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Chapter Sixteen
Latham
I’m whistling as I head up to my apartment to make the call. My realtor called a few minutes ago, but I was finishing up with a customer and had to ignore the ringing. Now, I’ve got a few minutes to return his call and use the bathroom.
“Pete Benson.”
“Pete, it’s Latham. How’s it going?” I ask, pacing my small living room and kitchen.
“Well, Latham. I heard from Mrs. Morton. She said her son is coming home this weekend, and she’ll be discussing both offers with him. She’ll have an answer for me Monday.”
Monday. I’ll know the fate of the empty building between my hardware store and Harper’s panty haven in just four short days. “Anything I can do to ensure I get it?” I ask, instantly feeling guilty.
“Turn on the Latham Douglas charm, man. Stop by and schmooze her or whatever. Just make sure it’s your offer she picks when she makes her decision,” Pete says.
Sighing, I scrub my hand over my face, feeling the several days’ old scruff. Usually, in the summer, I hate it, but I guess when summer is at home versus on foreign soil in a shithole, it doesn’t seem to bother me too much. “Yeah, I hear ya.”
After signing off, I pace my small living area, wishing I had more room to stretch my long legs. I haven’t been in too much of a hurry, but maybe it’s time to start looking for my own place to live. The small apartment above the store has been convenient as hell, but I wouldn’t mind a yard. And maybe a dog.
At that thought, my mind instantly wanders to Snuggles, that ugly-ass mutt who has somehow wormed her wrinkly way into my heart. Damn dog.
And damn the owner.
She has definitely worked her voodoo magic on me too.
There’s no time to try to figure it out now. There’s still several hours left in the day, and I’ve got to make a visit to Mrs. Morton in hopes of convincing her to sell the building to me. Guilt tinges the back of my neck and works its way down my spine. My chest aches at the thought of somehow deceiving Harper, but in honesty, she’s deceiving me too. At least she is if she knows I’m the one she’s in the bidding war with. Harper’s fiery side won’t let her sit back and not act, which is why I don’t think she knows it’s me.
Again, the guilt slides through my chest.
I have to push it away, though. This is business, plain and simple. If this were anyone else, it wouldn’t matter. I’d do whatever was needed to ensure she signed her building over to me.
Clearly I’m thinking about a certain redhead a little too much because I can smell her succulent, sweet scent. Knowing my break is over, I head down the short hall to the bathroom to take care of personal business before going back to the store to deal with Felicity. She hasn’t done anything all day but file her nails, but that’s okay. She seems to fuck up whatever task I give her anyway. The sooner I can convince Dad to give her the boot, the better. I’ve already had to upgrade our back-up computer system since she has somehow crashed the computer and deleted our entire inventory in a matter of two days.
Flipping open the lid and seat, I pull my cock from my pants to piss. As soon as I get a steady stream flowing, I hear what sounds like…splatter. Glancing down, I realize there’s something covering the toilet bowl. Unable to stop the flow of urine, I jump back, trying to avoid the piss raining down on my boots and pant legs.
“What the fuck?” I holler, failing to keep the flow angled to the bowl and now peeing all over my damn floor. “Son of a…”
Finally, I stop pissing all over myself, and the floor, and just stand there. I’m so shocked, I don’t even know what to do. I mean, yeah, I need to clean up the piss – and change my boots and pants. I quickly tuck my dick back in my pants and zip up, reaching for the faucet and wash my hands. Thank God the bathroom is small as shit and I don’t have to go far.
I stick my hands in the warm water and start to scrub, trying to figure out how in the hell Saran Wrap wound up on my toilet.
And then it hits me.
“Harper,” I growl.
My motions start to get jerky as I finish washing my hands and rip the hand towel off the towel bar. How in the hell did she get in here without my knowledge? I should have known the moment I smelled her that it wasn’t a hallucination. She had somehow gotten into the upstairs apartment. Since I keep the outside door locked at all times, the only way to get in was the entry from inside the hardware store. That means I have a traitor in the mix.
My dad.
Speaking of dear ol’ Dad, I hear his voice as he walks through the apartment. “Latham?”
“In here,” I grumble, tossing the hand towel on the sink.
A shadow falls over the floor as he fills the doorway. “Ummm…”
“Don’t ask,” I snip, retrieving a towel from the shelf and the cleaning supplies from the cabinet.
“You do know that goes in the toilet, right?” Dad asks, his question laced with humor. “Your mom will be so disappointed the potty training didn’t stick. Should I get the Cheerios?”
