Chapter Sixteen

"Harper, you want a drink? Harper?" Luis kicked his foot. "What's going on? You've been in a funk all week."

They were in the park with David, sitting in a shady corner. It was late Saturday afternoon, and he hadn't stopped thinking of that disastrous last meeting with Colson.

"I'm fine. Just busy. And I'll take one of those club sodas." He took the ice-cold can from Luis and opened it.

"You're not busy at work. You've been home at a normal time every night. With the same sad-sack face, I might add."

"I said it's nothing."

Luis drank some of his soda and held David's juice box for him to take a drink. "Well, I had an interesting week."

"Yeah?" Harper drank more club soda. Could he have been so wrong about Colson? Luis had even said he was kind to David and treated him well. Maybe he'd overreacted. There was no doubt he was overly sensitive about David, and when Colson had mentioned not wanting to be in the park, all he could think of was Ronnie, and he wouldn't, couldn't, let himself be with another man who pretended to care.

And yet Colson had texted him twice during the week, asking if they could talk.

I'd really appreciate it, Harper. Please?

Bastard that he was, Harper ignored Colson's pleading.

"Colson Delacourt asked me to preread the book he's writing."

Harper met Luis's eyes. "Oh, yeah? How'd that happen?"

"It was a while ago. I guess I forgot to mention it." Luis gave David some of the squeeze yogurt. "David and I were sitting here, and he showed up one day and started talking to us. I was rereading one of his books, and he said he'd need someone familiar with his work to look through the book he's currently writing to see if the new angle worked. Of course I jumped at the chance."

"So you've been doing it for a while now?"

"Yeah. He sends me chapters, and I give him feedback. Not gonna lie, it's pretty cool."

"I'm sure." Harper had read some of the critical reviews of Colson's work, and they were impressive. "You never mentioned you worked for me?"

"No. Why would I?" Luis moved David out of the shifting angle of the sun and into the shade. "He mentioned the break-in, but I wanted him and me to be strictly about the book. This one's a lot different than his other two."

"You said he had a new angle?" Harper asked. "He writes gruesome books about murders. What could be new?"

"Yeah, but now he's trying to put a romance in the book." Luis's grin threatened to overtake his face. "Between the detective, Harrison Rosa, and the Chief of Forensics, Calvin Diller. Notice anything about those names?"

Yeah, it was about as subtle as a brick to his face. Which Harper felt he'd been hit with the more he listened to Luis.

"Harrison Rosa is a grumpy detective, annoyed at the world and completely closed off. He's focused solely on his career to the detriment of anything and anyone else. Calvin Diller is a guy who's been burned in relationships. They're thrown together because of a series of murders, and the more time they spend with each other, piecing the case together, the greater the attraction grows."

"Fascinating." Harper pretended disinterest. "Hopefully he doesn't have them doing anything inappropriate in the precinct. Too clichéd."

Ignoring him, Luis continued. "I got the newest chapter this week. Calvin's got a problem. Years earlier, his parents kicked him out because he's gay, but he gets a call that his mother's sick, and he doesn't know if he should go see her or not because they're in the thick of the investigation."

Shit . That must've been the call Colson had gotten the night they were together. Shock rippled through him, and this time he was unable to conceal his concern. Luis, who noticed everything, slapped his thigh and cackled.

"I knew it. Don't think you can hide it from me anymore. You've been seeing Colson Delacourt, and it has nothing to do with his break-in. Admit it."

He couldn't lie to Luis. He lifted a shoulder. "Uh, well, I don't know if you'd call it seeing each other, but…yeah. We've been together." He chewed the inside of his cheek. "But it's over, so it doesn't matter."

Was it truth or fiction that Colson's mother was ill? Should he reach out, just to see if Colson was all right? Despite their estrangement, whatever news he'd received must've been devastating. It pained Harper to know Colson was hurting and had asked to talk, and Harper had remained a ghost to him. God, he really was a shit human.

"Why? What happened?" Luis prodded him. "He's a nice guy. I think you two could be good together. He's not like Ronnie."

Guilt made him snappish. "How do you know? Because he was kind to you and David a few times?"

"That's more than most people," Luis said softly. "And I'd think after all the years we've known each other, you'd know I was a better judge of character than that."

Rightfully shamed, Harper hung his head. "I'm sorry. I know you are."

"But…you're confused. Or is it something else?"

He so didn't want to talk about this.

"Something else? Like what?"

"That's on you to figure out."

Enough of the guessing game. "It's getting late. Don't you think we should get David home?"

Luis finished his soda. "It's barely six. You have someplace to be later?"

