The Strongest Steel (31 page)

She put her coffee cup down on the bistro table next to Joanie’s latest assignment, a synopsis of
Wuthering Heights
that Joanie had structured beautifully.

“I’m too old to be packing a bag for a sleepover, and I’ve seriously had enough of going commando at work because I don’t have any clean underwear to put on.” Trent smiled.

He was so damn attractive in plaid pajama bottoms and his naked chest. His tattoos looked stunning in the early sunlight. Harper studied his face. He was a good, strong, sincere man, and he wanted them to move forward. It was only natural. In any other circumstance, Harper would have felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

“Isn’t it a bit soon? I mean, we’ve only known each other a couple of months.” Was there a compromise to be reached? There was still so much going on in her head—a shrink would have a field day. If she moved in with him, Nathan would figure out where they lived, which would put Trent at risk. On the other hand, if she moved in with him, she’d definitely be safer. But all craziness aside, who moved in with their boyfriend after such a short period of time?

His hand reached around her neck and his thumb stroked her cheek softly. “More time will only prove what I already know, Harper, but if you’re not ready just say so.”

The expectant look on his face was almost more than she could bear. Why couldn’t this just be the happiest day of her life and be done with it? Trent raised an eyebrow at her. A silent “So?”

“I don’t know what to think, to be honest. The last couple of months have—what was it you said?—yeah, stood my world on its head. I’m just starting to find myself again. I have incredibly strong feelings for you, Trent.” Harper reached out her hand and placed it on his cheek. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

Trent leaned back in the chair, pulling away from her hand. He rubbed his hand along his morning-shadowed jaw.

“Maybe I should give you some space,” she said.

He slammed his cup down. Coffee splashed over the rim and puddled around the base. “What on earth gave you the idea I want space? I want you here. With me. All the time. I want to come home and hear the shower running and get excited because I know you’re in it. I want to struggle every morning to get up and go to the gym because I hate the idea of leaving your warm body behind in bed. I want to hear a key turn in the lock and feel contented knowing you’re home. I don’t want fucking space, Harper.”

Harper laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“I didn’t mean space. I meant
space,
like closet space, a drawer in the bedroom, part of the counter in the bathroom.”

Trent’s mouth twitched, a slight smile making its way to his lips.

“Like a compromise. A commitment that I want more. I seem to recall you telling me in the car about something being a step in the right direction to a goal we both agreed on. Well, I want all those things you just said, with you, eventually. And if we start to leave things at each other’s places, it’s a step, right?”

Trent reached up, flexing his delicious tattooed bicep, and scratched the side of his head. Without speaking, he leapt to his feet, grabbing Harper and pulling her into a fireman’s lift.

“Trent,” she squealed, kicking her feet to get free. “What are you doing?”

He slapped her butt playfully and laughed as he carried her down the hallway.

Reaching the bedroom, Trent threw her onto the bed. “We’re doing space. Today, right now.” He started pulling open his drawers, looking inside each one before pulling stuff out of the top drawer and dividing it between the others.

“Okay, this is for your underwear. I need to see bras, panties, and whatever other girly shit you have in here before the end of the day.”

Like a panther on the prowl, Trent launched himself at the bed, grabbing her ankle and pulling her to the edge of the bed before sweeping her into his arms to walk to the bathroom. He perched her on the corner of the vanity, where his stuff was spread across the two sinks.

“Pick one.”

“Pick one what?”

“Sink. Which do you want?”

“You’re giving me a whole sink? Wait … stop…”

Trent grabbed her and started tickling her. Harper didn’t recognize the girly giggles that escaped her.

Pointing to the sink farthest away from the door, she watched as he pushed his toothbrush, toothpaste, and styling products to the other side of the vanity.

He did the same thing with the vanity drawers and created some space under the sink.

“I expect to see toothbrush, toothpaste, your shampoo, and whatever it is that makes you smell like vanilla in here.”

“You like the vanilla?” It never ceased to surprise her, the details he remembered.

