4. Harper

4

HARPER

"Harper!" Luna rushed over, dancing from foot to foot in her red, oversized clerk vest. Her brown hair swung from side to side down her back, and the pinched expression on her face nearly had me bursting out laughing. "Can you switch lunch shifts with me?"

"I've been here since six," I groaned.

"I know, I know, but I really need to pee."

I ran another item across the scanner and smiled at Mrs. Mallard so she didn't get angry and swing her walking stick at me. She wasn't known to be the nicest woman in the world.

"You can take a bathroom break without taking your lunch break," I hissed.

"Okay, fine. Jake said he would stop by on his lunch break, and his lunch break is during your lunch break. You know how much I like him!"

"Alright, fine," I groaned. Anything to get her to stop talking. I didn't really care about her latest obsession. Jake rode a motorcycle, which was her thrill of the month. Last month, it was men who wore spandex.

She rushed around the belt and flung her arms around my neck, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I grimaced, wiping it off as soon as she backed up. "You're the best. I promise, you won't regret this."

"I already do," I said as she turned and ran away.

Mrs. Mallard had her lips pursed, looking like she was about to scold me, which was ridiculous since I was the one who was trying to remain professional at my minimum wage job.

Being a cashier at the local IGA was hardly my dream job. No, when I was a kid, I had aspirations to become the first woman on the Supreme Court. When I found out from my brother Oliver that the position had already been filled, I quickly abandoned those dreams.

"Twenty-seven dollars and thirteen cents," I told her.

As usual, her face fell aghast at the price. "How much?"

"Mrs. Mallard, it's the same price it was last week and the week before that."

She pulled out her cash and handed it over. "Well, I never!"

Rolling my eyes, I made change and handed her the receipt. "You're welcome to take it up with management, but that didn't work so well the last three times you tried."

She ripped the receipt out of my hands and held out her wallet for the change. I could have dropped it on the conveyor, but I wasn't that mean. I dumped it into the pocket of her wallet and smiled cheerily as she walked out.

Sighing, I grabbed my drink and took a long sip as I leaned on the conveyor belt. This day was going to take forever, just like yesterday and the day before that. I could see my manager in his office right now, talking on the phone and laughing. I knew he wasn't actually working. Raymond didn't have a working bone in his body. He was probably making plans for the night, which most likely consisted of taking his new girlfriend Sheila out.

As the minutes ticked by, I waited on the various customers that filtered into the store. The beeping of the scanner on the belt lulled me into a state of constant boredom. I yawned repeatedly, wishing I could crawl back into my bed for the day and take a long nap. I hated waking up early for work, but it was better than working until close.

"Oh my gosh!" Luna squealed, rushing over to me a few hours later. "You would not believe what Jake said. "

"Something about taking you out on a date."

"How did you know?" Her face lit up with happiness as she gushed about where he was going to take her and how amazing it was going to be. I hated to tell her that life was not a fairytale. As much as she hoped Prince Charming would sweep her off her feet, it was more likely he would drop her in the mud and make her get out on her own.

"Well, he sounds fantastic," I beamed, trying to show as much enthusiasm as I could.

"I know, right? God, he's so amazing."

"So were Sam and Ron," I reminded her.

"Don't even bring them up. I was delusional."

"You still are."

"But you love me anyway." She leaned in again and pressed a kiss to my cheek. It didn't matter how many times I told her not to do that, she continued to act like I was her fur baby and she had to snuggle me as much as possible.

"Go to your register. You're getting a line."

"Yeah, like they're desperate to get out of here."

"They are. It's a grocery store. Nobody wants to wait in line."

She giggled as she rushed off. I loved her dearly, but she was such a flake sometimes. I rang up three more people before I caught a scent that had me stiffening. It was something I remembered from my childhood and was used to smelling around here, but it was mixed with something else—something very masculine and?—

I looked up and nearly swallowed my tongue. A very handsome man was standing in front of me, staring at his phone. And since he wasn't watching me, I took the opportunity to check out every delicious inch of him. Tall, muscular, and nearly every inch of him covered in tattoos, I knew I was a goner. His brown eyes were darker than his skin, but not by much. Thick, luscious lips quirked into a grin as he answered a text. I was so tempted to lean across the conveyor belt and kiss him, but that would be frowned upon.

Right?

Suddenly, he looked up at me and I knew I was caught. His chocolate eyes melted me on the spot. I felt myself sinking into their depths as I imagined all the beautiful children we would have and what kind of house we would live in. I would, of course, have to stop working at the IGA so I could stay home and take care of the kids. And at night, he would wrap me in his arms and make passionate love to me.

"Is everything okay?"

"Huh?" I asked, shaking my head slightly.

"You were staring."

"I…was." This was so stupid. I should just tell him I liked him and wanted to go on a date. Other women were confident enough to do it. Why couldn't I? "You're handsome," I said, holding my head high.

A smile tilted his lips. "Thank you. You're very beautiful."

I blushed a dark shade of red and ducked my head. "Well, thank you. I'm normally not this forward, but would you like to have dinner tonight?"