Yeah. Talking to Colson, but Luis didn't need to know that. "No. But you know David has his routine."

"Eh, David's enjoying himself. You're here, and he gets to see the kids playing. I think it's all good."

Dammit . Not that he didn't want to be with David, but he had a lot to explain to Colson, and he had to be in early the next morning. "I need to do something. It won't take long. Can you stay with David for about an hour?"

"I've got the whole night. You know I don't stand on regular hours. I enjoy my time with you guys. When you need me, I'm there."

Luis was the rock of their unit. Harper needed him as much as David did.

"Thanks." He crouched by David's chair. "Hey, buddy. I gotta go for a few, but I won't be long. Is that okay?"

David's fingers twitched. His type of paralysis—a C6 spinal cord injury—allowed for limited movement of his arms and shoulders, some of which the doctors tried to tell him were involuntary, but Harper refused to believe were anything but David wanting the reassurance of touch. He placed his hand over David's and squeezed.

"I love you." He kissed David's cheek and readjusted his baseball cap. "I won't be long."

"I'm gonna make a baked ziti tonight. And we have ice pops for dessert. Cherry."

"Yum, right, David?"

David licked his lips and made humming sounds. He left them and walked to Willow Street and up the steps to Colson's town house. He knocked on the door several times and rang the bell, but no one answered. Knowing Colson had a video camera monitoring the entrance, Harper gazed directly into the lens and waved, then pointed to the door and knocked a second time.

Radio silence.

Well, looks like I fucked it up.

"Detective? Oh, Detective Rose!"

Bracing himself, Harper turned. Millie Johnson was waving to him from her stoop. While the last thing he wanted was to talk to the gregarious lady, he couldn't ignore her. He schooled his face in a pleasant expression and crossed the street.

"Good evening. How are you? No more feeling as if strangers are watching you, I hope." He stayed at street level, hoping against hope the conversation would be quick.

He should've known better.

"Come in. I have brownies. Just out of the oven."

"Oh, no, I can't. I have to get home."

"You were going to spend time with Colson, but he's gone. So now you can have a little visit with me."

Damn she was sharp. Objecting was futile, and Harper heaved a sigh and trudged up the wide steps of the brownstone, again admiring the beautiful interior.

"How long have you lived here, Ms. Johnson?"

"Please. You must call me Millie. And I bought the house in 1965 for a laughable amount. It wasn't the hot spot it is now, but Brooklyn Heights has always been home to bohemians and entertainers. The creatives. Did you know Truman Capote lived just down the block? The poet, W.H. Auden had a home on Montague Street. And Norman Mailer lived on the next block, Columbia Heights."

"Yes, lots of authors and artists." He stood in the kitchen. "You said Colson was gone? Did he go out for the day?"

"He stopped by to ask if I needed him to get anything for me before he left. He's such a nice man, always thinking of others." She set a cup of coffee on the island with the plate of brownies. "Come and sit."

Unable to refuse, Harper did as told and pulled out a stool. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Well, no." She thought for a moment. "He said he'd be gone for a few days but couldn't be sure."

He sipped the coffee. "Did he happen to tell you where he was going?"

Millie peered at him over her reading glasses. "Detective, is there a problem with Colson? Are you investigating him?"

He drummed his fingers on the island. "Well, no," he admitted. "His case has been closed."

A twinkle lit her eyes. "Then I'll assume this is personal."

Jesus, she should be on the force, the way she so smoothly picked him apart. "Uh, I don't—"

"Detective. You shared the intimate details of a life I think has made you a hard man. But from our meetings, I can tell you're also a good person. And very kind."

His lips twitched. "Now I think you're trying to butter me up, but for the life of me, I can't figure out why."

She didn't join his smile with one of her own. "I'm an old lady. I know you have much better things to do on your day off than sit here and waste your very limited free time with me. So that speaks to your integrity." She clasped her hands. "Life is very short. One minute you're young and beautiful; then you blink and you're alone. In the dark. Dependent on others to do what once came naturally. No one to talk to except the memories in your head. We're all here for a moment in time. Don't waste one precious second."

He stared into the depths of his coffee cup. "I'm not…I have responsibilities I can't ignore."

"Your first responsibility is to yourself."

"No." His hand clenched into a fist. "It's not." His voice quavered. "I told you about my brother."

"Yes, but taking care of him to the detriment of yourself isn't helping either one of you. You may end up resenting him."

"Never," he lashed out. "I love him. Everything I do is to make sure he knows he's safe, and I don't think of him as a burden." He rubbed shaky hands over his face and gentled his tone. It wasn't Millie's fault. "So you understand now."

