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If it were true, that meant there was another Harper sibling out there. Holy crap. No wonder Faith had looked upset. Faith was fierce about family. She would want to know. “What do the lawyers think?”
“I gather they think that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions while they find out more,” Zach said. “I tend to agree with them. We can drive ourselves crazy speculating or just wait until we have some facts.”
Did he really think that? Or was that just what he’d told Mina and Faith to make them feel better? She searched his face, but he wasn’t giving anything away. “I think you’re right,” she said. Hell, she could hardly tell him not to bury his head in the sand when she was intent on burying hers.
He hitched a shoulder slightly in acknowledgment then scrubbed a hand over his face. “So now you know as much as we do.” He shook his head. “You know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a normal family.”
“I think almost everyone wonders that at some point. All families have their quirks.”
“Yeah, but you have to admit, mine has quirks with a capital quirk.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m kind of fond of you all. Granted, Grey was original but hell”—she stopped and waved her arm toward the garden and the ocean beyond—“he gave you all of this. And he gave you Faith and Mina. And Lou. That’s not so bad.”
“Not going to let me feel sorry for myself, huh?”
“Nope. It’s my birthday. No being a downer.”
That made him laugh. “All right then.” He twisted, body angling toward her. “It is past midnight, though, so technically it’s not your birthday any more.”
She shook her head. “Oh no. It’s my birthday until I go to bed and fall asleep, that’s the rule.”
“You make the rules now?”
“It’s my birthday.” She bumped him with her shoulder. “I am the birthday queen.”
He reached across, gently tugged one of the strands of hair that was coming down from the updo she’d wound it into. The scent of his skin made her catch her breath. God. Why did she want him so much when it was all going to end in disaster?
“And what does Your Majesty require on her birthday?” he asked.
There was only one answer to that question. “This,” she said, hearing the echoes of memory as she leaned in.
“Ah, that old line,” he said, closing the distance between them, stopping just short, so his mouth was just one tantalizing inch above hers. “Say it again.”
“This,” she breathed and pressed her mouth to his.
“This,” she said again as his arms came around her and the kiss sank through her and washed away every last shred of common sense in its wake.
“You got it,” Zach said and then somehow, he was lifting her, walking toward the door. There was a slightly awkward maneuver as he shifted his weight to free his palm and scan the door open, but she just tightened her legs around his waist and held on. Held on as he kissed her again and walked through the darkened guesthouse without pausing until they reached the bedroom and he let her down, so they were standing there, kissing wildly like they had that very first time they’d stood here so many years ago.
Eventually she had to come up for air and they broke apart, breathing heavily, eyes locked.
“I like your birthday,” Zach said softly. “It often works out well for me.”
She laughed. “I’m quite fond of it too.” She stepped back in, reached for the first button on his shirt. “But ssssh, I’m unwrapping my present.”
The rumble of his laugh vibrated against her fingers as they moved against cotton and skin. But he didn’t speak. Just stood there and let her do what she wanted, those eyes watching her, their color drowned in the moonlight but the heat in them unmistakable every time she glanced up.
By the time she reached the last button, her fingers were trembling.
“Leah,” Zach said, putting his hands over hers. He was warm and strong and hot against her and she swayed toward him, wanting his kiss. She thought it would be wild again, drive them forward, but instead Zach turned things slow. Patient.
Fierce but sweet. Sweeter than that first time. Their first night had been hungry and fumbling and sweet and glorious and hot. Bound up in longing and hope and youthful optimism. There was still longing. Still heat that sent her melting every time his fingers moved across her skin. But she wasn’t eighteen anymore.
And she knew he wasn’t forever.
She knew she couldn’t hope it would work out differently. All she could do was bank this memory. Add it to the store that might help after he was gone. Hope that she wasn’t just adding to the thoughts that might break her at three a.m. when she was alone again and he was thousands of miles away.
But if she was going to be foolish—and when it came to Zach, it seemed that was always what she was going to be—she would err on the side of hope. And take as much time from him as he was willing to give. Time and whatever else he offered her.