"That's my line," he grinned, resting his arm on the little counter for writing checks.

"Yes, but I asked first."

"You're not going to make me split the check, are you? I'm not a cheap date."

"I'll pay."

"Good. I like a woman who sticks to her guns."

Feeling confident, I leaned forward and scribbled my name and number on his arm. "I get off at three."

"I'll have you off by five."

I snorted in laughter, then blushed furiously. "It's a date."

I couldn't stop staring at him. He was just so gorgeous. Ideas of where we would go on our first date flitted through my mind, building memories to last a lifetime. It was perfect. And as Careless Whisper played over the loudspeaker in the store, I knew this was meant to be?—

"Ma'am."

I shook my head, lost in my thoughts as I stared at the man in front of me. While I was dreaming of our first date and how romantic it would be, he was waiting for me to scan his groceries.

"Ma'am, is everything okay?"

"Uh…" Shit! He was staring at me like I was an idiot. "Perfectly fine. I was just…thinking of my plans for later tonight. "

"Do they include me?" Yep, that's what he said in my head, but in reality, he said, "Must be some big plans."

"Not really. I'll probably go home and drown myself in a can of beans."

He looked up at me funnily.

"Because beans are thick and the liquid would make it easy to suffocate."

And that got me an even weirder look.

"Not that I'm suicidal. I'm not at all. I mean, this job sucks, but it's not worth taking my life over."

"Well…that's good to know."

I nodded, still staring at him.

"Can I just check out?"

"Oh! Right." I laughed, smacking myself on the forehead as I rang up his items. "Forty dollars and thirty-eight cents."

He thumbed through his wallet, sighing heavily. "Shit, I left my cash in the truck."

"Oh. Well, that's okay. Your groceries are on me."

His face pinched in confusion or distrust. Either way, it was not the look I was expecting.

"I'll be right back. My truck is right outside."

"Sure! Take your time." As he turned and walked away, I flopped down on the conveyor and groaned. Why did I have to daydream right in the middle of ringing him up? And why had I offered to buy his groceries? I could barely afford my own! I was so stupid.

"He's coming back," someone whispered.

I popped upright and smiled brightly as he handed over his cash. When I handed him his change, he nodded politely. "Have a magical day!"

His footsteps stalled for a moment as he glanced over his shoulder and looked at me, then hurried to the door. This time, I sank to the floor in a puddle like a melting ice cream cone on a hot day.

"Oh my God! What was I thinking?"

"It's okay," the woman in line said. "I'm sure he was charmed by your…um…personality."

I scrubbed my hands over my face and groaned. "I have no personality! Unless you mean a complete spastic nut job! I stared at him while I was daydreaming about him!"

"Was it a good daydream?" the woman asked.

"He asked what time I got off. I said three and he said he would have me off by five."

"Wow. You know, when I meet a man, I usually daydream about him carrying my groceries or cutting my grass."

I shot her a glare, then pushed to my feet as my manager came storming over. The woman quickly schooled her features and pretended I was checking her out as I started scanning, not even paying attention to what I was doing. I was so nervous.

"Harper, what are you doing? This isn't your break."

"I'm so sorry. I was…"

"I dropped my nail on the floor. She was looking for it," the woman intervened, smiling at my boss.

"You dropped your nail? By the cash register?"

"The darn thing just flew off my finger."

"And where is this nail?"

"Uh…I wasn't able to find it."

The woman, thank God she was a quick thinker, yanked off her fake nail and showed the manager her now bleeding finger from where the fake nail tore her real nail too low.

Angry that he couldn't find something to fire me over, he stormed away. I breathed a sigh of relief, then grabbed some paper towels and wrapped the woman's finger. "You just saved my life."

"Women have to stick together. What that man needs is a good blow job."

I looked up in surprise. "I thought you daydreamed of men cutting your grass?"

"Honey, men think with their penises. Women think about chores getting done."

I laughed and rang her up, giving her every discount I could think of for her help. "Well, I'm still in the stage of my life where I think about penises."

She grabbed her bags and glanced at me one last time. "Find a husband and that will change really fast."

I walked through the front door and saw Oliver sitting in his favorite recliner, drinking a beer. We got this house after my parents died, and Oliver had no desire to change a single thing. Old photos still hung on the walls, my dad's cigarette tray was still on the table between the two recliners, and the same floral valances hung above the windows.

It was an awful throwback to the 90's.

"Hey, shorty," I said, flopping down in the other recliner.

He snorted and drank his beer. He was at least six foot three, but when we were kids, I was taller than him. "Get in any trouble today?"

"You mean, did my boss fire me? No, but he really wanted to."

"What did you do this time?"

"I may have been daydreaming."

He turned and smirked at me. "What about this time?"

I sighed, thinking of the man with the gorgeous features and tattooed arms.

"Great," he shook his head, reading my thoughts. "Get him out of your head right now. You're not bringing him home."

"I never said I was."

"You didn't have to. I've seen that look a million times before. You get it in your head that some guy is your savior and he's going to rescue you from your tower."

