If You Only Knew (Harper Falls Book 3) (4 page)

“Are you out of your mind?”

Drew rounded on the intruder. He was so incensed that he
didn’t even look; he just grabbed a pair of arms and shook.

“No, I’m not out of my mind, but if you don’t stop
that, my brain will be permanently rattled.

Tyler could tell the moment his annoyed anger slipped from
his eyes and was replaced by… something she couldn’t quite identify. His hands
softened their death grip. She tried to pull away; he was much too close for
comfort. However, breaking free would mean a bit of a tussle and then she
wasn’t sure she could get out of his hold. It would be embarrassing, struggling
with someone stronger, all the time secretly hoping he wouldn’t set her free.

Tyler didn’t like her attraction to Drew Harper; it was
uncomfortable, to say the least. She couldn’t let him know he affected her in
any way, so she did the first thing that popped into her head — she kicked him.
Hard. It didn’t get him to turn her loose, but it did get her another shake.
And, Drew Harper, right up in her face.

Not the result she had been hoping for. Having him a hair’s
breath away, his lips so close she could practically feel them on hers. She
would have sworn to anyone who asked that she didn’t feel a thing. She would
have been lying like crazy — to them and to herself.

“What is wrong with you, Jones?” Drew dropped his
hands from her, reaching down to rub his shin. “First you try to scare the
crap out of me. When that didn’t work, you try to kick it out of me.”

Tyler felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn’t meant to scare him
— or hurt him. Both had been unpracticed reactions. She never had a problem
with admitting when she’d done something wrong. She was neither too proud nor
too stubborn to apologize when the situation called for it. Drew Harper
deserved her contrition; she just couldn’t bring herself to tell him.

He did something to her brain. Scrambled it. And that scared
her and pissed her off. Drew was out of bounds in every way. Why did he have to
be the only boy who had ever made her heart rate accelerate and her usually
sensible mind go all fuzzy? Tyler didn’t have the answer. She certainly wasn’t
likely to get one standing here with him so close she could smell a hint of
spicy cologne.

“You shave.”

Tyler wanted to groan. Why, oh, why, had she said that?

“I’m seventeen.” Drew shrugged, but there was a
definite defensiveness in his voice.

Oh, boy,
Tyler thought.
The male ego.
She knew
for a fact that neither of her brothers had needed to shave until they were out
of high school, though they had all the paraphernalia needed and made a big
production of miming the process every day. Her mother made a big deal about
it, feeding their need for validation at every turn.

Well, Drew Harper could stroke his own ego. Wow, that
sounded dirty.
She might have been just shy of her sixteenth birthday, but
she knew a double entendre when it skirted through her head. Thank goodness she
had kept that one to herself.

“Congratulations. Next comes eighteen.” She spoke
as if he were five.

“You are living up to your reputation.”

“I have a reputation?” The idea pleased her beyond
measure.

“Bitch.”

“Bastard.” If he were going to start throwing
around nasty insults, she would show him that two could play at that game.

“No, I wasn’t calling you one, though you deserve it.
That is your reputation. Hot, but a real bitch.”

“Oh.”

Tyler wasn’t insulted. If anything, she was back to being
pleased.

“You think I’m hot?”

“I also think you’re a…” Drew seemed to think
twice about using the word again. “Ballbuster.”

“Just so you know? Guys might think that’s an insult,
most girls don’t.”

“Good to know.”

He sounded like he meant it. Like he appreciated a bit of
insight into the female psyche. Tyler turned her head slightly to the side,
contemplating the young man in front of her. Not boy. She would have to stop
thinking of him like that. Drew Harper was on the verge of taking that next
step. No longer a child, almost a man. It was impressive. Her brothers were
older, M.J. almost twenty-five, Kyle less than a year younger. They were still
boys. Tyler often wondered if they would always be.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You change the subject fast.”

“Can’t keep up?”

He looked at her — long and hard. Tyler didn’t know what he
was thinking, but she liked the way his gaze never wavered. Dark,
chocolate-colored eyes assessed her with an honesty she’d never seen before.
The boys she knew would have looked away by now, fumbling for something to say.
Uncomfortable with silence. She stared back, almost daring him to blink first.

