Fixed Up (12 page)

Waved.
Shit
.

Hoping she couldn't feel him sweating he leaned across and kissed her cheek. The scent of her—of them—permeated his senses and he lingered for a second, eyes closed, breathing her in before turning and stomping out of the bedroom.

As Luke drove off he told himself he'd done the right thing in walking away. He was way too pissed off to be in the same room as Harper, much less in the same bed. He'd only say something he'd regret.

His hand slammed against the steering wheel. He needed to go to the gym and pound on a punching bag. Drink a bottle of whiskey. Shoot a wild boar. Something to kill the frustration building like a storm inside him.

Not her fault. She's a tricky one. You knew that going in.

He'd been brought up by females, surrounded by them. He knew how tricky they could be. He knew what went on inside their heads. There was a bloody good reason all his mates came to him for advice. He could have his own reality show. Stuff bachelors and fantasy islands, his show would be
Relationship Rescue
.

He almost laughed as he brought the car round to pull into his garage. He'd always managed to solve others' relationship woes. It would be pretty ironic if the only person he had no advice for was himself.

***

Harper pulled the duvet tight around her, still staring at the empty doorway. She fiddled with the hammer pendant on her necklace, rolling it between her finger and thumb. Her stomach churned with sickening familiarity as she replayed yesterday in her mind.

Chopping wood. Dinner. Sex.

How had chopping wood turned into dinner and sex? Really good sex. Really scary sex. Luke had been so attentive, so—so
into
her. No one had ever been that into her before. And the way he'd looked at her. Like he had expectations of her.

Expectations she couldn't live up to.

She pressed her hands to her forehead. Too hot. Feverish, even. She reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and swallowed it in three long gulps.

She'd launched herself at him without thinking it through. She'd been so caught up in the moment, in the way he'd made her blood rush and her flesh tingle. Every inch of her body had ached for him, craved to feel his muscles rippling beneath her fingertips. In the sheer joy of him she hadn't thought about the consequences.

Like the morning after the night before.

Luke, of course, had been perfect. Harper sighed.
I'm the disaster, not him.
He'd been nothing but kind, interested and—she couldn't believe she was about to use this word—gentlemanly, from the moment she'd met him. Strong, confident perfection on toast.

Yup, Harper was definitely the mess. She'd thrown herself at him last night, in a complete contradiction of everything she'd told him. She thought back to their dinner together, which she hadn't paid for after all. Unless she considered sleeping with him the payment.

Harper's stomach squeezed, pushing bile upwards into her throat. Luke would never look at it that way. ‘You're not your mother,' he'd said. And on some visceral level she knew he was right, so why did it torment her? Luke was so giving, Harper so afraid to take. She fought him at every turn, pushing him away. Surely he wouldn't stick around once he realised just how difficult and closed off she was?

Years of coping with being unseen and rejected every time her mother got a new man meant Harper had learned not to rely on others. She preferred work relationships to personal ones. It was easier to keep her work colleagues at a distance.

But Luke refused to be kept at a distance and his intense interest in her and her own overwhelming response to him made her shake with a fear even stronger than the desire that burned its way through her defences.

Harper buried her discomfort and somehow got through the day with a professional smile on her face. Luke didn't show up to class with his mother, much to Harper's relief. Or at least that's what she told herself as she tidied up after the session. She needed to focus. There was work to be done.

A knock at the classroom door caught Harper's attention. She turned to see Annie peering round the door frame, a pinched expression on her pretty face. She rushed to let her little sister in. ‘What's wrong? Are you okay?'

‘Yes—only—' Annie looked down at the ground, biting her lip in what Harper recognised as unhappiness.

Not for the first time Harper thought how even anger couldn't detract from Annie's looks. If anything, she looked sexier when she was mad. ‘Go on,' said Harper. ‘Just tell me.'

‘He dumped me and then he took the car back because he said I hadn't paid enough.'

