Unsung (22 page)

It had taken him no time at all to remember a lot of facts. Like that she liked her bananas the most when they just started to get spotted. Or that even though her nausea wasn't nearly as severe, all things poultry still weren't agreeing with her. Or that she preferred prime numbers when it came to just about anything…like grocery store lines or the volume on the TV. Yeah it was, weird but he just went with it.

He went with everything.

Her throat constricted as she stared down at the juice glass in her hand. Her head came up and she looked back over to Liam who was at the stove, flipping the knob and turning off the burner. The tightening feeling in her throat was now accompanied by the burning at the corner of her eyes.

“You want some of my Potato Sensation?” Liam asked as he grabbed plates from the cupboard next to him. “I made toast, too.”

She couldn't stop the sniffle that happened next, either. It seemed to fill the kitchen, bouncing off the tile. She bowed her head, running her thumb up and down the glass.

“Hey, hey now.” Liam was back to her in an instant, pulling the juice from her hand. He touched her chin, pushing her head up. “Honey, what's going on?”

“I don't want you to leave.” And just like that she burst into tears.

It was something she wished she could blame entirely on the pregnancy hormones, and though those no doubt had something to do with it, they weren't the only factor.

He pulled her into his chest, his hands moving up and down her back. “I know. I don't want to, either. I'll be back in no time at all.”

“And then you leave again.”

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “We're going to figure this out, honey. We are.”

“Promise?”

“I swear.”

The certainty in his voice was a small relief…she just wished she felt as certain.

L
iam was more than capable of being a patient guy…in certain circumstances. He could handle long lines with ease, didn't really lose his temper while driving, never really watched the clock waiting for time to tick down.

That was until Harper had come along. Turned out when he wasn't with her, all he was thinking about was how long it was going to take to get to her again. This constant unsettled feeling had been going on since May, and though it was different than it had been when he couldn't find her, it was no less intense.

Twelve days. Twelve days since he'd seen her and he was losing his damn mind.

And the morning he was currently having was bringing everything to a boil. The Canadian and Great Lakes leg of the Isaac Hunter tour was over, but there was something else on his schedule that he needed to do before he could get back to Harper.

Shoot the video for “Beyond the Limits.”

The song was supposed to be a tie-in with the outlaw aspect of
Mason-Dixon,
but the location for the video was in Louisiana as they were doing a bayou Bonnie and Clyde thing. The forty-eight-hour shoot was now apparently going to take seventy-two.

Something that he was in no way pleased about as he was out in the middle of the swamp, the summer sun beating down on him with an intensity that just shouldn't be legal for ten o'clock in the morning. Not to mention the air was already so thick it was like he was breathing in soup.

And the real reason he was about to lose it? All of this was keeping him from Harper.

If he could go back in time to last year when Isaac and Hunter had asked him to help out in writing the song, he would've said no if it meant he could be anywhere besides the
middle of the fucking swamp
in that moment.

So yeah, his patience was almost non-existent.

Maybe it was the fact that his shirt was sticking to him, the sweat trickling down his back. Or that the smothering heat was suffocating him. Or it could be that Miguel, the director of the video, had shot the scene with Kiki running her hand up Liam's thigh while they sat on the back of a boat on the bayou three times already.

It could also quite possibly be because the guy wanted another take.

This scene was a compromise to what they'd originally wanted, which was Kiki straddling Liam's lap as she leaned down for a kiss.

He'd flat out refused, having a pretty heated conversation with Gary that they were going to have to figure something else out. And even with the edits to the video, Liam was in no way happy.

While all he wanted to do was go take a shower and wash off the feel of her hands on his body, Kiki was enjoying every moment of it.

“Like this?” she asked, moving closer and pressing her chest against Liam's arm. She turned her head, her voice dropping low as she looked over at Miguel, whose eyes were focused on Kiki's legs that had been covered in baby oil.

Why that was necessary when they were both already sweating in the heat, he had no idea.

“Yeah. Just like that, sweetheart.” Miguel winked. “And roll.”

Kiki turned back to Liam, her eyes looking up at him as she batted her lashes. “You want this, baby. You want
me
,” she murmured. “You need to admit it to yourself.”

Liam pulled away from her, the need to distance himself too much to not listen to.

