In the Garden Trilogy (87 page)

“Of course. She looked like an Amber.”

“She’s a corporate lawyer.”

“She is not.”

“God’s truth.” He held up a hand like a man taking an oath. “Beautiful doesn’t have to mean bimbo, of which you are living proof.”

“Good save. Were you serious—and forget that spilled out. I hate when women, or men for that matter, poke into past relationships.”

“You showed me yours. Not serious. She didn’t want serious, neither did I. She’s focused on her career right now.”

“You ever been serious?”

“I’ve approached the parameter of serious a few times. Never crossed over into the zone.” He sat Lily between them, snugging her in so she could swing.

Better leave it at that, Hayley told herself. Leave it comfortable with the three of them lazing on the glider with the bees humming in the hazy heat and the flowers bursting through it with bold summer colors.

“This is the best part of summer,” she told him. “Evening shade. It seems like you could sit where you are for hours, without a single important thing to do.”

“Don’t want to get away from here awhile?”

“Not tonight. I wouldn’t want to leave Lily two nights running.”

“I was thinking we could take her to get some ice cream after dinner.”

Surprised, she looked over. Then wondered why she’d
been surprised he’d suggest it. “She’d love that. So would I.”

“Then it’s a date. In fact, why don’t we go out, get a burger and finish it off with ice cream?”

“Even better.”

S
TEAMY
J
ULY MELTED
into sweltering August, days of white skies and breathless nights. It seemed almost normal, almost peaceful as day blended into day.

“I’m starting to wonder if just finding out her name was enough.” Hayley potted up pink and yellow pentas. “Maybe the fact we worked to find it, and how she’s Roz’s great-grandmother’s, satisfied her, calmed her down.”

“You think she’s done?” Stella asked her.

“I still hear her singing in Lily’s room, almost every night. But she hasn’t done anything mean. Every once in a while I feel something, or sense something, but it fades away. I haven’t done anything weird lately, have I?”

“You were listening to Pink the other day, and talking about getting a tattoo.”

“That’s not weird. I think we should both get tattoos—a flower theme. I’d get a red lily, and you could get a blue dahlia. I bet Logan would think it was wicked sexy.”

“Then let him get the tattoo.”

“Just a little one. A girly one.”

“I think girly tattoo is an oxymoron.”

“Absolutely not,” Hayley protested. “Flowers, butterflies, unicorns, that kind of thing. I bet I could talk Roz into getting one.”

The idea had Stella tossing back her red curls and laughing. “Tell you what, you talk Roz into getting a tattoo and . . . Nope, I still won’t join the party.”

“Historically, tattoos are ancient art forms, back to the Egyptians. And they were often used to control the
supernatural. Since we’ve got some heavy supernatural going on, it would be like a talisman,
and
a personal statement.”

“My personal statement will be refusing to let some guy named Tank carve a symbol—girly or otherwise—into my flesh. Just call me fussy. Those look good, Hayley. Very sweet.”

“Customer wanted sweet, and the yellow and pink are her daughter’s wedding colors. These’ll make nice centerpieces for the wedding shower. I think I’d shoot for something a little bolder, a little punchier myself. Maybe jewel tones.”

“Something you’re not telling me?”

“Hmm?”

“Bride colors on your mind?”

“Oh, no.” She laughed and set a completed pot aside. “No, nothing like that. We’re just, Harper and me, we’re just taking it slow. Really, really slow,” she added with a huff of breath.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, I did. I do. I don’t know.” She blew out another breath, fluttering her bangs. “It’s smarter. It’s more sensible to take things really easy. There’s a lot at stake most people don’t have to consider. Like our friendship, and the work, and our connection to Roz. We can’t just jump into the sack because I’ve—we’ve got an itch.”

“But you want to jump into the sack.”

Hayley slid her eyes over to Stella’s. “I was thinking more dive in, headfirst.”

“Why don’t you just tell him, Hayley?”

“I made the first move. He’s got to make this one. I sure as hell hope he picks up speed pretty soon.”

“I’
M TRYING NOT
to rush her.” In the kitchen, Harper drained the better part of a can of Coke. He rarely
broke for lunch, but early afternoon meant there would be no one in the house but David.

“You’ve known her going on two years, Harp. That’s not just not rushing, that’s standing still.”

“It was different before. We’ve only just started seeing each other this way. She said she wanted slow. I think it’s killing me.”

“I don’t think people actually die from sexual frustration.”

“Good. I’ll be the first. I’ll be written up in medical journals posthumously.”