Turning, he grabbed her cheeks in both hands and kissed her hard. He trailed kisses behind her ear and inhaled deeply before returning to face her. “Absolutely. I fucking love vanilla,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again, softly this time. “Oh and I’d better see a box of tampons too.”

“Oh my goodness, you are beyond!” Harper blushed furiously.

“I want you for so much more than just sex, Harper.”

He grabbed her hand and took her back into the bedroom before yanking open all of the closet doors. Within minutes there was hanging space and empty coat hangers.

“I’m going to pack up some stuff right now, and then we are going over to your place to do the same thing. I’m moving into your place and you’re moving into mine today.”

“Ow,” Harper squeaked as Trent gently swatted her butt. “What was that for?”

“Because I can’t keep my hands off your perfect ass.” His quick grin made her heart clench. “I’m getting you up and to your place before you change your mind.” Harper watched as his mighty fine form walked toward his newly arranged closet. She nearly melted as he dropped his pajama bottoms. Looking over his shoulder, he winked at her.

Chapter Twenty-two

Harper locked up Trent’s apartment and smiled at her new key ring, the pink and sparkly skull with a little bow on top casting reflective rainbows on the door.

The last four years had given her a renewed appreciation for the small things in life. They’d gotten keys cut to each other’s places and Trent had bought her the key ring. So not her, but cute. He’d put their respective condo keys on it and handed it back to her. Who knew a skull could make her the happiest girl alive? He’d also presented her with an awesome new phone, complete with new number, as the police had taken hers away.

She headed over to the mall to meet Drea. They walked to Drea’s favorite store and not half an hour later, Harper was sitting on a fitting room bench watching her pull on a pair of bright red jeans. “So Dre, what’s the deal with you and Cujo? What happened the other night?”

“Urrgghh! He’s infuriating. I don’t know why you don’t see it.”

“You’re right, I don’t. He’s been nice to me, sweet, even.” Harper shifted to lean forward, watching Drea turn from side to side to check the fit.

Drea slumped next to her on the bench. “Doesn’t it bug you? The way he treats women. You saw how he was with that blondie the other night. And he treats me like I’m stupid. I know I only work in a coffee shop, but I help José manage it. I’m not stupid.”

Harper put her arm around her friend. “No, you definitely aren’t. Are you sure there’s no way you’re mixing signals? I work in the coffee shop, technically beneath you, and he doesn’t make me feel small.”

Drea sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Maybe he just doesn’t like me, and you’re the boss’s girlfriend so he has to make nice with you.”

Could that really be it? It was a possibility, but somehow that just didn’t sit right. She remembered him sitting with her through her first tattoo when she had been so clearly upset, laughing and joking with Trent until, together, they had seen her through it.

“I know what you’re saying, Dre, but I just, I don’t know, I really struggle with that. I’m not saying it’s you or him … I just wonder if you got off on the wrong foot with each other.”

“Don’t you see how arrogant he is? Thinks he can take what he needs from a woman and then drop her as soon as there’s responsibility to be had. Doesn’t care who it affects and how much it hurts. He’s just like my dad.”

“I had no idea, Drea.”

“Shit.” Drea wiped furiously under her eyes, taking in a deep breath. “You know what? It’s fine, Harper. He doesn’t like me, that’s fine. He won’t even speak to me if you aren’t around and even then it’s usually to say something mean. I’ll just avoid him when we’re out together.”

Harper looked at her friend, wondering if she was even aware how unhappy she sounded about that.

As Drea paid for the jeans, Harper pulled out her phone to text Trent. He was going to love the cute little bra and panty set Drea had encouraged her to buy. A rich emerald-green satin with black lace. She swiped the screen and then stopped when she saw the incoming message.

There’s nowhere to run.

*   *   *

Trent sat up on the weight bench, his muscles burning with the satisfying pain that only came from a good workout. As he took a long drink of water, he scoured the gym until he found her.

Wearing red wraps on her hands, bound tightly to protect the small bones and joints from fracture, Harper alternately kicked and punched the hook and jab pads Leon held, looking like a pro. Her body was definitely more toned than before and it looked seriously good on her. When Frankie yelled, “Stop!” Harper dramatically fell to the floor, laughing as Frankie threw the towel at her.