I stuck my tongue out at him, hating that he knew me so well. "I know I'm not in a tower. And I don't need saving, but it would be nice if I had a gentleman caller other than Mr. Leatherman."

"But he's so grateful when you bring in his garbage cans," he chuckled.

I picked up the ashtray and would have thrown it at him if it weren't for the fact that it was my father's. "You know, one of these days, I'm going to find a hot, sexy man and bring him home. And we're going to get married, have tons of babies, and you're gonna look like a fool!"

"Ooh, I'm really scared," he chuckled. He crushed the beer can and leaned back in his chair, groaning loudly. "I need a day off. "

"So take one."

"Can't. We've got bills to pay."

He could afford to take a day off. He just didn't want to. Neither of us did. We both worked low-paying jobs, and despite saving all the money we could, we were both well aware that if one of us got sick or injured, it would severely dent our savings. Ollie worked too hard and his days at the auto shop were grueling. By comparison, what I did was a dream job. "What about that other shop in town? Did you check with them?"

He shrugged. "Not sure I want to."

"Why? You're a good mechanic."

"I've been working for Zach for ten years. It feels wrong to leave him."

"Ollie, it's nice to feel that way, but he takes advantage of you. You work every weekend while he recovers from his latest hangover."

"His wife died?—"

"Seven years ago. Enough's enough."

The look on his face said it all. He hated to let anyone down, and Zach was one man he would never consider leaving. But things were going to have to change. I took every shift possible, and so did Oliver. We were tired and needed a break. Or an intervention.

"I'm going to take a shower. I smell like a supermarket vest."

"I hate to tell you, but a shower won't help."

This time, I launched a throw pillow at him, hitting him on the head. "Ow! That hurt!"

"It did not, you big baby!"

I went down the hall to my room and shut the door, flopping down on the bed. Before I knew it, I was sawing logs, and I hadn't even taken my shower yet.

His breath coated the skin at the back of my neck. His erection pressed against me as he drew me into the curve of his body. I could feel every hard muscle, taste the salt on his skin, and trace every single tattoo that wrapped its way around his arm, tangling with my own.

"I'll have you off in five," he grumbled in my ear.

Moaning, I turned in his arms, meeting his hard kiss with one of my own. I couldn't tell where his body ended and mine began. We were a tangle of limbs and skin. The sweat between our bodies only succeeded in joining us fully. There was nothing quite like the feel of him taking control of me.

"Seriously? I live in the same house as you."

I woke with a gasp, feeling the wetness between my legs as I stared at my brother. I grimaced, pulling the covers over my body. "What are you doing in here?"

"I could hear you moaning down the hall. We're going to have a serious talk about when it's an appropriate time to get off when I'm in the house."

"I was asleep. And I didn't get off," I grumbled, unhappy with the outcome of the dream.

"You need a boyfriend."

I stuck my tongue out at him and got up from the bed. "What I need is to get laid."

I felt him stiffen as I walked past him. "Not unless I meet him first."

I rolled my eyes, heading to the kitchen. I was starving. "I don't need your approval to find a man to sleep with."

"I'm your brother. It's my job to take care of you."

"Oh, please. I don't remember you saying that when I was dating Marcus."

"Marcus wore glasses and a bow tie."

"Do you have something against men who wear glasses?"

"No, but definitely against bow ties. It was pretty damn clear nothing was going to happen."

"Something might have happened," I said, narrowing my eyes at my judgmental brother.

"Right," he snorted. "The guy fumbled his words and could barely hold your hand without using hand sanitizer first."

"He was a clean person."

"He was spastic at best. When he met me for the first time, he almost puked, and all I did was say hi."

Okay, Oliver might be right about Marcus, but he wasn't a bad guy. He was nervous and I found that endearing. Right up until I realized it was never going to get any better, no matter how many times I went out with him.

"I'm going out to the bar tonight. "

"Ha!" he laughed. "Yeah, that's a good one."

"I'm serious. I am."

"Okay, then I'm going with you."

"To vag-block me? I don't think so."

His face scrunched up as his face paled. "Please don't ever say that again."

"Vag-block? What's wrong with it? Have a problem hearing about my vagina? What about pussy? Does that bother you too?"

He slammed his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes closed. "La-la-la-la-la! I can't hear you!"

A devious idea rolled around in my head and I took off, tackling him to the ground when he was most vulnerable. Sitting on top of him, I grabbed his wrists and tore them away from his ears. "Vagina, vagina, vagina!"

He shoved me off him, flinging me into the coffee table. I laughed hysterically, even though my shoulder caught the edge. He scrambled to his feet, rushing to get away from me. It was too easy to tease him.

"You're the devil!" he said, jabbing his finger in my direction.

"Yet, you walked into my room and woke me from a fantastic dream."

"Seriously, Harper. I can't take it! Find a husband and move out so my ears will stop bleeding."

"That's the plan. Maybe I'll meet Mr. Charming tonight."

"Prince Charming. And you'd better be wearing a chastity belt."

"I think I might go commando."

His face turned red and he stomped out of the house, refusing to hear any more.