“And I’ll be able to say I knew him when. Here, eat.”

Dubiously, Harper poked at the sandwich David set in front of him. “What is this?”

“Delicious.”

Without much interest, Harper picked up the sandwich. “What is this?” he asked again after a sampling bite. “Lamb? Cold lamb?”

“With a touch of nectarine chutney.”

“That’s . . . pretty damn good. Where do you come up with—no, no, stay on target.” He took another bite. “I’m good at reading women, but I can’t get a handle on her, on this. It’s never been important before—not this way—so I keep clutching.”

With his own sandwich, David slid across from him. “It is good you came to me, young student, for I am the master.”

“I know. I thought about just walking over one night, maybe with a bottle of wine, knock on her terrace door. The direct approach.”

“It’s a classic for a reason.”

“But she’s nervous about Amelia, about having any sort of, you know, encounter, in the house. At least that’s my take.”

“Is encounter code for hot sex?”

“Damn you, you’re too clever for my pitiful ruses.
Anyway, I could have her and Lily over for dinner, and after the baby was asleep—a little wine, a little music.” He shrugged and felt he was riding around the same circle again.

“There’s also a reason why fine hotels have room service and Do Not Disturb signs.”

“Room service?”

“Work with me, Harp. You take her out to dinner—fancy dinner. Let’s try the Peabody. They have lovely rooms, lovely service, fine food—in-room dining.”

Chewing thoughtfully, Harper played it out in his head. “I take her out to dinner—in a hotel room? Don’t you think that’s a little . . . brilliant,” he decided after a moment.

“Yes, I do. Wine, candles, music, the works, all in the elegant privacy of a hotel suite. You’ll be bringing her breakfast in bed the next morning.”

Harper licked chutney off his thumb. “I’d need a two-bedroom suite for that. Lily.”

“Your mama, Mitch, and I would be more than happy to entertain the charming Lily for a night. And to show your amazing forethought—or mine—I’ll pack an overnight bag for Hayley. You’ll just have to get the room, take her things in, arrange the service, set the scene. Then sweep her up there and off her feet.

“This is a good idea, David. I should’ve thought of it myself, which just shows how messed up in the head she’s got me. I’ve got to get back, talk Stella into juggling the schedule so I can pull this off. Thanks.”

“I’m always here to serve the course of true love, or at least hot hotel sex.”

S
HE WORE HER
red dress. It was the nicest she had, and she liked the way it looked on her. But she wished
he’d given her time to go out and get something new. All their other dates had been casual.

He’d seen her in this dress. The fact was, he’d seen her in everything she owned.

Still, she had great shoes. Roz’s cast-off Jimmy Choo’s that probably cost three times what the dress did. And worth every penny, Hayley decided as she turned in front of the full-length mirror. Just look what they did for her legs. Sexy instead of skinny, she decided.

Maybe she should wear her hair up. Lips pursed, she scooped it off her neck, angling her head this way and that to check the effect.

“What do you think?” she asked Lily, who was sitting on the floor busily putting a pile of little toys in Hayley’s oldest purse. “Up or down? I think I can pull the up-do off, if I keep it sort of tousled. Then I could wear those cool earrings. Let’s try it.”

When a man said he wanted to take you out to a special dinner, she decided as she pinned and re-pinned, the least you could do was pull out all the stops, appearance-wise.

Right down to the underwear. At least that was new—and purchased recently with the idea that eventually he’d see her in it.

Maybe tonight, if they could extend the evening a little. He could come back here with her. She’d just have to block Amelia out of her mind. Block the idea that Harper’s mama was right in the other wing. That her own daughter was in the next room.

Why the hell did it have to be so complicated?

She wanted him. They were both young, free, unattached, healthy. It should be simple.

Becoming lovers should have weight. She remembered Harper’s words. Well, the situation had weight. It was time she started thinking of that as a plus instead of a minus.

“I’m the one making it weird, Lily. I can’t seem to help it. But I’m going to try.”

She put on the earrings, long, flashy gold dangles, considered a necklace and rejected it. The earrings made the show. “Well.” She stepped back to do a little turn for her daughter. “What do you think? Does Mama look pretty?”

Lily’s response was a mile-wide grin as she dumped everything out of the purse.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hayley said, then turned back to the mirror for one last check.

The breath left her body so fast her head went light.

She wore a red dress, but not the thin-strapped, short-skirted number she’d had for more than two years.

It was long and elaborate, cut low so that her breasts rose up to be framed by the silk with a cascade of rubies and diamonds spilling down over the exposed flesh.

