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He almost asked, but there were more pressing questions.
Like, did she have tattoos covering her entire torso? If so, was it called being torso-ed? If she’d had tatts covering her arms they would be called sleeves.
Now probably wasn’t the best time to ask for clarification.
Harmony was supposed to be the “good” one. The ladylike one. But here she was all Kat Von D goes gangbanger.
It was comforting to know that after all this time, all he felt for her was sisterly love. And a healthy dose of fear.
“That’s a lot of firepower just to answer the door.” He held the cold coffee milkshake out to her. Had something happened in her past that made her feel unsafe? Just the idea pissed him off, and there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to hug her and ask what he could do to make things better. He knew better than to try, though. He had a highly developed sense of self-preservation, and she had some really big guns.
She closed the door and leaned against it, crossing her arms. “What do you want?”
“No small talk … I can appreciate that.” How had he ever thought he was in love with this surly, gun-toting, tattoo-covered, cookie-baking debutante? He could see things so clearly now … it had always been Lyric.
When he didn’t say anything else, Harmony checked her watch. “I do have things to do today.”
“I need your help.” He wasn’t sure exactly how to make peace with Harmony, so in the end he just blurted it out. “I need your help picking out Lyric’s engagement ring.”
She shot him an oh really look. “You don’t need to pretend in front of me, asshole. I know your engagement is crap.”
Had Harmony always been this hard?
“It’s not crap. I’m serious. I’m in love with your sister, and I want to do this ring thing right.” He didn’t have a backup plan if she threw him out.
“Why don’t you get her one made out of volcanic ash? Or better yet, use some of that Boy Scout’s melted wheelchair. I bet that would make a nice wedding ring.” Harmony had snarky down to a science.
So she hadn’t bought the Kilauea story? It was one of the tallest tales he’d ever blessed the world with. It was amazing anyone had bought it.
Harmony studied him like she was looking for his poker tell. “Why now?”
“Because I finally figured my shit out. In high school I was too stupid to know that it was Lyric. I thought I was in love with you, especially after we … you know. But, no offense, it was never you. It was always Lyric who made me laugh. Lyric who listened to my problems. Lyric who always made me feel better, no matter how down I was.” Right up until she wrote him out of her life.
He didn’t know what else to say. He loved Lyric, it was that simple.
“Hmmm. Seems a little convenient to me.” Harmony was a tough sell.
“Convenient?” He shook his head. “There’s nothing convenient about my feelings for Lyric. Earth-shattering? Yes. Painful? Absolutely. Desperate? No doubt. But convenient? Not even close.”
His whole life had changed with one single realization. If Harmony wouldn’t believe him, how in the hell was he going to convince Lyric?
Her head tilted to the left, and she continued to watch him like she was convinced he was here to steal her TV.
“You really want to go ring shopping? Does Lyric know she’s getting an engagement ring?” Harmony wasn’t warming to him so much as thawing ever so slightly.
“Nope. Total surprise.” He grinned and tried handing her the Frappuccino again. She took it and stared at it like she was trying to use X-ray vision to figure out if the whipped cream was flavored with Rohypnol. Finally, she took a long pull from the green straw.
“If you hurt my sister in any way, they will never find your body … got it?” She was so matter-of-fact.
“Got it.” He swallowed convulsively. He routinely stared down ten three-hundred-pound men whose single goal was to crush him into a million pieces. That didn’t bother him. But Harmony? She scared the shit out of him.
She continued to stare at him without blinking—it was creepy. “Good, now you know where we stand. Because I am not picking up the pieces when you fuck up again.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant. Why had Lyric fallen to pieces before? The thought niggled at the back of his brain again, had him thinking that he was missing something really important.
She set the Starbucks cup down and headed toward the back of the apartment. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed.”
“Take as long as you want,” he told her magnanimously. Now that he’d gotten what he wanted, he could afford to be patient.