“Cut.” The exasperation in Miguel's voice apparent. “We need to do that again.”

“I need a break.” Liam stood, not even turning back as he jumped off the boat to the shore and headed to the trailer that had been set up for him.

The second he stepped inside he was enveloped with the cool air from the air conditioner. He went to the mini-fridge in the corner and grabbed a bottle of water, downing it in seconds.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand when he pulled the bottle away. His eyes caught on his phone that was sitting on the table and he reached for it automatically, pressing the Home button. Harper had texted him earlier that morning and he unlocked the screen, pulling up their full conversation.

Painting my toes pink this morning while I can still bend this way.

Attached was a picture of her sitting on the bathroom sink, wearing short-striped pajama bottoms and one of his Jacksonville Stampede T-shirts that he'd left at her apartment. She was looking up at the camera, her hair thrown up in a messy bun as she blew him a kiss.

God he missed her. And the need to be with her was overwhelming. “Forever” was going to be released next week, but the promo for it had already started. He'd done more than a few interviews about it in the last couple of days.

And he wanted to tell Harper about it face to face. Which was why the delay in getting to her was killing him.

He needed to finish this video now. Get it over and done with and be on his way. He put his phone back on the table, grabbing another bottle of water before he headed outside. As he rounded the half a dozen trailers that had been grouped together he came up short when he overheard his name.

“Liam is fine, Miguel. I just want to make sure that I look good for this,” Kiki said sweetly. “This video is a big deal for me and I need you to get all of my best angles.”

“Sweetheart, I got all of your best angles. Believe me. You look good in everything that I've shot.”

Liam moved just enough to peek around the side and catch a glimpse of the pair. Kiki was running her hand up Miguel's chest as she looked up into his eyes. “Just a few more takes.” She stretched up and kissed Miguel's jaw. “I promise I will make it worth your while.”

“The label is already starting to ask questions with the delay, Kiki. I don't think I can push this out longer.”

“You could try though, couldn't you?”

White-hot anger flowed through him. “Are you kidding me?” Liam asked as he rounded the corner.

The pair jumped apart as they moved to look at Liam.

“You're the reason I'm still stuck here?” He looked at Kiki, so over this woman in every capacity known to man. “You're un-fucking-believable, you know that? I'm done here.”

He didn't spare another word, another breath in their direction, before he turned around and walked away.

Eight nights and eight mornings—that was all it took for Harper to get completely and totally dependent on Liam being next to her when she went to bed…and him being there in the mornings.

It was strange really as she'd spent about fifty times as many nights and mornings with Brad. Yet when he left, the empty space next to her in bed wasn't
nearly
as significant. Sure, she'd missed her ex when he'd left, but not like this.

Nothing
like this. This was more like a gaping chasm.

She talked to Liam every day—multiple times a day actually—which was all that was getting her through it.

He'd been delayed another day at the video shoot…the video shoot where Kiki Jean Carlow was apparently going to be crawling all over him.

Liam had been completely and totally up front with her about what was going to be happening. He'd also told Harper that he wasn't interested in the actress at all…which only helped a little bit.

Not that she didn't trust him, because she did, but it didn't stop the jealously that coursed through her in the slightest. She wasn't even remotely prepared for any of it. Wasn't aware it was possible to miss someone so much.

God she was going crazy. She knew it, too. Not only was she exhausted all of the time, but she would cry at the drop of a hat, and over ridiculous things, too. A commercial for tires made her cry the other day. Yeah, that's right.
Tires.
And then when she couldn't fit into her jeans two days ago she'd had somewhat of an emotional breakdown.
Over jeans.

Though to be fair to herself, that was the first day that she noticed a drastic difference in her body. She was starting to show and she was going to need to go maternity clothes shopping very soon.

Her hips were getting wider, her boobs perilously close to spilling out of her bras, and then there was the tiny bump above her belly. She'd never really had the flattest stomach known to man, and she definitely didn't now.

Not that she had a problem with said baby bump in the slightest…it was just that Liam wasn't there to see it. And it made her emotional.

The only thing going for her was that the nausea was non-existent and she could eat regularly without problems…but that was pretty much about it.