Her hair was piled high in an elaborate confection of shining gold curls with a few arranged to frame a striking face with lush red lips and smoldering gray eyes.

“I’m not you,” she whispered. “I’m not.”

She turned deliberately away, crouched to pick up scattered toys with trembling fingers. “I know who I am. I know who she is. We aren’t the same. We aren’t alike.”

Chilled with a sudden panic, she spun back again, more than half afraid she’d see Amelia step out of the glass, and become flesh and blood. But she saw only herself now, with her eyes too wide and dark against her pale cheeks.

“Come on, baby.” She grabbed Lily, and at the baby’s wail of protest, snatched up the old purse, then her own evening bag.

She made herself walk at a reasonable pace, and slowed even that as she approached the stairs. Roz would see the shock on her face, and she didn’t want to talk about it. Just
for one night she wanted to continue the illusion of normal.

So she took her time, got her breath back, got her features under control. She strolled into the main parlor with Lily on her hip and a smile on her face.

H
EAT LIGHTNING SIZZLED
in the sky, broody bursts, as they drove into Memphis. The traffic was as sulky as the night, but Harper seemed immune to it. They might have limped into the city, but the air was cool in the car, and Coldplay simmered out of the speakers.

Every so often he’d take his hand off the wheel to lay it over hers. A casually intimate gesture that made her heart sigh.

She’d been right to say nothing of that vision, or apparition, whatever it had been, in her bedroom mirror. Tomorrow was soon enough.

“I’ve never had dinner here,” she said when he pulled into the hotel’s lot. “I bet it’s wonderful.”

“One of Memphis’s finest jewels.”

“I’ve been in the lobby. You can’t come to Memphis
without seeing the Peabody’s duck walk. It’d be like not seeing Graceland or Beale Street.”

“You forgot Sun Records.”

“Oh! Isn’t that the coolest place?” She shot him a stern look. “And don’t think I don’t know you’re laughing at me.”

“Maybe a chuckle. Not an outright laugh.”

“Well, anyway, the Peabody’s got an awesome lobby. You know they’ve been doing that duck walk for over seventy-five years.”

“Is that a fact?”

She gave him a little shove as they walked toward the hotel. “I guess you know all there is to know about the place, being a native.”

“Finding out more all the time.” He led her into the lobby.

“Maybe we could have a drink in here before dinner, by the fountain.” She imagined something cool and sophisticated to mirror the way she was feeling. A champagne cocktail or a cosmopolitan. “Is there time?”

“We could, but I think you’ll like what I have in mind even better.” He walked with her toward the elevators.

She glanced back over her shoulder with some regret. All that gorgeous marble and colored glass. “Is there a dining room upstairs? They don’t have one on the roof, do they? I’ve always thought roof-top dining was so elegant. Unless it rains. Or it’s windy. Or it’s too hot,” she added with a laugh. “I think roof-top dining’s really elegant in the movies.”

He only smiled, nudged her inside ahead of him. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?”

“You did, but I don’t mind certain kinds of repetition.”

“You look beautiful.” He touched his lips to hers. “You should always wear red.”

“And look at you.” She ran her fingers down the lapels
of his dark jacket. “All duded up in a suit. The rest of the women in the restaurant won’t be able to eat for envying me my good luck.”

“If that’s the case, we might just have to give them a break.” He took her hand as the doors opened, then led her into the hallway. “Come with me.”

“What’s going on?”

“Something I hope you’ll like.” He stopped at a door, took out a key. He unlocked the door, opened it, gestured. “After you.”

She stepped inside, her breath catching as she saw the spacious room. Her hand fluttered up to her throat as she crossed the black and white checkerboard tiles into a parlor where candles flickered, and red lilies speared lavishly out of glass vases.

The colors were deep and rich, long windows adding the sparkling lights of the city. In front of one, a table was set for two, and a bottle of champagne sat in a gleaming silver bucket.

There was music playing, slow, soft Memphis blues. Stunned, she turned a circle, saw the spiral staircase that led to a second level.

“You . . . you did this?”

“I wanted to be alone with you.”

Her heart was still in her throat as she turned to face him. “You did this for me?”

“For both of us.”

“This beautiful room—just for us. Flowers and candles, and God, champagne. I’m overwhelmed.”

“I want you to be.” He stepped to her, took both her hands. “I want tonight to be special, memorable.” And brought them to his lips. “Perfect.”

“It’s sure off to a good start. Harper, no one’s ever gone to so much trouble for me. I’ve never felt more special.”

