Until Harmony
Page 30

“I’ll take one.”
He lifts his chin and heads for the bar.
“He’s right,” Nico grumbles, and my eyes go to him. “I don’t like it, but he’s right.” He takes a pull from his beer, sets the half empty bottle on top of the table, and stands. “I’ll let you know what I find out. In the meantime, take care of my girl.”
“Always.”
“Sophie wants you two over for dinner on Harmony’s next day off. Make sure that happens,” he murmurs, and I lift my chin, getting the same gesture from him in return before he disappears into the crowded bar.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself, taking a pull from my almost empty beer. “Fuck.” That shit did not go as planned, but then again, I’m thinkin’ it went way fucking better. On that thought, I grin.
***
Lying on Harmony’s couch, Dizzy sprawled out on my chest, eyes pointed to the TV, I hear Harmony’s car pull up. Dizzy, who hears it too, jumps up to stand on my chest, bounces once making me grunt, and then hops off me and the couch, taking off toward the door.
It’s Tuesday, five days since I met with Nico. The day after I met with him, I spoke with Evan to see if he could find out any information for me, and this morning while Harmony was in the shower, he called. He was able to find out that there have been way more than two nurses at the hospital who got fired unexpectedly, but he’s having trouble finding out why. Still, he’s digging, and hopefully, I will know something soon.
Harmony’s told me that Hofstadter hasn’t approached her again and that she hasn’t seen him around the hospital, which could mean he’s either decided to back down or is trying to come up with a new game plan. I’m hoping for the first and preparing for the second.
Coming out of my head when the front door opens, I watch Harmony walk in carrying an iced coffee in one hand and two reusable grocery bags in the other.
“Angel, I just went grocery shopping yesterday,” I remind her, something she should remember, since she bitched about all the food in the fridge—like she’s done every time I’ve stocked it. She complains she won’t be able to order takeout and will have to cook, when she hardly ever cooks, since I do it most of the time.
“I know.” She smiles. “This is for Mom and Dad’s.” She heads to the kitchen, dropping the bags to the counter before coming to me.
“I thought we were going to their place for dinner?”
“We are, but I’m making crab cream cheese delight to take with us,” she says. I have no idea what that is, but I have no doubt it will be really fucking good. She hasn’t cooked much, but when she does, it always tastes amazing. Seeing she’s close but not close enough, I do a half ab curl, wrap my hands around her hips, and pull her down on top of me, kissing her hard and fast. I listen to her whimper before pulling my mouth from hers and lying my head back against the arm of the couch.
“How was class?” I question, sifting my fingers through her hair, and she rests her chin on one hand at my chest, her other hand curving around my neck.
“Good.” She shrugs. “Easy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I still wish I could have spent the morning in bed with you then been here when you got home,” she says quietly, while she studies her fingers that are lazily running down my throat.
Hearing her call this home, my hand on her hip tightens. “I’ll take Thursday off. We’ll spend the day together, maybe go for a ride on my bike, and then out to dinner.”
“Really?” she whispers, her eyes locked on mine, and her hand slides up to cup my cheek as her thumb skims over my cheekbone.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I don’t know what to do with you,” she answers.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs, glancing away before looking back at me and continuing. “I never knew I could have this with someone, this easiness, this kind of bone-deep happiness. But with you, I feel it everyday, and everyday, it gets better and better. So when you do sweet things like say you’re going to take time off work so we can spend time together, that better is way better.” She pulls in a deep breath before finishing quietly, having already knocked me on my ass. “And I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Fuck.” I sit up, forcing her to her back, then loom over her with my face close to hers. “How long is it going to take you to cook the shit you bought to take to your parents?” I ask, and she blinks up at me, looking a little stunned by our new position.
“I… wha— Why?”
“Because I want to eat you and fuck you, so I need to know how much time I got. Need to know if I got time to take you with my mouth, or if I need to just fuck you, leaving the eating you part for later.”
“Oh,” she breathes, then she turns her head and looks at the DVR player and the time there.
“Angel,” I growl impatiently, and her eyes come back to me. The raw, primal desire there, is hard to miss.
“I… I don’t think you have time to eat me,” she whispers, and fuck me, my mouth actually waters at the idea of tasting her.
“That’s all right.” I run my tongue up her neck, then whisper in her ear, “Means I get to take my time eating dessert when we get home.”
“Oh,” she moans, her hips lifting into mine. Raising my head above hers, I look into her beautiful eyes then lose sight of them as I slant my head and take her mouth in a deep, long, hot kiss before I fuck her on the couch. After we’ve both come, I watch her walk naked toward her bedroom carrying her clothes, and yank up my jeans.
“Want a beer?” she asks, coming out a few minutes later wearing no bra, a white tank, and sweats cut off as shorts, running her fingers across the back of my neck.
I tip my head back to look at her upside down. “Yeah, baby.”
“Kay.” She bends over, kissing me upside down, then leans back and smiles before heading to the fridge, coming back a second later with a beer. She hands it to me with another kiss before disappearing into the kitchen.
Sitting on her couch, bare feet up on the coffee table, beer in my hand, listening to her in the kitchen, I know without the shadow of a doubt that every single moment in my life led me right to her, that not only am I in love, but I’m in love with her in a way I will be until the day I die.
Chapter 9
Harmony
HEADING TO MY PARENTS’, sitting next to Harlen in the passenger seat of his SUV—an SUV that should have been towed to a junkyard about a century ago—I shift, hearing the worn, dried, and cracked leather crunch under me.
“Honey, exactly how old is this thing?” I ask.
He glances over at me quickly before looking at the road once more. “Why?”
“Just wondering how long it takes leather to go from…” I pause, trying to figure out how not to hurt his feelings. “Well… leather to dust,” I say, and he laughs, loud, squeezing my fingers that are threaded through his.
“It’s a ninety-two,”
“A ninety-two?” I repeat on a whisper, looking around the interior. The back seats look just as bad as the front, maybe even worse, the material ripped and flaking off in spots. The carpet on the floor is missing in huge chunks, the metal showing through, and the outside is mostly rust. Sheesh, it’s not just old; it’s really old.
“Yeah a ninety-two.”
“Do you think maybe it’s time for an upgrade? I mean, it doesn’t have to be anything crazy. It can even be like a two thousand or something.”
“I don’t need anything newer. I only drive this when I can’t ride my bike, and luckily, that’s not often.”
“So you’re saying I’ll probably ride in this thing more than just this once,” I surmise, thinking I should update my tetanus shot sooner rather than later.
Laughing, he lifts my hand to his lips, kissing my fingers. “Yeah, baby, that’s what I’m saying.”
“Are you opposed to seat covers?” I ask, and he smiles at the windshield.
“No.”