If Tomorrow Never Comes (Harper Falls Book 2) (28 page)

"Hey, yourself." Tyler, practically giddy, grabbed her friends from their seats and led them in a little group jig. Happy to join in, Edgar weaved between the dancing women.

"Wow." Rose smiled. She stopped their progress before they careened off the deck and all this happiness ended with a trip to the hospital.

"What put the wind back into your sails?" Dani asked, any lingering dark thoughts zipping away thanks to her friends happiness. "Whatever it was, it looks really good on you, sweetie."

"Pour me a glass of that tea and I'll tell you."

Rose complied, handing Tyler the drink.

"Read this."

While Tyler drank, Dani and Rose studied the paper.

"Not another letter from the Centennial Committee? Don't they have better things to do than waste paper and postage being redundant?"

"No postage, hand delivered. Keep reading."

"By Lurch?" Rose pondered.

"Alfred," Dani corrected. "Though technically his name is really Potts."

"Yes," Tyler said like a teacher trying to reign in a classroom full of easily distracted six year olds. "It was Regina's butler. Now,
read
!"

"Right."

"Sorry."

Suitably chastised, Dani and Rose bent over the letter. Ten seconds later came the first
OH MY GOD!
followed by,
WOW, HOLY CRAP
!

"How?" Rose lowered the paper, she and Dani sporting identical stunned expressions.

"Does it matter? I am now officially back in the running to do the commemorative statue.
And
it's my original design, the best one, the one you guys gave your stamps of approval." Tyler knelt and gave Edgar a big hug. In return, he happily swiped his very wet tongue over her cheek.

"And Regina suddenly finds herself so busy with other committees that she's removing herself from this one?" Dani shook her head in wonder. "Someone had to force her out. She wouldn't willingly give up any power, especially power over you. But who has that kind of influence?"

"Drew."

The word was softly spoken, but both Dani and Rose heard. Tyler might as well have screamed it into a bullhorn.

"Well, who else?" she asked, seeing their expressions.

"No, you're right," Rose assured her. "It just opens up so many cans of worms I'm trying to mentally hop around to avoid squishing any under my feet."

"If any of those worms is the Harper Harpy, squish away." Tyler was so giddy she even managed to mention Regina with only a trace of her usual bitterness.

"So we're all in agreement that it had to be Drew?" Dani whistled softly. "I can't even imagine what that was like. After ten years? Tyler, you know what this means."

"No, I don't," she said quickly. "Or, at least I don't want to think about it, not right now." She stayed where she was on the deck sitting cross-legged, her arm still around Edgar.

"Oh, Tyler." Rose reached down and squeezed her friend's hand.

"I should thank him." She sighed. "I know, I should. It's just so…it's awkward. I'm still angry."

"Justifiably so," Dani piped in, ever supportive.

"Exactly," Tyler nodded. "But," her voice softened slightly, "This was epic. Close to the ultimate gesture."

"You think this was about getting back into your good graces?" Rose asked.

"No," she said firmly, "I really don't. Look, I can't claim to know Drew anymore. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really did."

"Of course you did," Dani exclaimed, her green eyes flashing. "It may have ended badly, but you and Drew were in love, and you never would have given your heart to someone you didn't know."

"You're right." She looked at Dani then Rose then with a burst of energy popped to her feet. "But those thoughts are for another day," she said as she paced. "Right now, I need to use the little girls' room. By the way, that little euphemism was for you, Rose. What with your resolution not to swear, I didn't want to offend your newly virgin ears with the word pee."

"Thanks a lot," Rose called after her. Turning to Dani she whispered, "Quick, what do you know?"

Even though Tyler had entered the house, Dani kept her voice low. "I doubt anything more than you. Alex reluctantly admitted that Drew is out of town, which could mean anywhere from Spokane to Timbuktu. I know he's doing something that could be potentially dangerous, but I don't know what. Though," she lowered her voice even more, keeping an eye out for Tyler. "When I called him, I heard loud engines in the background, like at a race track."

"That's more than I know." Rose frowned. "Jack is lousy at hiding when he's worried, thank goodness. So I wheedled until he told me just enough to get me worried too. The whole,
Drew can take care of himself
crap didn't help."