He watched as she joked with some of the guys in the gym. Gone was the nervous, timid, albeit courageous girl who’d come to see him that first night. In her place was a strong, capable woman. He could swear he was more worried about the text messages than she was, which was why they were heading out to the police station when they finished at the gym.

Leon tossed the pads over the rope, and Trent watched as they fell to the concrete floor. She’d been sparring with Leon at Frankie’s request, but he’d yet to see her in action. The roundhouse kick she executed knocked Leon off balance, not an easy thing to do to the six-foot fighter.

“Your girl’s a natural,” Frankie said as he joined Trent on the weight bench. Trent watched as the perfectly timed knee kicks did what they were meant to do. The guys in the gym cheered as Harper rained an elbow strike down on Leon’s head guard.

Trent opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came. Sure, Leon could easily have laid her out, but she was definitely giving him a workout. Frankie laughed.

“Yeah, we were all a bit like that when she started picking it up quickly. She could fight, if she wanted. I’d train her if she did.”

The bout over, she walked toward him in her little shorts and tank top, all golden, glistening skin, unraveling the hand wrap on one hand until she hit her thumb loop.

“Ready to head out, Andrews?” she asked, throwing the wrap at him.

“Have I told you how much I like you wet?” Trent handed her a bottle of water before stroking a thumb across the sheen of sweat on her collarbone.

“Funny.” She smiled, her cheeks pink.

“Serious,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her chastely.

“Eew. Gross. Shower. Now.”

Trent raised his eyebrow, the idea of a shower with Harper beyond tempting.

“Separately!”

He laughed as she read his mind.

Half an hour later, they were heading into the police station to show Detective Lopes the latest messages.

“I don’t get how they found her number so quickly.” Trent shifted in the uncomfortable plastic chairs across from Lopes’s desk.

“I was talking to our tech guys. They think someone is using malware.”

“Malware?” Harper asked, leaning forward to put her elbows on the desk.

“Malicious software. You know like worms, viruses, and spyware. Tough to find, tougher to treat, and almost impossible to stop. It can be installed on your computer, phone—any mobile device. All it takes is you opening an innocuous-looking link and boom. They have full access to all your data.”

Harper had paled. She took a deep breath. “You okay, darlin’?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She looked up at him. “Nathan was a whiz at that kind of computer stuff.”

“We can get someone here to run a check on any computer you might have and on your phone. It might help.” The detective paused to take another drink of his black coffee.

“I see you had some trouble at your place of business, Mr. Andrews. Vandalism?”

“You did?” Harper asked, her eyebrows drawn together.

Shit. He should have told her sooner. “Yeah, darlin’. We did. It wasn’t a big deal. It happened while I was in LA. By the time I was back, Cujo had it all cleaned up.”

“But why did you call the police?” Great. Now she was all worried about him. He reached over and took her hand, her fingers immediately tightening around his.

“Just in case we need to claim on the insurance, but I don’t see how it could be connected. Probably some kids just being idiots. Did the same myself many years ago. I think the statute of limitations has passed on that, though, before you get any ideas.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Humor me.” Lopes smiled. “What was the vandalism?”

“Kind of clever really,” Trent said. “They sprayed a Dante quote on the logo, actually from the second circle, canto five…” Lopes’s eyes were starting to glaze over. “Anyway,” he said, cutting to the chase, “it said
Amor condusse noi ad una morte
or
Love brought us to one death.
”

Harper’s fingernails pressed into his skin, her hands clammy.

“Write it down for me,” Lopes said, passing a pad and pen across the table to Trent. They wrapped up the conversation with the logistics of getting her devices checked.

Trent held the door to the police station open for Harper. He suspected they were up against something way more professional than either he or Harper realized. He put his arm around Harper’s shoulders, and pulled her close to his side as they walked through the parking lot. Harper looked up at him, the tensing of her jaw betraying her nervousness.