“It’s just the start. I ordered dinner already. It’ll be up in about fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for us to have that drink. How do you feel about champagne?”

“I feel like I couldn’t settle for anything less right now. Thank you.” She leaned to him, took his mouth for a long, warm kiss.

“I’d better open that bottle, or I’ll forget the lineup of events.”

“There’s a lineup?”

“More or less.” He walked over to lift the bottle from the bucket. “And just so you can relax, I gave Mama the number here. She’s got that, your cell, mine, and I made her promise to call if Lily so much as hiccups.”

He popped the cork as she laughed. “All right. I’ll trust Roz to keep it all under control.”

She did a little spin, just couldn’t help herself. “I feel like Cinderella. Minus the evil stepsisters, and well, the pumpkin. But other than that, me and Cindy, we’re practically twins.”

“If the shoe fits.”

“I’m going to wallow in this, Harper, I may as well just tell you that. I don’t know how sophisticated I can be when I just want to jump up and down, go racing around to look at everything. I bet the bathrooms are amazing. Do you think that fireplace works? I know it’s too hot for a fire, but I don’t care.”

“We’ll light it. Here.” He handed her a glass, tapped his to it. “To memorable moments.”

She held the moment, the glow of it. “And to men who make them happen. Oh, wow,” she said after the first sip. “This is really good. Maybe I’m dreaming.”

“If you are, I am, too.”

“That’s all right then.”

He touched her, skimming his fingers over the back of
her neck, exposed by her upswept hair. Then with the lightest of pressure eased her toward him. The knock on the door brought on a wry grin.

“Prompt service. I’ll get it. Once they’ve set up dinner, we’ll be completely alone.”

H
E MADE IT
all happen, she mused. The big picture, the tiny details so the evening unfolded for her like the pages of a storybook. And because of him, she was sitting in an elegant suite, sipping champagne with the romance of candlelight, the shimmer of firelight. Flowers scented the air. There was a lovely meal she could barely taste through the anticipation bubbling in her throat.

Tonight, they would make love.

“Tell me what it was like for you, growing up,” she asked him.

“I liked having brothers, even when they pissed me off.”

“You’re close. I can see that whenever they come to visit. Even though they live away from Memphis, the three of you are like a team.”

He topped off her glass. “Did you wish for sibs when you were a kid?”

“I did. I had friends and cousins to play with, but I did. A sister especially. Somebody to tell secrets to in the middle of the night, or even to fight with. You had all that.”

“As kids, it was like having a personal gang, especially when David came along.”

“Bet the four of you drove Roz crazy.”

He grinned, lifted his glass. “We did our best. Summers were long, the way they’re supposed to be when you’re a kid. Long, hot days, and the yard, the woods, they were the whole world. I remember how it smelled, all green and thick. And this time of year, how you’d hear the cicadas all night.”

“I used to leave my window open a little ways at night so I could hear them better. I bet y’all got in plenty of trouble.”

“Probably more than our share. You couldn’t slip much by Mama. She had this radar, it was a little scary. I remember how she’d be in the garden, or in the house doing something, and I’d come around and she’d just know I’d been doing something I shouldn’t’ve been doing.”

She propped an elbow on the table, cupped her chin in her hand. “Name something.”

“The most baffling, at least at the time, was when I was with a girl the first time.” He drenched one of the strawberries in whipped cream, held it out for her to bite. “I came home having had my first sample of paradise in the back-seat of my much-loved Camaro, about six months after my sixteenth birthday. She came into my room the next morning, and put a box of Trojans on my dresser.”

With a shake of his head, he polished off the berry. “She said, and I remember this very well, that we’d already talked about sex and responsibility, about being safe and smart and careful, so she assumed that I had used protection, and would continue to do so. Then she asked if I had any questions or comments.”

“What did you say?”

“I said, ‘No ma’am.’And when she walked out the door, I pulled the covers up over my head and asked God how the hell my mama came to know I’d had sex with Jenny Proctor in my Camaro. It was both mystifying and humiliating.”

“I hope I’m like that.”

His eyebrows lifted as he coated another berry. “Mystified and humiliated?”

“No. As smart as your mama. As wise as that with Lily.”

“Lily’s not allowed to have sex until she’s thirty, and married a couple of years.”

“Goes without saying.” She bit into the berry he offered,
mmm
’d over it. “What happened to Jenny Proctor?”

“Jenny?” He got a look on his face, a kind of half smile that told her he was looking back. “Why, she just pined away for me. She was forced to go to California to college, and stay out there and marry a screenwriter.”