"I know, and now because we couldn't leave it alone, we're stuck with deciding what, if anything, to tell Tyler."

"You're right." Rose sighed. "Jack didn't want to divulge anything to me and this is why. He wanted to save us having to make just this decision. But I wouldn't leave it be, I just had to know."

Dani could identify. Curiosity was a great quality to possess—until it wasn't. And now they were saddled with a tiny bit of information that, if they shared with Tyler, wouldn't do any good but
would
add to the list of people worrying. Maybe there was a way to help Drew without burdening Tyler with too much unnecessary information.

"What if we—" she broke off when she heard Tyler returning. "Just follow my lead."

"Great toilet seat," Tyler said, sitting next to Rose.

"I know, it does everything but dry you off. There might have been a model that does that, but I gave a great
big hell
no when Jack even hinted at it."

"I concur. Now about my
should I thank Drew or shouldn't I
problem."

"I was thinking," Dani said. She hoped she wasn't about to violate the friend code they all rigidly tried to stick to, but this really was information Tyler could live without. If she and Rose had to deal with the fallout later, so be it.

"Text him."

"Text him?" Tyler echoed. "That's your big bit of advice?"

"Hear me out. You can't go see him."
Mostly because he's out of town.
"You don't want to do this in person, do you?"

"No
, God,
no."

"A phone call would be just as strained," Rose said, picking up Dani's train of thought.

"A text lets him know you're grateful but saves you both from having to elaborate. Short but sweet."

"I guess, but why does it seem like the chicken way to do it?"

"Why do you think texting was invented?" Dani reasoned. "So we could get around socially awkward moments just like this. Get out your phone and get it over with. Once it's done, you'll feel better."

"You're right."

"Don't you need one of us to give you his number?"

Tyler looked at them a bit sheepishly.

"I've had it since that whole hospital incident. We were going back and forth, in each other's faces, you know."

"Oh, we know," Rose teased.

"Right, so I suggest the
let's have sex
thing. Which for some reason sets him off. And I don't know how it happened but at some point I shove my phone at him and he shoves his phone at me." Tyler shrugged. "Somehow we exchanged numbers, just in case."

"Just in case one of you decided it was time to scratch that old itch?" Dani finished for her.

Tyler nodded. "But since I made the initial move, it's up to him to call me if he ever gets his balls back. The end result, I have his number." She stood. "I know this is silly, but I'm going to go inside."

"It's a big moment, get some privacy," Dani said.

"Shouldn't I feel badly that we've kept information from our best friend?" Rose asked once Tyler was out of earshot.

"No," Dani assured Rose—and herself. "We did the right thing. And hopefully if the gods are with us, Drew will read that text, pull his head out of his—pardon my French—ass, and stop whatever idiocy he's in the middle of."

"Could we be that lucky? And just because I'm curbing my bad language doesn't mean you and Tyler have to mention it every time you want to swear."

"True," Dani grinned, hugging Rose with one arm. "But our way is so much more fun."

DREW COULD BARELY hear when his crew chief reminded him it was twenty minutes before race time. Actually, calling Tripper a crew chief was like calling the puddle of piss left by a drunk in an alley a body of water. Technically accurate, but a huge exaggeration.

Rather than yell back, he gestured OK. Drew liked the noise, the chaos. He didn't have to think about anything. No one here knew who he was, no one cared—that was how he liked it.

He reached to zip up his jacket when his phone chimed, not a with call but, a text. If it were an emergency Jack would want to talk so it couldn't be anything important. He hesitated, ready to ignore the distraction, then cursed, grabbing the damn thing, and looked at the screen.

Tyler.
She wasn't
just
a distraction, she was a Russian novel's worth. Christ, that was almost funny. Their story was so long and twist-filled it could be subtitled
War and Peace.
Sighing, he pulled up the message. Two words only—
Thank you.

Drew felt something catch in his throat, then had to remind himself—
breathe.

"Boss. Yo, Boss."

Tripper was yelling in his ear, waving a hand in front of his face.