‘Who? The car guy? What an arsehole.' Harper took Annie's hand and led her to one of the workbenches. She perched beside her on a stool. ‘Surely he has no right to do that.' Doubt filtered through her. ‘Does he?'

‘I don't know. He gave me my vee-dub back, which was odd, because he'd said he'd sold it. I think someone else has been driving it. It had weird crap in the back.'

Harper shuddered. She didn't even want to ask what the weird crap might be.

‘He sounds like a scumbag and you're better off without him.' Harper rubbed her hand across her sister's back.

‘All men are scumbags,' said Annie with a sniff. ‘What's their problem? They always make promises and then they break them.'

‘They're not all bad.'

‘Name one who's not.'

Luke Colton. Definitely not scum.
Harper didn't want to mention his name to Annie though. She knew Annie would make a massive deal out of it. Harper kept silent and continued to pat Annie's shoulder the way she used to when Annie was little and her disasters weren't quite as disastrous.

After a while Annie stopped frowning, straightened up and attempted a smile. ‘At least I've still got a car. There's this other guy I know who asked me out. I might do a sneaky drive by past his place …'

For once, Harper managed to keep her opinions to herself. Annie's behaviour was a pattern learned from their mother. As she spoke to her sister, Harper's face was serious. ‘Why don't you head home and have a nice bath, then come over for dinner? You could catch up with this guy later in the week. We haven't spent much time together lately.'

‘I know. We're both always so busy. Thanks for the invitation but maybe we could make it another night?' Annie stood up and smiled her sweet smile. She leaned over to wrap her arms round Harper. A lump blocked Harper's throat and she pressed her lips tight to hold back tears.

‘What are we going to do with you?' she said with false brightness. ‘You're too popular.'

‘Thanks for being so understanding. I feel much better now.' Annie pulled away and with a much perkier smile moved towards the door. Her hand was on the doorknob when she turned. ‘I wish you weren't always alone,' she said and walked out of the classroom.

Harper remained sitting at the bench for a long time, a heaviness anchoring her to the stool. Annie never learned. She picked the wrong men every time and it always ended in a shamble of fights, repossessed cars, and bucket loads of tears—though not usually Annie's. Harper had no idea how these situations arose so often. She just knew it was because Annie was insecure and needy.

I'm not like that.

Yet just minutes before Annie walked through the door Harper had been a hot mess over her handling of Luke this morning. She might not be like Annie and her mother in the number of men she went through, but she suspected she hadn't made a very good impression on Luke when she'd shoved him out of bed this morning without so much as a smile.

What was wrong with her? Annie might churn through guys like there was no tomorrow, but at least she did it with affection in her heart and hopes for a happy ever after. She might love 'em and leave 'em, but at least she actually tried to love 'em first.

Harper couldn't say that about herself.

Her usual pattern was avoidance these days. Last night's interlude was completely out of character. Attacking Luke like a sex-crazed black widow was definitely out of the ordinary and although she hadn't actually killed and eaten Luke this morning, he probably felt like he'd been used and then spat out again.

Her stomach sank. This officially confirmed it. She had no relationship skills. And Harper had a horrible feeling she owed Luke some sort of apology.

Crap
.

Apologies, like relationships, weren't her thing. Firstly, they involved admitting to yourself you were wrong and secondly they involved admitting to somebody else you were wrong.

Avoidance and the failing-to-admit-you-were-wrong option seemed like a way better way to go.

But as luck would have it, just as she'd decided on this latter course of action, the proposed object of her avoidance stuck his head round the door. Her mind froze, her tongue paralysed as he stepped hesitantly into the room like a visitor from some far away parallel universe.

His eyes flicked from side to side, searching for something. She'd hoped he wouldn't come in today.

‘Your mum's gone already,' said Harper, relieved to find her words sounded like words and not gargling. ‘She's probably in the car park.' God, he looked good enough to eat today. His jeans hung low on his hips, his white T-shirt half tucked above a brown leather belt. The white of the T-shirt contrasted with his tanned arms and Harper experienced a funny urge to squeeze his biceps really, really hard to remind herself what he felt like.

