Fixed Up (14 page)

Only something niggled. And it seemed it started with a big fat ‘L'. For some unfathomable reason she wanted to see him. After their conversation the other day an idea had started to take hold and now it wouldn't go away.

Maybe she could fit Luke into her schedule, as long as it didn't clash with work. They could try spending time together in a neutral, non-work environment.

Crazy? Maybe. But maybe it wasn't. Other than one dinner and what she'd started to refer to in her head as the night of the crazed nakedness, they'd only been together in work-like situations. In the classroom. Sawing up her tree. Back in her classroom.

Maybe she should try something else. Of
her
choosing. On
her
terms. See how it panned out.

It was a tough call. Weekends were precious: the only chance she had to tackle the larger more time-consuming jobs around her house. Would Luke be worth giving that up for? Harper toyed with the cell phone in her hands. Her finger poised over the call button. There was a concert in the park tomorrow, which might be fun. A day in the sun would be good for her. And if things didn't work out she could fake sunstroke or pretend to get lost in the crowd. Limitless exit possibilities made the proposition more doable.

She pushed the button. Left a message. Swiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Rang back. ‘PS,' she said, ‘if it makes you feel safer, I'll leave my hammer at home.' Hung up again.

Satisfaction that she'd taken the initiative swept through her and suddenly the weekend didn't loom as much. Even if he couldn't make it, she'd done something positive.

The phone ringing in her hand startled her from her thoughts. Luke.

‘Hi,' she said

‘I got your messages. What time tomorrow?' Luke's voice sent a surprising surge of longing through her. She gulped, swallowing air that prevented her from answering for a second. ‘Harper?'

‘I'm here. About twelve would be good. That's when the first band starts. We could go from my place.'

‘Okay, I'll see you then. And Harper?'

‘Yes?'

‘It's a rock concert, so we'll both need to wear the pants.' And he hung up.

It was all on. She'd invited Luke on a date.

Or just a day out, she thought. Depending how you looked at it. Two people wearing pants and going to a concert in the park on a sunny summer day. She could do that. She could take the day off from sanding the floor and the sky wouldn't fall.

Said sky was clear and blue the next day when Luke's truck pulled into her driveway. She peered out the window and watched as he stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards the house. His confident swagger pulled her gaze to where his faded jeans hung on his slim hips. He wore a black T-shirt, which emphasised his arms and fitted snugly across his broad chest. She knew from recent experience that under that T-shirt were abs, if not actually of steel, at least of something pretty, jolly good. She knew this because she had a clear memory of her hands wandering along them. Slipping over skin. She'd liked it a lot and could possibly like it again.

Maybe.

She ran her fingers through her hair, which was in desperate need of a cut. It felt hot and heavy in her hand as she twisted the long curls on top of her head for a second to cool her neck, before releasing it all to tumble down her back. She wished she'd dressed differently, but there was no time to change now, as he stood, hand poised to knock on her front door.

A rush of heat swept over her as she opened up. Partially attributable to the midday summer temperature, the other part pure Luke. The prospect of a glorious day with a glorious man so much more appealing than battling alone with the floor sander.

‘Snap,' said Luke, grinning as his gaze swept over her faded jeans, black T-shirt and sneakers. ‘We'll blend in with the roadies.' They set off down the drive.

‘We'll take my truck,' said Luke. He looked up at the sky, which spread perfect and cloudless above them.

‘We'll never get a park.'

‘It's too far to walk and I have a VIP parking spot, if that helps. It's the only reason I drove my new truck today.'

‘You? A VIP? How?'

‘Friends with one of the bands. The Jetts.' He opened the car door and reached into the car for his sunglasses. ‘You got sunblock on? I always forget my ears.'

Harper laughed. ‘And I was standing here thinking you were The Man. I
love
the Jetts! They're my go-to music choice when I'm working at home. So cool.' She tried to suppress another burst of laughter. ‘But then you start talking about sunblock.'