"What?" he barked.

"The race, five minutes." Tripper gave Drew a concerned look. "Is there something wrong with your phone?"

Confused, Drew looked down. He was rubbing the screen on his chest—over his heart. No doubt about it, his life was royally messed up. But there was no fixing it today. He put the phone back in his jacket and turned to Tripper.

"Let's do this thing."

IT WAS ONE week since they had found the listening devices in Dani's loft and things were, well,
normal
. It was a good word, especially when you'd lived so much of your life dealing with situations that were anything but. A little normal felt good for a change.

Alex pulled his bike to a stop in her driveway, honked the horn and waited. Earlier that day, Dani had reminded him that she'd never had a ride so they'd made an old fashioned date. And since she thought he looked like a hot hoodlum (he'd argued, but she insisted the term fit) it was important that, at least for tonight, he play the part. The boots, the worn, faded jeans, black leather jacket, and white t-shirt.
The
Wild One.
Fifties Brando, she assured him, had been hot and dangerous.

Who was he to complain? If Dani wanted to play out a little fantasy, he was more than willing to oblige. Pull up, honk, and wait. Those had been his instructions. No movie biker worth his salt would come to the door, his woman came to him. That gave him plenty of time to think about the past week.

None of his contacts knew anything useful. If the bugs had been planted by someone in the Army, it wasn't an official operation. That had been a dead end, but reaching out hadn't been without its benefits. He'd thought when he walked away from his career that he had left his friends behind too. His mind hadn't been able to reconcile keeping one but not the other. Surprisingly enough, it didn't take five minutes and he was laughing and ribbing with them like always, no strain, no discomfort. It was good to know his buddies still had his back.

Drew had returned seemingly no worse for wear, and though Alex hadn't known him long, it wasn't difficult to see a difference in the man's personality. He spent more time alone in his office—door closed. He had made it through his race with no outward signs of injury, but a dark cloud had descended that he couldn't, or didn't want to, shake off. According to Jack, whatever had happened, Drew was keeping it to himself.

Then there was Dani, sweet, funny, hotter than hell Dani. He was maintaining his vigilant protective mode, not that it was a hardship spending every spare moment with her. They shared breakfast and dinner, had gone to the movies and necked in the back row. They took a walk through town, holding hands, talking about nothing in particular. Dani had become something he'd never had before—his girlfriend.

It should have been an odd word for a man pushing thirty to call a woman that for the first time, but even in high school, Alex had never even flirted with the idea. He'd dated lots of different girls, none more than once or twice. Once he'd joined the Army, there had never been time. He moved around, from one base to another, never putting down roots. Then he met Dani. After her, no other woman could measure up. He'd met his ideal and he'd made himself walk away. Settling for a pale imitation had been out of the question.

And then there was the sex they were having. Well, that was off the charts. There was no comparison between a one or two-night stand and having a woman who meant something. Was it love? Alex had been asking himself that for five years. Back in Portugal he would have said yes, no hesitation. Even though he had never said the words, he'd thought them, felt them. But now? Maybe, but it was too soon. He'd only had one session with his psychologist, a woman who specialized in treating PTSD. He frowned at the term. Alex knew it was a legitimate illness; he'd seen others who had it and encouraged them to get help? How many times had he told another soldier that there was no shame in admitting you needed help. It meant you were strong, not weak. And he had meant every word. He'd just never thought he'd ever have to try and convince himself. Until he did, until he knew the treatment was working, he wouldn't let himself make promises to Dani that he couldn't be sure he'd be able to keep.

"Hey, daddy-o, I like what you've got between your legs."

Funny?
The woman was freaking hilarious. Dani had gone all out. Her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, the cuffs turned up on her jeans, bobby sox and saddle shoes, a pink scarf tied around her neck. She was even chomping away on a piece of gum, stopping occasionally to blow a very impressive bubble. She stood, hands on hips, giving him a sassy look. It was all he could do not to say to hell with the date and spend the evening finding out what things she could do with that bright red lipstick covered mouth. Even though she sometimes made him feel like one, he wasn't an uncontrollable animal. He could wait a few hours—probably.