She stood up as casually as she could manage, but he still towered over her. It wasn't just his height making her feel small. A tense silence choked the room as she fought for something to say.

For once he clearly had no intention of helping her out. His cool gaze drifted over her, his silence fuelling her awkwardness and the hot flush rocketing up her cheeks. He seemed to enjoy watching her burn in discomfort, which she resented. Big time. They stared each other down for what seemed like hours as the room got stuffier and the walls closed in. Her insides were an inferno, her chest a feverish cavity that threatened to collapse into ashes any second.

‘You really are rubbish at this, aren't you?' he said, with an exasperated sigh. She blinked. Luke continued. ‘The morning after wasn't your thing and it looks like the afternoon after isn't much better.'

‘I told you from day one I wasn't in the right headspace to have a relationship.' Harper stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘I'm all about work right now. I said I didn't have time for anything non-work related.'

‘I get that. But you still have to eat, take time out—hey, have sex, why not— relate to the people around you. Taking a break every now and then is good for you. All work and no play isn't a healthy balance.'

Harper's fists clenched at his words. ‘You don't understand. This is a vital time for my business and I can't allow myself any distractions. The day I met you was a big deal for me. I had an appointment to present a business proposal to Cliff King. He totally blew me off.' Her fingernails bit into her palms. ‘So this—' she gestured around the classroom, ‘—this is Plan B. When King's back from wherever the rich and famous go on holiday I'll make another appointment and try again. Only this time I'll do it with a better understanding of who he is. In the meantime, I need to work harder, get more clients and have more to show for myself.'

‘And I can help you with that if you'll let me. I know—'

‘No,' Harper interrupted him. ‘That's not how I operate. I need to do things my way.'
So why did she feel so unhappy with herself? And why were her hands shaking, just a little?

‘Okay. Do things your way. It doesn't mean we can't see each other. I still have to bring Mum to class.'

For some disquieting reason Harper's heart blipped at the thought of Luke up the back of the room. ‘Class, okay. But no more morning afters.'

Luke's eyes flashed with an emotion she didn't recognise, piercing her with alarming intensity. The look served as a reminder he'd seen her naked and that he'd touched every inch of her as she lay beneath him. She'd given him a part of her and he wasn't going to give it back. He wasn't going to forget. And neither was she.

Heat coiled low in her belly at the recollection of his skin on hers. Her mouth went dry. She could try to deny it but he had some sort of hold over her.

Whether she liked it or not.

Shelia and Joan were waiting beside Luke's truck in the car park, chattering like magpies.

‘We're starting our own projects tomorrow, Luke,' said Shelia. ‘Could we stop by King of the Castle and pick up the materials? We need two macrocarpa sleepers. And you'll need to take the truck to class tomorrow.'

‘Actually, I thought I'd spend the day at the office tomorrow, catching up on some paperwork. You can borrow my truck though.' He avoided his mother's eye as he shut the car door. A bit too hard. He jumped into the driver's seat. Shelia and Joan were looking at him, their eyebrows raised in comically similar expressions.

‘Are you all right?' Shelia asked at last.

‘Yup.' He looked in the rear-vision mirror then turned to look over his shoulder before backing out.

‘You've missed a few of Harper's classes lately.' Shelia gave Joan a knowing look, the meaning of which wasn't lost on Luke. ‘We thought you liked … the classes. We thought there was a Plan.'

‘The Plan hasn't entirely gone to plan, so I think it might be best if I don't hang around tomorrow looking like a pathetic loser. Believe it or not, a guy can only take so much ego hammering in a week.'

Shelia looked at him in alarm. ‘But darling, Joan and I need you tomorrow. We can't carry four heavy macrocarpa sleepers. Those things weigh a tonne. Please. Harper doesn't think you're a loser. On the contrary. She thinks you're a total hottie,' Shelia giggled, though it sounded suspiciously like a snigger. Joan joined in.