She cocked her head. "No, I'm afraid I don't see what your brother's tragic story has to do with you. And Colson."

"David has to come first. And people don't want to be with someone whose focus isn't on them, but it's okay. I'm used to it."

"But Colson isn't like that. He's caring. Which you already know—it's that sense you have about people that helps you in your work. I'm certain you don't believe Colson would be cruel. It's why you keep coming back to see him."

"I thought…maybe he was different. But I need to straighten out some things with him."

Millie bit her lip. "Well…he didn't tell me not to say anything. He went to Connecticut. He received a call that his mother was ill, and after some soul-searching, he made the decision to go."

So he'd been correct in thinking Colson had injected his real life into his novel. "Thank you." He checked his watch. "I should get going."

"Please don't give up," Millie implored. "I think you might find what you're looking for." An impish smile curved her lips. "Or in this case, who."

She walked him to the front door, and he stooped to kiss her cheek. "Thank you. And I hope you know you're not alone. Make sure you lock the door when I leave."

"You're so concerned with making sure your brother knows he's loved, who watches out for you? Good night, Detective."

He waited to hear the click of the bolt, then descended the stairs and headed toward home. Millie's words hit him harder than he'd thought, and as he walked through the streets, he wrestled with his conscience.

What did he want? The answer was obvious. Colson. But was it for more than what they'd had before he'd screwed it up? He waited at a red light, staring into the windows of the café at the corner. All the people enjoying their dinner and drinks. Happy people, laughing, holding hands…he'd ignored it all for years after Ronnie, convincing himself that his focus needed to be on David and making sure he was safe. He watched a couple lean in and kiss, and a jolt of yearning hit so hard, it left him breathless.

Would Colson understand him keeping David at home? He'd never forgotten the look in Ronnie's eyes when he'd met David for the first time. The shock. The fear. Harper couldn't take the chance of opening his heart and letting Colson in, if he'd only walk out.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, setting the mood for the tumult rising inside him. But according to Millie, being with Colson didn't have to mean putting David second. Having a relationship with Colson could be as important as loving his brother. His desire for Colson wasn't diminished by his love for David. Could they somehow share his heart?

Maybe Luis was right, and he was simply afraid of trying again and getting hurt. A faint smile crossed his lips. Some badass detective he was. He could chase down armed criminals in the dark, but telling someone he cared left him scared shitless.

Before he turned the corner to his block, he sent Colson a text.

I'm sorry I've been MIA. I've been trying to work some things out in my head. I know you went to see your mother. If you need to talk, call me.

He didn't expect Colson to answer. He put away the phone and joined his family for dinner. The baked ziti was a success, and he, Luis, and David decided to watch the original Star Trek television show from the beginning. By ten p.m., David was half-asleep. Harper waved Luis off.

"Go to bed. Thank you for everything."

"Did you see who you needed to see and get your head on straight?"

He thought for a minute about his conversation with Millie. "Yeah, I did. And I appreciate everything you said."

"No problem. You have to learn to recognize happiness sometimes. You've had it rough and let the past make you hard. It's time to show everyone the real Harper Rose. That man has a lot of love to give."

"How about you?" he asked Luis, aware the man spent most of his free time with David. "Are you happy? You know how important you are to me, and not just for what you do for David."

Luis nodded. "I know. But see, I had the love of my life. I'm not interested in that again. Don't worry, though, 'cause I get my share of attention and have my fun. So yeah. I'm happy. I've got good friends and a family right here."

"I love you, Luis. You know I couldn't do any of this without you."

They hugged. "Good thing is, you never will. You're stuck with me. Now lemme ask you something." Luis crossed his big arms and directed stern brown eyes at him. The man spent much of his free time working out and needed those muscles, carrying David and dealing with his wheelchair. "You make it right with Colson?"

He shrugged. "I'm trying. It's up to him now. Hopefully I didn't screw up too badly."

"I think if you explain everything to him and stop holding back, it'll work out."

He wasn't as confident as Luis, but he put up a good front. "I guess we'll see. I'm going to give David his bath. Thanks for the talk and advice."

"Anytime."

He took care of David and put him to bed.

"I love you. I've never regretted anything. Not one moment with you."

David made kissing noises and moved his mouth, and Harper cupped his cheek and pressed his lips to David's stubbly jaw. He turned on the monitor and flicked off the light.

"Sleep tight, buddy. I'll see you for breakfast."

Harper shut the door. The living room was silent, which meant Luis had gone down to his apartment. Harper got into bed and checked his messages, but there was nothing from Colson. He turned off the light, wondering if he'd screwed it all up. Colson had every right to say to hell with it and him and stay out of his life for good.