Amusement flickered in Luke's face. ‘I'm also friends with the first aid guys at the venue. Half the casualties at these events are a result of too much sun and not enough water.'

‘Good to know, grandma.'

‘You do nothing for a guy's ego, you know that, don't you?'

‘The guys I've come across in the past are better off for it.'

‘For having their pride smashed underfoot? Seems a bit extreme, even for a woman like you.' He walked around the side of the truck to stand before her.

‘What do you mean, a woman like me?'

Luke reached out an arm to rest it on the truck, leaning towards her. He made a soft humming sound in his throat, as he chose his words. ‘I mean someone who perhaps doesn't know her own strength and has more of an effect on others than she thinks she does. A woman who draws people in but is then disappointed when they don't live up to her own high standards.' Luke tucked a wayward curl behind Harper's ear and leaned a little closer. ‘The problem with
us
, is that I
know
, on some weird twisty Harper's-world level, that you really like me—no matter how much you're trying to deny it to both of us. It's the only reason I'm here. If you really, really wanted to kick me for touch, you'd have done it by now.'

His thumb trailed down her cheek and along her jaw, a light brush that sent shivers of delight sparking through her system. Slowly dawdling across her bottom lip the caressing fingertip felt rough against her skin. She grabbed his hand, not sure whether her intention was to stop the wandering fingers or to hold them in place so she could freeze the moment. Savour the warmth of his skin, the slight callous on his palm, the scent of coconut sunscreen.

She was like a coconut. Luke had peeled away her outer fibrous husk and exposed the shell hidden beneath, which looked tough but was actually thin; feeble protection against someone undeterred by her defences. She breathed deeply, her eyelids fluttering as his face came closer, knowing he was about to kiss her. His gaze held hers fleetingly before his mouth descended in a crushing kiss. There was nothing gentle or gentlemanly about this kiss. He backed her against the truck, the length of his body pressing against hers as his hands moved to hold her head, angling her to deepen the kiss. The vehicle was hot beneath her back, as hard and unyielding as Luke. Trapped between a truck and a hard place, her last coherent thought was that there was nothing to do but kiss her way out of it.

And kiss she did, her lips meeting his with joyous abandon that washed all sensibility from her mind and wrung moans from her that could probably be heard from across the street. The man knew how to kiss. If he hadn't had her pressed upright against the truck she'd have slumped to the ground on shaking knees. His magic mouth trailed hot and wet down the sensitive cord of her neck and she threw back her head, flagrantly offering herself up for more.

The resultant tingles ricocheted through her, rocketing down, down, down to her nether regions, where a steady hum had started to build. Luke adjusted his position, pushing his denim-clad thigh between Harper's legs and she pressed herself against him, suddenly too hot, her jeans too tight. She sighed with frustrated pleasure against his mouth and allowed herself the tiniest wiggle against his thigh. Just one, before reluctantly giving him a shove.

He'd done it again. Reduced her to a sex-crazed beast, only seconds away from goodness-knows-what in the driveway. She was clammy and wanting and he was hard and waiting, his lips still trailing heat across her collarbone, his thigh still a persistent pressure between her legs.

‘The show,' Harper mumbled.

‘What show?' Luke's gaze swung briefly round before zeroing back on her. ‘Oh, you mean the one we're giving the neighbours?' His eyes were hooded as he gazed down at her, allowing her a moment to focus.

‘The show—I mean the concert. The one we haven't made it to because we're making out in the driveway.' Harper stared at Luke. His lips looked a little swollen, even as they lifted into the most adorable smirk, compelling her to lean forward on tip toes and kiss him again. ‘The Jetts—remember? Sunscreen?'

‘Oh yeah. That's right. Though maybe you shouldn't go out in the sun with such delicate skin,' said Luke, running his hands up her arms, then down her back until they rested under her bottom. Gently, he pulled her towards him and she placed her slender arms around his neck as he lifted her till they were eye to eye. Forehead to forehead. Together they took a deep, steadying breath.

‘I think I'll survive,' said Harper.