“Poor thing. I shouldn’t have any more,” she said when he topped off her glass again. “I’m already half buzzed.”

“No point in doing things halfway.”

Angling her head, she sent him a deliberately provocative look. “Is part of the lineup you talked about getting me loose on champagne so you can have your way with me?”

“It was on the schedule.”

“Thank God. Is that event coming up soon, because I don’t think I can sit here and look at you much longer without having you touch me.”

His eyes darkened as he rose, held out a hand for hers. “Here was my plan. I was going to ask you to dance, so I could get my arms around you, something like this.”

She slid into them. “I haven’t found a single flaw in your plan so far.”

“Then I was going to kiss you, here.” He brushed his lips over her temple. “And here.” Her cheek. “And here.” And her mouth, sinking in slowly and deeply until that meeting of lips was the center of the world.

“I want you so much.” She pressed against him, burrowed in. “It takes me over. Take me over, Harper. I’ll go crazy if you don’t.”

He circled her toward the steps, stopped at the base and looked into her eyes. “Come upstairs, and be with me.”

With her hand in his, she started up, then let out a breathless laugh. “My knees are shaking. I can’t even tell if it’s from nerves or excitement. I’ve imagined myself with you so many times, but I never imagined I’d be nervous.”

“We’ll go slow. No rush.”

Her heart was beginning to trip and stumble, but there was one more thing. “Um, I’m using something—birth control—but I think we should . . . I didn’t bring any of those Trojans.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Should’ve figured you’d thought of everything.”

“Be prepared.”

“Were you a Boy Scout?”

“No, but I dated a few former Girl Scouts.”

It made her chuckle, and nearly relax again. “I think . . .”

She trailed off as she stepped into the bedroom. There were candles waiting to be lit, and the lamp on low. The bed was already turned down, with a single red lily resting on the pillow.

The romance of it saturated her.

“Oh, Harper.”

“Wait.” He walked around the room to light the candles, to turn off the lamp. Then he picked up the flower and offered it. “I brought you these because it’s how I think of you, how I’ve thought of you since the beginning. I’ve never thought of anyone else the same way.”

She stroked the petals over her cheek, breathed in their fragrance, then set the lily aside. “Undress me.”

He lifted a hand, nudged the thin strap from her shoulder, laid his lips there. In turn, with her heart beating thickly, she slid the jacket off his.

Then her mouth found his as her fingers opened the buttons of his shirt, as his drew down the zipper at the back of her dress. His hands cruised over her back, and hers spread over his chest. When her dress slithered to the floor, she stepped out of it—then held her breath as he eased back and just looked at her.

She wore flimsy scraps of red that shimmered in the candlelight against her smooth pale skin. And high, high
heels with long, long legs. Desire, already impossibly strong, clutched at his belly.

“You’re amazing.”

“I’m skinny. All angles, no curves.”

He shook his head, reached out to trace a finger over the subtle curve of her breast. “Delicate, like a lily stem. Would you take your hair down?”

With her eyes on his, she reached up to pull out the pins, then skimmed her fingers through it. And waited.

“Amazing,” he repeated. Taking her hand, he drew her to the bed. “Just sit,” he said, then knelt in front of her to slip off her shoes.

His lips trailed up her calf and had her clutching the edge of the bed. “Oh God.”

“Let me do the things I’ve thought about doing.” His teeth grazed the back of her knee. “All of them.”

There was no thought to deny him, and no words that could surface through the flood of sensation. His tongue slid along her thigh, that mouth burning tiny brands into her flesh even as his hands traveled up, tracing her breasts with his fingers until they ached over her thundering heart.

She shuddered out his name, falling back on the bed as he came to her.

She could hold him close now, touch as she was touched. Taste as she was tasted. The pleasure filled her—the glide of his hands, the heat of his lips, the catch of his breath as they rolled together to find more.

No rush, he’d told her, but he couldn’t slow his hands. They wanted to take, and take more. Her breasts in his hands, in his mouth, small and firm and satin smooth, and when he feasted on them she bowed up, exposing the long, slender line of her throat.

At last, she was his.

Her nails bit into his back, scraped down his hips. Tiny
thrilling pains. Then she was over him, her mouth as greedy as his, and her quick, gasping breaths roaring in his head like a storm.

Candlelight sheened over her skin, skin going damp with the heat they fueled through each other. The gold of those flickering lights glowed in the deepening blue of her eyes as he slid his hand over her, found her hot. Found her wet.