4. Harlan

4

HARLAN

As I soaped myself up and water dripped down my body, my mind drifted to the blonde I'd seen next door. Her body defied gravity. Her generous curves were branded on my subconscious. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Her hourglass figure was heavenly but gave me thoughts that would send me straight to hell.

But it wasn't just her body that captivated me. It was her radiance, her aura, her…everything. It was the way her hips moved when she walked. It was the graceful slope of her neck. It was her long golden hair that shimmered in the sunlight, and I just knew it would be silky to the touch. It was her upturned pixie nose that sat above her plump lips that I wanted wrapped around my cock.

I took myself in my hand and began to stroke up and down as I pictured her on her knees before me sucking me into her wet mouth. My fingers tightened their hold as I imagined her tongue licking my rock-hard shaft as her fingers dug into my hips to steady herself. Within just a few strokes, I brought myself to completion and came in a jarring release.

As the tension rolled from my body, I lowered my head, dipping it beneath the water cascading above me as I caught my breath, breathing in the fresh air. There were benefits to living out in the country. One of them was that I could pleasure myself in the outdoors, where my only audience was the birds, cows, and horses. None of them gave a shit about me taking care of business.

I finished rinsing off and grabbed a towel as I stalked back to the house. I had a few hours before I had to parade myself in front of a room filled with the entire town of Firefly Island, and I still had some emails to send off and bills to pay.

The screen door bounced away from the frame once before shutting as I entered the kitchen and found my grandad, where he spent ninety percent of his waking hours, posted at the kitchen table with a mug in one hand and a paper in the other.

"Hey, Grandad! You ready for tonight? I laid out your suit."

"I'm not gonna dress like a penguin."

"It's not a tux. Just your suit."

"I don't even want to go to the damn thing."

"Okay, then don't." I wasn't going to twist his arm. Hell, I didn't want to go either.

Grandad mumbled something unintelligible under his breath as he tossed some papers across the kitchen table at me.

"What's this?"

"That damn developer."

I picked up the mail and read a letter amending a previous offer A.C.F. Holdings had given Grandad for the land. They had upped their starting number by twenty thousand. I would ask if he was considering the sale, but Grandad had made his feelings pretty clear on the matter of selling the farm. So unless hell had in fact frozen over, pigs had suddenly sprung wings and were flying, and the developer was able to pry the deed from his cold dead hands, a sale was not going to happen.

Technically, I had as much say in whether or not to sell as Grandad did. When Meemaw passed, I inherited the second mortgage she'd taken out on the property and the debt she'd incurred. It seemed for nearly ten years she'd been borrowing from Peter to pay Paul. Grandad didn't want anything to do with the finances, so I'd stepped in, and he'd signed over his rights to the property. Not that it mattered. I would never do anything against his wishes.

There was a knock on the door, and Grandad slammed his coffee cup down on the table. The liquid sloshed over the rim onto his mail. "It better not be that damn developer sniffing around," he grunted as he struggled to stand and began coughing.

"I got it, Grandad." I patted him on the arm as he lowered back into his chair.

He waved his hand at me. "You can't answer the door like that."

I had forgotten that I was only wearing a towel. Another knock came as I ducked into the laundry room on the way to the front door and grabbed my last clean pair of sweats from the dryer.

"Coming!" I called out as I walked down the hall. On my way, I noticed that the unevenness in the floor was worse than it was just last week as a board creaked loudly beneath my bare feet. I knew that the foundation had to be fixed sooner rather than later, but I'd just finished repairing the roof and the irrigation for the backfield. This farmhouse was over a hundred years old, and it seemed every time I got one issue under control, another popped up. It was like I was playing a never-ending game of Whac-A-Mole.

My mind was racing with ways to come up with the tens of thousands of dollars I was sure the foundation would cost me when I opened the door. All of my thoughts evaporated when I saw who was standing on my porch.

It was the girl from my dream this morning. The angel from next door.

I would have thought it was impossible, but she was even more stunning, even more potent up close. Her beauty was celestial and unmatched by any other human being I'd ever seen. Huge ocean blue eyes were peering up beneath a row of dark, thick lashes. As soon as our eyes met, an electrical current ran from the top of my head all the way down to my toes. Just like the first time I'd seen her, I forgot where I was, what I was doing, how to speak, and even breathe.

"Hi! Sorry, my, um…my aunt said…um…she's yours?"

It was only then that I noticed she was holding Dini in her hands, cradled against her chest. Growing up on the farm, all of my animals had been rescues, and they were all outdoor pets. Dini was the only cat I'd adopted. I was walking around the Historic District, and there was an adoption fair. Dini managed to escape from her cage and ended up at my feet staring up at me with big brown eyes. She might be a teacup calico cat, but she had the puppy dog eyes of a basset hound, and they worked that day. I'd known from the second we locked eyes that she was mine.