‘That goes without saying.' Luke pulled away and opened the door of the truck for Harper, who noticed for the first time the signwriting on the new vehicle.

‘Colton Construction?
You're
Colton Construction?' Her voice rose in pitch and she stepped back, staring at the truck.

Luke frowned. ‘Yeah. I told you I had a construction company. And my name's Colton …'

‘That's not a construction company, it's a friggin' conglomerate.'

‘Hardly. Though we do own a few holdings not directly related to the construction industry. What's the problem here?'

‘Nothing. No problem. I just hadn't—didn't click it was you, is all.' Harper stumbled over her words. She could hardly say ‘everyone will think I'm just using you to get a step up', could she now?

Out of the midday heat the temperature in the truck plummeted further as the air conditioner adjusted itself to a bare step up from icy. Luke could see Harper's mood had also taken a cold plunge. She'd turned away to stare out the window, not even attempting to make conversation.

He drove through the hot tar-baked streets of Auckland city, trying not to appear angry. But the truth was, he was pretty pissed off. How could Harper not have realised he owned Colton Construction? But there was a deeper question that gnawed at him: why hadn't she cared enough to bother to find out anything about him? Surely it was pretty basic stuff to know what someone did for a living, even if it wasn't
that
interesting a job to discuss.

‘What did you think I did for a living, then?'

‘I suppose I thought you were a small-time builder. You know, just a couple of hammer hands, an apprentice, that sort of thing. And I'd assumed it was a quiet time of year for you, hence why you were at your mother's beck and call, coming to my classes.'

‘A big contract I was working on got delayed and we're just waiting on a few things before restarting negotiations next week. And I've been at Mum's beck and call ever since my father died.' Luke's stomach did the familiar dive thing at the mention of his father.

‘When was that?'

‘I was twelve. There was an … accident. An accident at home. Dad fell off some scaffolding.' Luke's hands clenched the steering wheel for support. It wasn't that he never said the words out loud, just that he couldn't ever say them without the taste of bile in his mouth. And guilt. To him they tasted the same. ‘Dad hadn't expected to die and he hadn't set up his affairs very well.'
Massive understatement.
‘The money was tied up for years and everything was held in trust until I was twenty-one. I inherited everything. Mum found it hard to get by and I had to watch her struggle—'
knowing it was all my fault
.

‘I'm sorry about your dad. That must have been a terrible thing to go through.' She swallowed. ‘Particularly so young. It's probably why you're so protective of your mother and sisters now.'

Luke stared bleakly ahead.

‘I don't mean that as a criticism, just an observation. Psych 101 stuff, really,' said Harper, her raspy voice unusually soft.

‘Thanks, Sigmund Freud.' Luke forced his head to turn; made himself meet her curious gaze. ‘Looking after people is a responsibility I take seriously and always have. I'm a business owner with employees and the only male in a family of women.'

‘Yeah, but they're all grown up and responsible for themselves.'

‘Doesn't mean they don't need help.'

‘You can't help everybody all the time.'

‘Why not? Sometimes it's just being a sounding board, to make sure they've thought things through. I help with finances and provide muscle when needed.'

‘I saw that with the macrocarpa sleepers,' Harper said drily. ‘Those women thought you were Superman the way they loaded you up.'

‘Superman seems a bit glamorous. More of a pack mule. Anyway, that's what I do. Keep the businesses I inherited ticking over for the next generation and look after everyone.'

‘All achieved with a one hundred per cent perfect health and safety record …'

‘You can take the mickey, but that Kiwi ‘she'll be right' attitude can have disastrous consequences. Remember how we met? You were dangling upside down from a ladder, I recall. Flashing your knickers for the world to see and inches from cracking your skull on the concrete floor.'

‘That's the first time I've ever had a close call like that,' Harper protested.

‘One close call, one slip-up, one foot in the wrong place on a ladder. It's all it takes to kill yourself or someone else. Believe me. I saw my father after he fell.'

Harper swallowed again, her eyes widening, but she made no comment.