He did, but it was slow, deliberate. Tyler felt a funny
tingle in the pit of her stomach. She had read about physical desire — this was
the first time she’d felt it.

Panicked, she decided it was time to go. No hidden cove
today. Drew Harper was dangerous to her peace of mind. She needed to get as far
away from him and his disturbing gaze as possible.

She picked up her bike. In all the excitement, she had let
it fall onto the hard surface of the bridge. Giving it a quick once-over, Tyler
was relieved to see that her careless action hadn’t resulted in any injury to
her only mode of transportation outside of her own legs.

“Hey,” Drew called out when she would have ridden
away without a backward glance. “You never told me why you yelled at me
earlier. You sounded worried.”

Tyler glanced over her shoulder and shrugged.

“I thought you were about to pull a Billy Joe
McAllister.”

“A what?” Drew called out after her.

Not stopping, Tyler yelled, “Look it up, Pretty
Boy.”

TYLER TURNED OFF the torch and stood back. She gave the statue
a once-over with a critical eye. It was good, really good. She stopped at
great, not out of any misplaced lack of ego, but because she hadn’t gotten
there yet. But she would. This would be the best thing she had ever done — it
would be great.

Her musings about Drew hadn’t stopped the flow of her
artistic creativity. It had never been a problem for Tyler to do both — work on
a project, and work through a problem. Not that rehashing their first real
meeting had solved any problems. But it had reminded her of how strong the
connection had been from the very beginning. It got stronger and stronger. She
had been in the thrall of her first love. The intensity had been breathtaking —
overwhelming.

Moving her shoulders in a circular pattern, feeling the pop
in her neck, reminded Tyler that she had worked past the two hours she had
designated for the evening. All traces of sunlight had left the sky. There was
no moon or stars to illuminate the dark night. It would rain before morning if
the clouds that started to roll in that afternoon were any indication. Too soon
for snow, too cool for a refreshing summer storm. It might not yet officially
be fall, but it was in the air and any precipitation they got would have a
cold, gray feel to it.

That was fine with Tyler. In fact, in anticipation, she hit
a button to open several of the high-placed windows. A nifty feature she had
installed along with the automatic blinds. She had them installed judiciously,
sporadically. Partly because the price was dear. Mainly because she never
wanted her place to be light tight.

She couldn’t stand the thought of being in a black box. She
was five years old when her brothers locked her in the basement closet. What a
great joke. They then proceeded to leave the house for the rest of the day,
“forgetting” they hadn’t let her out. It wasn’t until three hours
later when her mother arrived home from work that Tyler was set free. She had
cried herself to sleep but her voice was hoarse from the screams that went
unanswered and she never again liked the dark. For some reason, small areas
didn’t bother her as long as she had a light. But the dark — it was her enemy.

Right now, she was fine with the lights by her work area.
The cool air from the now open windows was welcome, not too cold, bracing.
Tyler breathed in. It could cost an arm and a leg to heat a place with such
high ceilings and almost no walls. Insulation had been almost nonexistent.
Another expense she hadn’t needed. In the end, it had been a wise investment.
The electric company had given her a price break and her bills were a fraction
of what they would have been without the fiberglass that had been pumped into
her walls.

Then there were the solar panels that covered her roof. The
bank actually balked at increasing her loan when she’d put in for the money.
How could they not see the benefits? Well, Tyler took care of that. She went to
her meeting with the bank manager, armed to the teeth with information. Power.
The more you knew, the better your research. The more graphs and charts, the
better your chances of moving the decimal point on her already sizable debt.

Unlike Rose and Dani, Tyler didn’t have unlimited cash flow.
She made some good sales, some important ones. But most of that money went into
the down payment on this warehouse. The bank, for the moment, owned most of it.
She had a plan. If things continued the way they were, it would all be hers in
just a few years.

