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Like she’d done time and time again, she interjected before Brody acted like Brody and said something horrible to his best friend, all in his weird way of ensuring her dreams happened. “Is there a reason you’re standing there acting all growly?” she asked calmly.
Brody still had yet to blink. “Why are you in here holding hands?”
While her hand still tingled from where Chase had been holding her fingers, and the effects of that touch still quivered in her belly, she had no time for this protective side of Brody. She was a twenty-six-year-old grown woman, perfectly capable of choosing her lovers and deciding what she wanted out of life. “We aren’t holding hands,” she said firmly. “Chase cut his finger at work. I’m helping him clean it up.”
Brody glared at Chase’s finger, apparently inspecting the wound to decide for himself if Chase deserved to be hurt further.
Harper kept her focus on the wound. Sure, Brody’s protective side got annoying fast; she also couldn’t blame him. When their parents had died in a tragic boat crash when he was eighteen years old, he insisted she stay with him instead of moving with their aunt—Mom’s sister—to New York City, where Harper had been living while competing in MentorChef Teen. Harper guessed Brody felt it necessary to guard her like her father would, only worse. But she also understood that some of his defensiveness came from the fact that her parents died during the filming, taking her out of the running. She returned home to death and sadness in the midst of something that should have been the happiest time in her life. Something she had worked so hard for had been ripped away. Her one chance was gone in a flash. And Brody seemed hell-bent on ensuring that nothing got in her way of finding her dreams this time.
To calm her brother, she added in her rational voice that she’d perfected over the years, “As you can see, he needed stitches, but Chase refused to go to the hospital, so this will have to do.” She gave Chase a forced platonic smile, pretending that all the heat and intensity burning between them did not exist, and that her panties were not soaking wet. The last thing she wanted to do was get in the way of their long close friendship. “You’re good to go.”
When he finally looked at her, any hint of what she had seen in his eyes before was gone. She could never forget that smoldering look. He craved her, as much as she did him. Sadly, she knew Chase was a dream she had to stop pursuing.
She was, and would always be, Brody’s baby sister. The one woman he was sworn not to touch. Because seeing their close friendship over the years showed her that what made Chase so incredible was his fierce loyalty to not only his family but to his friends. And while she returned from school to discover the guy she had fantasized about all through her teen years had suddenly taken notice of her and clearly wanted her in his bed, she also knew it would never happen.
Three months, she had been blatantly throwing herself right at him. Three months, he was careful not to step over the line.
Like it had been every time Brody was nearby, Chase’s expression was utterly frigid when he rose. “Thanks for the help,” he said.
“No problem.” She smiled to hide her disappointment and began gathering up the bloodied napkins.
With Chase vanishing through the door, Brody gave Harper a look, then he was gone too. She could finally breathe again, flopping back into the seat, and shutting her eyes. Oh my God!
This thing with Chase was a problem. A big one.
Before she left to attend culinary school in Denver, Chase had been her brother’s hot best friend. That was it. She hadn’t really even talked to him much growing up, mainly because he didn’t know she existed. Being so much younger, she was his best friend’s little sister who spent most of her time cooking with her mom. But when she’d come home, with big dreams of soon moving to Las Vegas to be mentored by the famous chef Jack Suttell, who owed the five-star restaurant Black Jack’s Cellar, everything seemed different. Jack had been involved in MentorChef Teen, and when he had run into her at culinary school, he’d begged to mentor her. But then Harper came home and saw Chase again. The young man she had a crush on had turned into a gorgeous, strong cowboy with a heart of gold. And he noticed her. He smiled at her with heat and interest. He flirted in ways no man ever flirted, promising so many things with his eyes alone.
In that first week she had come back and seen him, she couldn’t deny or ignore there was something there between them. Something raw and explosive, causing her to stay these past months exploring her feelings for him. Because her heart mattered just as much as her dreams, and she’d never felt such intensity with anyone before.
But then days passed and months passed, and the moment when he made his move never came. His loyalty to Brody could not be broken, and Harper knew her brother would never give his approval because Chase would threaten her following her dreams. And more and more, she needed to stop thinking of having Chase’s lips on hers, his muscular chest pressed against her breasts, and that tall, ripped body draped over her while he slid deep inside her. This all needed to stop. Because she realized there was something worse than not being noticed by Chase, and that was being noticed but having a thick line he would never cross between them.
“Harper.”
She jumped out of the chair. “Yes!” Her hand flew to her chest. “What?”
Emma Monroe, her best friend and Shep’s—the eldest Blackshaw brother’s—girlfriend, burst out laughing. Her light green eyes twinkled while her long, thick brown hair floated down to the ground when she bent over, holding her middle. “I just scared the hell out of you.” When she straightened, her smile remained. “What’s got you all inside your head?”
Harper dropped back into the chair, laughing too, studying her friend. While Emma was the type of pretty that came naturally, her beauty shone from the inside out. She’d never met anyone so warm before. They’d only been friends for four months now after Emma moved to River Rock from New York City, but in those months, she’d become closer to her than she had with friends she’d known all her life.
Emma leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. “Seriously, though, are you okay?”
“Totally fine.” Harper dropped her hand to the armrest, breathing deep, settling her heart that had been ready to jump out of her chest.
“You don’t look fine.” Emma’s gaze roamed Harper’s face, eyebrows drawn tight. “I’m not sure what this look is on your face, but it’s definitely not . . . fine.”
Harper blew out a final breath and leaned her head against the headrest. “This look is . . .” She almost said, that I’m fine, but then realized she was repeating what Chase had been doing, and saying fine too much indicated she wasn’t fine at all. Instead, she said, “Brody is just being Brody.”
Emma gave an understanding look and a sweet smile. “He loves you.”
“Sometimes too much,” Harper said, turning the swivel chair side to side, finishing up with a shrug. “But sometimes I love him too much as well.” That’s what happened when two children lost their parents, only Harper loved Brody differently. She often thought of him before herself because of how much he had given up to raise her.
Right then, an oval face appeared over Emma’s shoulder, revealing Kinky Spurs’ owner, Megan Harrison. Twenty-eight years old, Megan turned heads, from both men and woman alike. She held an air about her that was special, and Harper could never put a finger on what made her stand out so much. Sure, she was pretty with her distinctive eyes—the left one blue, the right one brown—and her long, sandy-colored hair held a beachy wave like Harper had never seen, but there was something unique about Megan.
Her frown, though, was the opposite of inviting. “Is there a reason I’m working the bar by myself?” she asked.
“Something’s wrong with Harper,” Emma said.
Megan’s frown deepened when she pushed her way farther into the office to stare upon Harper’s face. “What’s wrong?”
