Jilted in January (5 page)

“Well, I was hoping maybe you would go to see him.
He feels terrible about what happened, and maybe if you…”

“No, Mrs. Dawson. I’m sorry. I’m not going to see him. He knows where I live and he knows my numbers.”

“But don’t you want to work this all out?”

Harper hated to be rude, especially since Brad’s mother had always been very kind to her, but this conversation was getting a bit surreal. She opened the front door, a not
-so-subtle hint for Mrs. Dawson to leave. “As far as I’m concerned, it is worked out. The wedding is off, the engagement is over, the relationship is done. If Brad wants to change that, like I said, he knows where to find me.”

For a moment Mrs. Dawson seemed stunned by Harper’s vehemence, then her shoulders slumped and
she headed for the porch. “I hope you’ll reconsider. I think if you just—”

“No. I’m done being the one to just do anything. It’s Bradley’s move.”

Mrs. Dawson nodded and shuffled out onto the porch. “I am sorry, Harper. I do feel terrible about what happened.”

Once again, Harper cut herself off before she said what she really wanted to say. Yelling at Brad’s mother wouldn’t do any good. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming over to talk to me.”

The woman left, and Harper took a moment took a moment to breathe deeply as she watched her pull away. After a few minutes her cheeks were tight from the cold, but her head was clear.

So she’d turned down dinner last night
. Maybe Grant was available for lunch.

* * * *

“I’d love to book TF for the party, but unless we start showing some real profits, the place is going to be on the chopping block by March.” Grant hated to admit this, but as much as he believed he could turn things around financially for the catering hall, he didn’t want to disappoint his friends.

Through the phone, Owen DeWitt sighed. “I don’t think anybody’s going to care where we have it. All that really matters is
, James will be back. Two years in the Middle East is a damn long time. He won’t care if we have his welcome home party in my garage as long as he gets to see everyone.”

“So it’s definite
, his tour will be up at the end of November?” Grant hadn’t seen his college roommate in more than five years, and his phone calls and letters home had gotten fewer and farther between since his assignment to a war zone. After a year of academics, James had joined the army, and he’d been all over the world in the last few years, culminating in a stint in Iraq. Having him finally home would be great, even if it was still almost a year away.

“Well, you know the army, but supposedly he has it in writing. I figure we’ve got plenty of time to put together something awesome.”

“Do me a favor, you see his parents once in a while, right? Ask them what they’d like to do, and I’ll pencil it in any day they want. If the place ends up getting sold, I’ll find a new place to hold the party.”

A soft knock on Grant’s office door interrupted him. “Hold on, come in!”

Harper entered, looking adorable in a baggy sweatshirt, her hair in a girlish ponytail. Grant broke into a wide grin. “I’ve got to go, Owen. Someone’s here. Call me with a date
, and we’ll make it work.”

“Will do, man. Thanks.” Owen hung up
, and Grant rose from his desk, still grinning.

“You look happy,” Harper said. “You have a date?” She winked.

Grant laughed. “I wish. No, that was my friend Owen. He just told me our friend James is coming home from the army at the end of the year. We want to plan a welcome home party. I know it’s early yet, but he’s been gone a long time. We miss him.”

“That’s awesome. He’s lucky to have a couple of friends like you.”

“We’re lucky. James is a great guy.” Grant fished his keys out of his pocket. “I guess you’re here for your samples.”

Harper sighed as she followed him out of the office and down the darkened hall toward the ball room. “I’m going to take them to the hospital. If the
y don’t need them for the lobby, Audrey can find patients who need some cheering up.”

“She works at the hospital?”

“She’s a nurse.”

“What do you do? I mean, besides flowers.”

“I work in the exciting field of payroll in an accounting firm.”

“You don’t sound all at excited about it.” Grant moved to open the ballroom door, but a sound caught his attention. He couldn’t quite place it.

“It’s fine. The company is nice, and I like my boss, but…you know. It’s paperwork all day. I like to get out now and—”

“Shhh.” Grant held up a hand. The sound was definitely out of place. It seemed to echo in the hallway
, and he couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.

“
Huh?”

“I’m sorry, I hear something. Do you hear that?”

She tilted her head and listened too. After a moment, she shrugged. “What am I supposed to be hearing?”

Grant turned in a circle. “It sounds like water running, but I’m the only one here this morning. Nothing should be on.”

“The kitchen? Maybe someone left a sink on?” She met his gaze for a second, then he turned to head for the kitchen, her samples forgotten.

“Come on.” The sound got louder as the
y approached the kitchen, and by now Grant had a sinking feeling. Something wasn’t right. He hit the lights to illuminate TF’s gleaming stainless steel kitchen. A quick check of all the sinks turned up nothing, but the sound of running water was definitely louder. It led him to the basement access door. “Uh-oh.”

Harper was right behind him. “
Sounds like a leak.”

He
groaned. “Worse. It sounds like a broken pipe.” He pulled the door open, and the unmistakable whoosh of gushing water reached them.

“
Uh-oh,” Harper echoed.

“Stay up here. I’m going to go check it out.” He headed down the basement stairs, flicking on the light switch as he went. The dim overhead bulb didn’t illuminate much, but he could clearly see water on the basement floor. He cursed under his breath. Just what the place needed, water damage and a huge plumbing bill. The sound seemed to be coming from the far end of the basement, so he turned to head that way when he reached the bottom of the stairs. He’d taken three steps when a pop sounded over his head and ice cold water sprayed all over him.

