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A sudden thought entered her head. “Is that what you’re doing with Shazad. Leaving your mark?”
He glanced at her with, not surprise, but…yes, wariness in his gaze. “Making my mark. The sale is the first step.”
“So making your mark isn’t about leaving a legacy of great products, but about the payout generated from the sale of the company?” It really all came down to the money? She understood goals and success, but surely he wanted something deeper than a dollar figure as his measure.
Seth leaned closer. “Everyone recognizes the power of money, Harper. Even the drunken sheet-metal worker and his bitter wife in suburban Sydney, nobody can ignore you when—” Seth stopped, stepped back, his features losing the hard intensity from seconds ago. “Come on, everyone’s waiting.”
He led her down the hallway, but her mind was stuck on his words. ‘Drunk sheet-metalworker. His bitter wife.’ Seth’s grandparents. The money, the sale, the achievement—everything tied back to his grandparents and proving himself. ‘Making your mark and showing your worth.’ He’d said those words at their first dinner together, but she hadn’t understood his motivation.
Some rejections cut deep wounds, deep enough they never healed.
How incredibly sad. Her heart ached for the once little boy and the man he’d become.
“Harper, you’re here.” Milly’s excited cry startled her. The little girl, dressed this time in a pair of pink shorts and a T-shirt featuring Elsa from Frozen, sat on a stool on the far side of Heath’s wooden kitchen counter. “Uncle Adam said you and Uncle Seth had a lip lock problem.” Her little mouth turned down at one end. “Did it hurt?”
The strangled sounds of barely suppressed male laughter filled the now quiet room. Harper’s face flamed, and she studied the checkered cloth covering her basket with enough focus to tally the material’s thread count.
“We’re fine, kiddo.” Seth moved around the counter to kiss his niece on the forehead, taking the opportunity on the way to punch Adam in the arm a mite harder than was considered polite.
The commando’s grin was devoid of shame as he sat on one of the kitchen stools with his laptop on the counter in front of him.
She smiled as the little girl, with some help from her uncle Seth, slid off the stool and came around to Harper. Dropping down so they were eye level, Harper wrapped her in a soft hug, smelling the fresh scents of shampoo and sunshine in the little girl’s braided hair. “I didn’t know you were coming today, Milly. But I packed a treat for you, just in case one of your uncles could pass it along.”
“Cool.” The little girl clapped her hands together. “I kept the box you gave me last week.” Her face shone with her excitement. “For my hair ties, and the butterfly clips Uncle Heath gave me.”
“Oh, how gorgeous!” She’d have to get a couple more boxes for the little sweetie. Maybe Abby would decorate them with some of her Sharpie drawings?
“Harper, glad you made it.” Heath’s low voice drew her gaze. The detective was laying out steaks on a metal tray. His bare feet, AC/DC T-shirt and jeans gave an air of casual relaxation that stood in marked contrast to the perceptive sheen in his blue gaze. He came close and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “How’s things?”
Heath had seen her twice during the week, and called too, primarily to keep her updated that they were still searching for her intruder but had no suspects. The detective’s frustration at not being able to find his suspect endeared him to Harper. “I’m good. Heath, you have a fabulous home.”
“Thanks. It’s getting there.” He smiled as he reached for a bottle of olive oil near the stove and placed it next to the tray. “Only the front room and the second bathroom to finish, and I’m done.”
Dillon closed the fridge door and held a bottle of white wine in his hand. “Hey, honey, great to see you.” He walked over and kissed her cheek. His handsome face was unshaven today, giving him a harder edge. It suited. “Drink? Heath’s got a nice sauvignon blanc.”
She smiled at the oldest Justice brother. “Yes, please, Dillon.” She lifted the loaded basket. “I brought goodies.”
“Grill’s ready.” Zach walked in past the open sliding glass doors. He stopped next to Seth, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. His jeans and brown Triumph T-shirt looked worn but clean. Old favorites. He smiled at Harper, and the resulting look proved guys with beards and tats didn’t always have to look super scary—in fact, far from it. “Great seeing you, babe.”
Seth lifted his chin at Zach. “You made the drive from the cabin? I didn’t think you were coming today.”
Zach leaned an arm on the counter. “After your call last night, I’m thinking, yeah.” His dry tone forced a self-depreciating laugh from Seth. Zach sent a meaningful look at his daughter, who had moved back to sit next to Adam and was coloring a sheet of paper he’d given her with some crayons. “Milly’s brought her DVD of Frozen. She’s going to watch that while we chat.”
At the mention of her movie, Milly looked up from her drawing, her hazel eyes bright. “Do you like Elsa, Harper? Isn’t she gorgeous? She’s my most favoritest Disney star ever.”
Harper caught the indulgent looks of her father and uncles. What must it feel like to be surrounded by so much protective love? “Elsa’s my niece Becky’s favorite, too.” Harper played her trump card. “Just to say, I’m my family’s current SingStar champ with “Let It Go”.”
“Oh, Jesus.” Heath dropped his head. “It’s only been a week since we had that song on replay. I went to bed with it playing in my head.”
“Brother, the record is seven days in a row. I pray you never know my pain.” Zach said, his voice wry.
Milly, however, was in heaven. “Uncle Adam plays SingStar with me. His voice is awesome.”
Harper knew her jaw had dropped, but for the life of her, she couldn’t shut it before Adam drilled her with his gaze. “It’s our thing.” His deep voice held a note of warning as he gently laid a hand on Milly’s head.
Oh, my. This trained killer performed SingStar with his niece. Harper felt her nose sting. “Adam, that’s so sweet.”
Adam frowned as something akin to awkwardness made him shuffle on his stool. “It’s nothing.”
