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He looked at me sharply, his eyes tired from work.“I’d tell her what I could.”
So that’s what I’ve done, essentially confirming that she’s guessed it correctly without outright saying it.
Adam looked at me for a few moments, as if seeing the reason I was asking… as if seeing a lot else.
I wonder.
But no. He can’t know. Can he?
I could tell Harper how I became a big brother to Eva in the orphanage and visited once I left to make sure she was doing okay. How we argued, more than once, about the shame she held about it, but it was her decision to share that part of her life. I’d never push her on it.
“Are you excited?” I ask now, glancing at my woman.
She’s got her hands clasped in her lap, a ring I’ve never seen before glinting at me. It brings more rings to my mind, one belonging to a different finger, as I kneel and stare up at her…
She nods, cheeks blossoming red. Somehow, it’s possible to forget about everything else.
“Are you?” she asks.
“Yeah. It’ll feel like being a real couple. Like we don’t have to hide.”
Maybe one day, we won’t have to.
That look in Adam’s eyes…
Am I hoping too fiercely?
* * *
I place my hand on the small of Harper’s back as I guide her through the restaurant. It’s an open rooftop with fires in metal grills, flickering so the winter air is kept at bay. Our table is in the corner, and the place is quiet.
It’s a thrill to press my palm against her. I can feel the warmth of her body through the fabric of her shirt.
“Drinks to start?” the waiter asks.
I order some sodas, and then we look over the menus, but I’m more interested in watching Harper. She has a beautiful smile on her lips, and she is resilient despite what happened. I look at her and see all the strength of a ferocious mother, with all the beauty of my perfect woman.
“I dreamed about this,” she says, meeting my eyes sassily.
It’s like she’s silently saying,Don’t think I’ve forgotten you said we’d talk.
“Us, having a date together.”
“So did I,” I say huskily.
She gasps as our drinks arrive, and then I tell the waiter we need a few more minutes to decide on food.
With a sense and bravery, Harper reaches across the table and takes my hand. She gazes at me steadily.
“What do you mean, you dreamed about it, too?”
I swallow, knowing I can’t go any further without giving her answers.
“The fight, when I left, wasn’t about Eva.”
“No?”
“It was about you.”