Harper gasped at Grant’s shocked yell from below. Now the sound of rushing water was even louder
, and he was swearing up a storm. She raced down the stairs. “Are you okay? What happened?” Water from an overhead pipe hit her immediately, almost causing her to lose her balance on the stairs. She gasped at the cold and gripped the now-slippery banister to stop herself from careening into Grant who was making his way up. She almost landed in his arms.

“Two broken pipes, it looks like. They must have cracked during the deep freeze
, and now that they warmed up a little—poosh!”

“You’re soaked.”

“No kidding. So are you. Come on, let’s get upstairs. There’s a wrench in a tool box in the supply closet. I’m going to see if I can shut off the main valve. I can’t do it with my bare hands. Then I’ve got to call a plumber.”

Harper turned on the wet step but lost her footing
and slipped. Grant’s caught her ass in both hands to steady her. She raised a brow but said nothing.

“Easy there. This old wood is slick.” He hoisted her back up, but his hand didn’t leave the small of her back. Together they climbed up the rest of the staircase.

Back in the kitchen, she eyed him. His cotton button-down shirt was plastered to his body, showing off some well-defined pecs beneath the white T-shirt he wore underneath. His brown hair was dark and spiky, and water dripped off his long lashes. She must have been gaping at him because he looked confused.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” She shivered a little—not necessarily from the dousing of icy water, though. “You?”

He swiped the back of his hand across his brow, revealing a smudge of red on his palm. “Yeah. Just wet and mad.”

“No, you’re not okay. Look.” Harper grabbed his hand. The cut on his palm looked shallow, but it was still bleeding.

“Damn, I must have done that trying to turn the
shut-off valve. It’s rusted open.”

“When was your last tetanus shot?” She grabbed a towel from the nearby stack and wrapped his hand.

He resisted just a bit as she tugged him toward the nearest sink. “I thought your friend Audrey was the nurse.”

“
Where do you think I learned first aid? We need to clean this.”

“I need to call the plumber and get that valve shut before the whole basement floods.”

“Here.” She handed him her cell phone. “Dial with your good hand. My uncle’s a plumber. I’ll give you the number while I wash your hand. You must have a first-aid kit around here somewhere.”

“Supply closet, over there.”

She turned on warm water and thrust his hand under the faucet, then headed for the narrow closet next to the cellar door. Fortunately the first-aid kit was right up front. She grabbed it and opened it up on the counter. “Seven one six five five five one three four oh. His name is Mel, mention my name.”

“TF has a plumber,” he said, gingerly probing the cut.
He’d set her phone down.

“Well, obviously not a good one, right? Plus I can probably get you a discount, being as I sort of work for you.”

“You’re amazing. You’re a magician with flowers, and you know first aid
and
a good plumber.”

Harper brought antiseptic and
a thick bandage over to the sink. She shut off the water and patted Grant’s palm dry with a fresh towel. “You should see me amortize tax deductions. I’m incredible.”

“Yes, you are.” He met her gaze
, and she stilled. His eyes seemed to have gotten a little darker blue, a little deeper, as her fingers caressed his palm. Her wet skin tingled, and her heart beat a little faster. She grabbed the antiseptic to distract herself from the thought of going up on her tip toes to kiss him. This was all wrong. All wrong entirely.

“Ow!” The moment ended with Grant moaning about the stinging antiseptic she poured into his palm.

“Sorry. It’ll stop hurting in a minute.” She carefully wrapped his palm with the bandage and secured it with a couple of strips of tape. “There. Now, that tetanus shot?”

“Last year. I’m covered.”

“Good. We don’t want you getting lockjaw.”

“Does anyone really get that?”

“I’ll ask Audrey. Here.” She handed him her phone back. “Plumber.”

“Why don’t you call? I’m going back down with the wrench. I can’t let it keep running like that.” He gave her back the phone and headed for the closet. A second later, a huge wrench slung over his damp shoulder, he headed back downstairs.

Harper stared after him for a moment. She thought he looked good in his suit and tie, but like this, all wet and manly, injured, and tossing around a huge tool—he was beyond hot. She shook off the unprecedented wave of lust and concentrated on calling her uncle Mel. Now wasn’t the time to get all melty over the guy, but she wasn’t going to rule out the possibility of doing a little melting later on.

“You didn’t have to stay you know.” Grant set a cup of coffee on the counter in front of Harper. Her uncle, Mel Shaw, had just left after a grueling afternoon replacing two broken pipes, which thanks to her, weren’t going to cost TF a ridiculous amount of money.

The rental of the industrial fans they’d need to dry out the basement was another story
, though, and that meant he’d be back at the office first thing in the morning, making arrangements to repair or replace everything else in the basement that had gotten wet.

She breathed in the aromatic steam coming from her cup and smiled, closing her eyes. “I didn’t mind. Plus I got free lunch out of the deal.” She flipped closed the pizza box that sat between them on his desk. “How’s your hand?”

He glanced at the bandage, which hadn’t faired very well during his second bout with the rusted shut-off valve. It needed to be changed, and he wanted to ask her to do it—not because he didn’t know his way around a first-aid kit, but because he’d enjoyed having her soft hands on his skin and seeing the concern in her eyes. “It could use a little second aid, I guess.”

“
I’ll get the kit.”

“You don’t have to
,” he said, but he hoped she would.

“Audrey always says
follow-up is vitally important to good medical care. Come on.”

“Yes, nurse.” He followed her happily out of the office and back to the kitchen. While she cleaned his cut and rebandaged it, he looked her over. Her heavy sweatshirt was still damp, as were his clothes. Though it was warm in the building, the temperature outside had plummeted again. “You know, you shouldn’t go out in these clothes. You’re going to freeze.”

She plucked at her shirt. “My coat’s dry. I’ll be fine.”