Tyler Jones was an up-and-coming artist. She might not do
what she did for a big paycheck; she wasn’t a fool. Her commissions were
growing and so was her asking price. She would have created for free — luckily,
she didn’t have to.

Carefully packing away her tools, Tyler gathered up the
empty water bottles that were littered all around the work area. She kept a
supply handy and drank from them absently. It stopped being a surprise to find
so many. She would gulp one down when she was thirsty.

As she piled the bottles into the dark blue container, Tyler
noticed the recycling bin was close to full. She searched for what day it was.
Still Saturday. The city truck wouldn’t be around until Tuesday for their
weekly pick-up, but she didn’t expect to be adding much more before then. She
was just reaching to close the lid when there was a loud pounding on her front
door.

With a frown, Tyler walked across her room. She looked through
the peephole. Not something she always did, but it was late and weird things
had happened lately. It did tend to put a person on guard.

What she saw was so unexpected — startling — that it took
Tyler a moment to gather her wits and release the locks on the door. Pulling it
back, she was greeted by a sight she had never expected to see.

M.J. And right behind him, holding her brother’s arm in a
vice-like grip — Drew Harper.

“TELL THIS ASSHOLE to get his hands off me.”

M.J. spat out the words, struggling to pull free of Drew’s
hold. It was like a piece of lint trying to fight its way out of a wind tunnel.

Drew was tall, muscular. His body was fit and hard. M.J. had
never taken care of himself. He had the same build as Tyler. Above average
height, a frame that ran to skinny. When he was younger, his face had attracted
women with little effort. Handsome, almost pretty, he never had to work to get
what he wanted. His mother indulged him, his father left him to be whatever he
wanted, and his girlfriends stupidly picked up the tab — whether it was at
dinner or a department store. M.J. had ridden the genetic gravy train from
birth.

But now, well past thirty, his looks were on the downswing.
Too much alcohol, drugs. Too many high calorie, nutritionally void meals. And
the closest he got to exercise was walking from his front door to his car. His
once rangy body had developed a pronounced pot gut that he tried to hide with
baggy t-shirts and oversized jeans.

Even with five feet separating them, Tyler thought he
smelled only slightly less objectionable than a garbage dump. Greasy, matted
hair, patchy beard — it never did grow in right — and bloodshot eyes completed
the none-too-appealing picture. M.J. had never cared that much about his appearance,
but this was bad even for him.

He was on one of his post bender run-offs. Brain fuzzy,
looking for a place to crash, and if lucky, something to steal to put a few
bucks in his pocket.

“Your alarm went off about ten minutes ago. Didn’t you
hear it?”

Tyler shifted her gaze to the man behind her brother.

“I turn off the sound when I’m working.”

“Well, what the fuck, Tyler? There’s a reason you have
the thing.”

“I’m well aware.” She almost called him by name,
something she had avoided for over a year. It was silly, but
Drew
stuck
in her throat.

“Do you mind?” M.J.‘s whine broke the silent
messages she and Drew passed with their eyes.

“What are you doing here, M.J.?”

“I need an excuse to visit my sister?”

“He was trying to jimmy the back door. Luckily, it’s well
locked up. Not that he was going to get in with this.”

Drew used his unoccupied hand to hold up a straightened coat
hanger.

“Really, M.J.? This is a building, not a car.”

“It worked before.” He mumbled under his breath.
But it was loud enough for Tyler to hear. Unfortunately, if she could
understand her brother so could Drew.

“He’s broken in before?”

Drew tightened his grip, ramming M.J.‘s arm up into the
middle of his back.

“Hey, that thing breaks.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“This is ridiculous.” Tyler stood back and
motioned for Drew and her brother to enter. She closed the door behind them and
stood with hands on her hips. God, what a pair. You would never know that M.J.
was ten years older — he looked twenty.

“Why are you here?”

“Who are you talking to?” Drew asked. “Cause
if it’s me, you already know the answer.”

“Actually, I was talking to both of you.” Tyler
turned to Drew. “But since you’re the first one to speak up. It was agreed
that either Jack or Alex would take care of my security system. You shouldn’t
be here.”