He'd told her the night before that he was going to be delayed another day, which had put her into a pretty spectacular funk. And because the universe was apparently against her this week, when she got to the spa for work on Wednesday morning—the longest day of the week in her opinion—it was to find Bethelda Grimshaw in her room at Rejuvenate, waiting for a massage.

Bethelda-
freaking
-Grimshaw.

Yup, one of the regular clients at the spa was none other than the gossip hag of Mirabelle. As no one
ever
wanted the woman as a regular client, she was rotated among all of the therapists.

Apparently it was Harper's week for the short end of the stick.

“Ahh.” Bethelda smiled, eyeing Harper over her cat-eyed glasses. “I get you this week. You look considerably better than the last time I saw you. No longer wasting away in despair over your failed relationship? Getting back up to your fighting weight I see.”

Oh great, a fat reference.

“I am doing better, Mrs. Grimshaw.” Harper did her level best to paste a smile onto her face and not gag at the fact that she'd just addressed the woman as
missus.
“Thank you.”

“I also noticed you're back in the ring with another man. You do move fast don't you? Don't really waste time between rounds.”

Now a slut reference. Perfect.

“How about we get started?” Harper asked, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Yes.” Bethelda's eyes did another sweep over Harper's entire body.

She had a very strong instinct to cover her belly with her hand, to shield her baby from this woman. But she resisted. A move like that would be ample fodder for this woman to write about. As it was, Harper had no doubt that her Voluptuous V. nickname would be gracing another Bethelda Grimshaw blog post very soon.

She couldn't freaking wait.

Starting her day with Bethelda Grimshaw was a pretty accurate precursor for how the rest of Harper's day was going to shape up.

She had back-to-back clients and barely any time to breathe. Which might've been a good thing as one of her clients had apparently bathed in patchouli before she'd come in. The scent was so pungent that Harper's small reprieve in no more nausea was non-existent.

After lunch, Harper went to LaBella where she was treated to a couple on vacation yelling at her for her inability to “squeeze” them into her already packed book for the day. And then she was forced to listen to a tourist who spent the entire hour on the phone talking to someone about “the injustice of
Daddy
not buying her the convertible Porsche for the days that she just didn't feel like driving her Beamer or Audi.”

There was a “no phones” policy in the spa, but it had long ago been established that if the clients didn't follow it, there was no way to enforce it.

Speaking of phones, she'd forgotten her phone charger. Since she'd also forgotten to charge it the night before, it died somewhere around two o'clock. The short charge on her drive from the spa to the resort had only bought her about a half hour.

Texting Liam throughout the day had become part of the norm, so not having that when she was already in a foul mood was just adding fuel to the fire at this point.

She was at the spa until well after seven, just in time to get caught in the downpour from the thick black clouds that had been threatening all day. They were an excellent indicator of exactly how she felt, too.

The second she stepped out from the overhang of the spa the wind whipped up, making her umbrella flip and getting her soaked in an instant. She shoved the useless bit of scrap metal and cloth into the trash can at the end of the walkway before sprinting to her car.

When she shut the door behind her it was like she'd just climbed out of a pool. She shoved her keys in the ignition, turning over the engine before she opened the vents and turned on the heat.

Summer or not she was shivering, the cold making her teeth chatter and every inch of her skin breaking out in goose bumps. There was a cardigan in her backseat and she snatched it up, attempting to wipe some of the water from her skin. Her ponytail was dripping and when she squeezed the material of the sweater over her hair it instantly soaked the fabric.

Harper threw the now sopping cardigan into the seat next to her, before she found her phone in her purse and plugged it into her car charger. The spinning wheel popped up, indicating it was getting some juice, but it would be a good couple of minutes before it loaded up. The song on the radio ended and rolled into another as she put her Cruiser in Reverse and backed out of the parking lot.

She wanted more than anything to take a steaming hot shower when she got home, but the lightning that cracked across the sky a second later shoved that idea out of her head. She was going to have to settle with food warming her up.

She was going to make the most decadent grilled cheese sandwich possible with the ingredients in her fridge before she heated up the tomato soup her mother had sent home with her the night before. Then she was going to curl up on the couch with Luna in her lap, a cup of hot chocolate in her hand, and talk to Liam in whatever form was available.

It would be her choice to FaceTime with him as she'd like to see his face more than anyone's in the world, but she'd make do with just his voice if she had to.