his
stepmother, who narrowed brown eyes on her. Curiosity mixed with blatant animosity
struck her from beneath thickly-coated lashes.

“Harmony,” she said. She pursed her peach-tinted lips and grabbed
on to Rick’s arm, leaning against him. “Rick didn’t say he was dating anyone
here.”

Rick stepped back from Tiffany and urged Harmony into the
restaurant. “Let’s go inside.”

Harmony wouldn’t be hurt by his brusqueness. She knew it
was due to these people and had nothing to do with their issues. Tonight, at
least.

They followed the hostess to a table set in the middle of
the restaurant. She didn’t quite know why until the developers and other bigwigs
at Cypress Corners began to stop by his table to say “hello.”

“Great to see you here, Bill,” one man said. “Your son here
has done a terrific job pushing the end of the contract through.”

Bill shrugged and sipped at his glass of scotch. “Rick’s
learning the ropes. He’s proving himself.”

She watched Rick, her heart aching. She’d never seen a
family dynamic like this one. Tiffany devoured her stepson with her eyes—and
her sharp fingernails as she used every excuse to touch his arm, his shoulder and
probably his thigh, since she’d maneuvered her chair very close to his. Bill
spoke only of investors and contracts. Rick didn’t say much, just ate and kept
checking his watch as he attempted to shake off Tiffany’s hand.

The servers bent over backwards to serve Bill Chapman and
party, and more courses than Harmony had anticipated covered their table. She
picked at her food and waited for the evening to end.

“So what do you do, Harmony?” Tiffany asked after Rick’s
most recent rebuff of her touch. “Bill said you’re the girl from the
Institute?”

She set aside her napkin and nodded. “I’m a plant
conservationist, Mrs. Chapman. I make sure nothing infringes on the native
plants here on property.”

“Plant conservation?” Tiffany tossed back her hair. “Sounds
dull.”

Rick cursed softly. “Harmony’s work was integral to letting
us build the rec café, Tiffany.”

“Yeah. The weed.” Bill waved his empty scotch glass at a
passing waiter who whisked it out of his hand and replaced it with a full glass.
“Rick told me about it when he first got here.”

She wouldn’t argue the point, not with these people. The
thunder showing in Rick’s eyes made her feel vindicated even though nothing
either of them could say would convince Bill and Tiffany of her importance. She
didn’t care about their opinion. Just look how they treated Rick!

“How are Jake and Cassie?”

Bill snorted. “Your brother is off in… Tahiti, I think. Some
extreme games, or something. Cassie?” He waved a hand. “According to the latest
reports she’s traipsing across Europe with some fortune-hunter.”

“Reports?” Rick asked. “You’re having her followed?”

Bill leveled a cold look at his son. “Better I hear of it
than the tabloids. Your sister is out of control.”

Harmony saw the pain flicker over Rick’s face at the man’s
dismissal of both his siblings. She wanted to touch his hand as she’d done in
the SUV, but once more Tiffany’s bejeweled hand was there. And once more Rick
pulled away.

At long last the evening was over and they all stepped out
of the restaurant.

“I’ll call you before we head back to Boston, Chapman,” Bill
said. “Tiffany wants to drive out to the beach tomorrow.”

“Ooh, why don’t you come with us, Rick?” Tiffany said. Again
she ran her eyes over Harmony. “You can bring your… friend.”