It was the same sensation that I felt when I'd just looked into the sky-blue eyes of the fair-haired goddess on my porch. My gaze lifted again, and I found myself drowning in the endless pools of her mesmerizing stare.

"Is she yours?" she asked.

The question snapped me out of the spell that I'd fallen under. What the fuck was wrong with me? Had I seriously forgotten how to speak to a woman I was attracted to?

Apparently.

I blinked and cleared my throat. "Sorry, yeah."

I reached out to take Dini, and when I did, her hair fell over the back of my hand, and my suspicion was confirmed. Her strands were as soft as spun silk, and just the slightest brush sent tingles spreading through me like a shot of whiskey. Then, her hand grazed mine, and the velvety smoothness of her skin sent shock waves rioting through me.

I felt like I was the Operation gameboard, and whenever she touched me, it caused a buzzing sensation. She must have felt something too, because the moment her hand touched mine, she stilled and sucked in a breath. Our eyes were locked, and the air between us crackled with awareness.

Time ceased to exist. I wasn't sure how long we stayed frozen in that moment—a minute maybe—before she blinked and the bubble that we'd been floating in burst.

Dini meowed as I pulled her into my arms.

"Thanks, um, for bringing her back. And tell Miss Rhonda I'm sorry."

A smile appeared on her lips as she dipped her chin in a nod. "What's her name?"

"Dini. It's short for Houdini, because she's an escape artist."

Her smile widened, and something broke open in my chest. It was as if a dam burst, and I was flooded with an emotion I couldn't name. I was trying to pull my shit together when her eyes narrowed slightly, and she tilted her head to the side.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

Remember her? No. But how could I have possibly forgotten her?

"I'm Daphne. I spent a few summers here when I was young. Like really young. The last time I was here was when I was ten; it was the summer of the flash flood."

"Daphne, right?" I only knew that was her name because Weston had said so. To be honest, I didn't remember her visit. But then again, the summer of the flood was the summer I lost my dad. That time in my life was a little bit of a blur.

She smiled wider. "And you're Harlan."

"I am."

Grandad's cane thudded in the hallway behind me, and I knew that he was approaching the door. "Is it those damn developers?! Tell them they can take their deal and stick it where the sun don't shine!"

"No, it's not the developers. It's Mrs. Moore's granddaughter, Daphne. Daphne, this is?—"

"Holy Moses!" Grandad shouldered his way past me and stepped onto the porch. He clutched his chest as he stood in front of Daphne. "You are the spitting image of Estelle. I feel like I've just stepped into a time machine."

Daphne smiled, clearly happy with the comparison to her grandmother.

Grandad continued to stare at her for so long it was starting to get uncomfortable, so I said, "Well, thanks for bringing Dini hom?—"

"You know, when I was a boy, I had a crush on your grandmother," Grandad interrupted me. "I was sweet on her long before your grandfather came into the picture."

That was news to me. I knew that Grandad was sad when Mrs. Moore passed, but I just figured it was because they'd lived next door to each other for so long, and it was so close to when we lost Meemaw.

"I remember the first time I saw her, I was knee-high to a grasshopper, and I thought she was the prettiest thing this side of the Mississippi."

"She was beautiful." Daphne smiled sweetly. "She's actually the reason I'm in town. She's being honored tonight at the?—"

"Oh, I know! I wouldn't miss it! Got my suit all laid out and everything," he beamed proudly.

Well, that was a one-eighty.

"Oh good, well…" Daphne looked between my grandad and me. "I guess I'll see you tonight."

"See you tonight." I lifted my hand in a wave.

Grandad and I watched Daphne walk back next door. I tried to keep my eyes from dipping to the sway of her hips, but I was only human. When she was out of sight, Grandad turned to head back into the house.

"You never told me that you had a thing for Mrs. Moore."

"Well, it was before I met your meemaw," he responded in his trademark surliness as he pushed past me. As he did, I noticed that tears had pooled in his lower lids. Grandad lifted his hand and wiped beneath his eyes as he sniffed.

In all my thirty-one years, I'd never seen my grandad cry.

"I miss her, too." Grandad didn't talk about Meemaw often, so I figured the conversation was over, and I was surprised when he paused at the end of the hall.

"I loved your meemaw somethin' fierce. I didn't tell her enough. But I tell you what, son; if I had it all to do over again, I'd tell her every day what she meant to me. When you love someone, keeping it to yourself doesn't do anyone any good."

With that pearl of wisdom dropped, he continued on down the hall. I stared after him in shock for two reasons. First, my grandad never talked about his feelings, so hearing him say that he missed Meemaw and wished he'd told her he loved her more, was new to me. And two, before Meemaw, he'd had a thing for Mrs. Moore. And I had a feeling history was about to repeat itself.