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I turn to face her, finding her standing by the door, a determined glint in her eyes. “Absolutely,” I reply, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand.
The cold air bites at my skin as we make our way to my truck, but it does little to dampen the warmth radiating from Harper’s presence. I open the passenger door for her, and she smiles gratefully before climbing inside.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind whistling through the trees.
I shut the door and making my way around to the driver’s side. Once we’re both settled in, I start the engine, and we pull onto the road. The silence that fills the space between us is thick with anticipation, neither one of us knowing what to expect when we arrive at the bakery. My fingers grip the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary as I navigate the slick streets.
“Antonio?” Harper’s voice cuts through the quiet, tentative and unsure.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for doing this,” she says softly, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before returning to the passing scenery. “I know you didn’t have to.”
“Harper, there’s no need to thank me,” I assure her, my voice firm but gentle. “I’d do anything to help you.”
And for the first time, I realize the deep truth behind my words.
As we turn onto the street where the bakery stands, I feel my heartbeat quicken. The sight of the charred remains sends an icy shiver down my spine, but I push those feelings aside, focusing on the task at hand. I park the truck and glance over at Harper, who seems lost in thought.
“Ready?” I ask, reaching over to squeeze her hand reassuringly.
“Let’s do it,” she replies, determination flooding her features.
We step out of the truck and approach the bakery, only to find the insurance agent, Cleveland, already present. I take in his appearance—a thin, tall man with a tight-lipped face that seems to be perpetually on the verge of a sneer. He’s standing by the wreckage, arms crossed, as if he’s waiting for us.
As we follow Cleveland through the remnants of the bakery, I can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness toward Harper. Whatever happens today, I’ll make sure she gets the justice she deserves—no matter what it takes.
Cleveland’s eyes narrow as he scrutinizes the bakery, his pen tapping incessantly against his clipboard. I watch him closely, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I can’t shake the feeling that he has already made up his mind about this whole situation, and it infuriates me.
“Harper,” Cleveland says, his voice dripping with condescension. “Care to explain how a fire started in your establishment?”
Harper swallows hard, her eyes darting from the wreckage to Cleveland. “I…I don’t know. I was upstairs in my apartment with my children, when the first started downstairs in the bakery.”
“Ah.” Cleveland nods, scribbling something down on his clipboard. “Leaving your business unattended? Irresponsible, don’t you think? And I find it hard to believe?—”
“Let’s get something straight,” I interject, stopping him in his tracks, my pulse pounding in my ears. “You’ve received a report from the fire station and investigators that arson is a possibility, and the suspect is someone from her past. That’s not up for debate, but if you’d like it to be, maybe we can involve a lawyer instead.”
Cleveland’s jaw clenches as he glares at me, the rage in his eyes betraying the calm façade he tries to maintain. “Fine,” he spits, scribbling furiously on the check before ripping it from the book. He thrusts it into Harper’s hands, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Merry Christmas.”
I can’t help but tense up, bracing for Harper’s reaction as she unfolds the check and scans the amount. Her eyes widen, and she lets out a sharp gasp, her fingers trembling as they clutch the paper.
“Eighty thousand dollars?” she breathes, disbelief etched across her face.
“Take it or leave it,” Cleveland sneers, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you have any problems with the amount, email HR.” And then he’s walking out without so much as a second glance in our direction.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, still staring at the check in awe. She turns to me, tears swimming in her eyes, and before I know it, her arms are wrapped around my waist, her body pressed against mine. My heart stutters at the intimate contact, desire mingling with a fierce protectiveness that consumes me.
“Antonio, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you,” she whispers, her breath warm on my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
“Seeing you safe and rebuilding your life is all the repayment I need,” I reply softly, my voice catching as I gently stroke her hair. Her scent envelops me, intoxicating and familiar, and I tighten my hold on her.
As our hug lingers, I feel the heat rising between us, the electricity of our connection crackling like wildfire. I tilt Harper’s chin gently upward, guiding her gaze to meet mine. Our eyes lock. “Harper,” I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper. I search for any sign of hesitation in her eyes, but all I find is vulnerability mixed with desire.
“Antonio,” she murmurs, her voice equally soft. The way she says my name ignites a fire within me that I can no longer deny.
And then it happens—I lean down, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that seems to set the very air ablaze. She responds eagerly, her hands gripping the back of my neck as our mouths move in perfect harmony, desire fueling every touch, every taste.
“God, I want you,” I groan into the kiss, my hands sliding down her back, pulling her impossibly closer. Her body melds against mine like a missing puzzle piece, and I can’t help but imagine how perfectly we would fit together in other ways.
