I’ve never had a family—I grew up in the system.
So this—I look around the kitchen, kind of messy, smelling like what I always imagined home to smell like—is important to me. They’re all mine, and I’ll fight for it, and for them—until the death if I have to.
32
HARPER
The East Side Overlook is deserted at dusk, which is exactly why I message Luke and tell him to meet me there. It was short and direct with no room for misinterpretation—only the location and time.
He’d responded immediately.No questions. No flirtation. Just agreement.
Which somehow makes this worse.
I pull my truck into the gravel lot and kill the engine, staring out at the valley below. The sun’s sinking behind the mountains, painting everything in shades of orange and purple that would be beautiful if I could focus on anything other than the fact that I just asked Luke Bennett out on a date.
In a deserted location.
On purpose.
What the hell am I doing? Obviously the fact that I haven’t gotten any in longer than I care to admit has gotten to me.
I check my reflection in the rearview mirror and immediately regret it. My hair’s flat from the long day at work, and I have shadows under my eyes that no amount of concealer is going to fix. I look like I haven’t slept in days even though it was only last night.
But I’m pretty sure I’d give up another night of sleep if it means Luke climbing through my bedroom window and making me come so hard I see stars.
“Jesus, Harper,” I mutter. “Focus.”
I get out of the SUV and lean against the hood, crossing my arms over my chest. The air’s cooling fast now that the sun’s going down, and I should’ve brought a jacket. But I didn’t, because my jackets are all utilitarian and some stupid part of me wanted to look... I don’t know. Pretty. Feminine. Like more than a deputy sheriff.
“Idiot.” I shake my head.
I hear his truck before I see it—the low rumble of the engine cutting through the quiet. My stomach flips as he pulls in beside me and shuts off the ignition.
Luke steps out, and I start to drool.
It’s so unfair, how good he looks. Jeans, black T-shirt, boots. His dark-blond hair slightly mussed like he’s been running his hands through it. He has that easy confidence that makes me want to either punch him or kiss him.
I know which impulse is winning, and that’s a problem.
“Officer Hot Stuff,” he says as he comes around to face me. His voice is low and warm, but his gaze is absurdly hot as he does a slow sweep of me, from the tips of my boots to the top of my head. “You summoned me.”
I roll my eyes, but my heart’s pounding. “Don’t make this weird.”
“Too late.” He leans against his truck, mirroring my posture. “You look nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.” The butterflies in my belly are morphing into pterodactyls as we speak.
He looks around us. “Well, I’m nervous. Did you bring me out here to kill me?”
I roll my eyes again. “I asked you here because we need to talk.”
“About?”
“Last night.”
His grin steals across his too handsome face slowly, his green eyes lighting his devilment. “I’m going to love this topic.”
I take a deep breath. “About the van?—”