Unsung (7 page)

“Get away from it all. I live in a very small town. Pretty much everyone knows. The looks of pity everywhere I went were getting to be a little much, and I just didn't want to deal with it. Not this weekend.”

“I get that. So you came here to spend it with your aunt?”

“Yeah.”

“And then ended up spending it with me.” His eyes didn't leave hers as his hand moved from her jaw, running down her neck and tugging her shirt down to reveal the very top of her breasts. He traced the swells with his fingertips before he palmed the full weight of one, his thumb rasping over her nipple through the material.

“Yeah,” she repeated, now more than slightly breathless.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the side of her neck. “Your ex is a moron.”

She laughed, a different kind of warm settling in her belly and mixing with the heat that was the constant result of his hands on her body. “Really? You've known me for all of about twenty-six hours.”

He pulled his mouth from her throat and looked at her, shaking his head. “I could've told you that after twenty-six seconds. I'm sorry you had to go through that, I really am, but all I can think is, thank God he was an idiot. Because if you'd married him, you wouldn't be right here.” He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to hers. “Right now.” Another quick touch of his mouth that was just a little more than a taste of his lips. “With me.”

Well, damn.

“How is it that I just had you and I already want you again?” he whispered, sounding more than a little baffled.

“I don't know. But you should go with it.”

“Yes, ma'am.” This time when his mouth touched hers he didn't pull away, his tongue finding hers as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss.

His hands were at her hips, pulling her from the counter as her legs wrapped around his waist. He was carrying her through the house again, his mouth not leaving hers as he navigated around the furniture and made his way to the bedroom.

The second she was on her back the weight of his body disappeared. The drawer of his nightstand was pulled open and then slammed shut. She sat up, pulling the shirt over her head while he lost his boxers and put on the condom. He knelt on the bed, hooking his fingers in the lace at her sides and dragging her panties down her legs.

And then he was pushing her back onto the mattress, climbing up her body and trailing kisses across her skin.

“Slow,” he said as he settled between her thighs. “I want to take my time.
Need
to take my time.”

“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly; it was the only thing she could manage to say. Slow sounded glorious. Slow sounded perfect.

He placed one of his arms by her head, leveraging himself up as his knees moved out, pushing her legs farther apart. And then he was sliding inside of her and her back was arching up off the bed.

She wrapped her legs around his thighs, placing her feet flat on the mattress and giving herself just a little bit of leverage herself, moving with him.

His free hand went to her head, palming the side of her face as he leaned down and kissed her. His tongue thrust into her mouth, matching the delicious pace that their bodies were rocking together.

It was a slow build. Torturous and perfect, starting at her toes and climbing up her body with every push and pull of his hips. Her mouth fell away from his, her eyes closing as she gave way to the pleasure.

“Harper.” He whispered her name and her eyes opened again. All she could see was the green gold of his gaze, the adoration clear. Adoration for her. “Just wait.”

She wasn't sure if she could; it was all coming to the surface. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. She couldn't get enough air into her lungs. Couldn't hold off the release that was building at the very core of her.

It was all too much. Too much to take. Too much to understand. And the way he was looking at her? Watching her? Seeking her pleasure with every move he made? How could she wait?

“I can't,” she gasped. “I can't hold on.”

“You can.” His hips slowed as he kissed her gently. “Stay with me,” he said against her lips. “Stay with me, Harper. We'll get there together. Slow, remember?”

“Slow.” She nodded, grabbing on to his biceps, her nails undoubtedly scoring his skin.

He did it three more times, building her right up to the edge of an orgasm before pulling back and slowing down. She wasn't sure she could handle another one. Wasn't sure if she'd survive it.

“Please,” she begged. “Please, Liam.”

This time his hips didn't ease up. No, they moved faster, harder, slow apparently a thing of the past. And the result was mind bending.

Her orgasm slammed into her, taking over her entire body. Her hips bucked wildly, her hands clawed at Liam's back, her lungs were going to explode. But even with all of that, her eyes didn't leave his.

The pleasure in his face was incredible. Pleasure he found in her. Pleasure they found in each other.

He didn't stop moving until they were both good and truly spent. His arms were shaking as he gave her one last kiss on the mouth. And then his lips were moving to the spot just under her left ear, his tongue rasping against her skin and making her entire body shiver as another spasm contracted her core, squeezing around the length of him that was still firmly inside of her.

“You're incredible,” he groaned. “Every part of you.” And then he rolled off her, pulling from her body as he fell to his back.

Neither of them moved for a minute…or five, staring at the ceiling.

“What the hell was that?” he asked through a hoarse voice.

“I…I have no idea.” And that was the first lie she told him. She knew exactly what it was.

Her heart was still beating out of her chest. A thrumming so loud she could feel it in her ears. And she couldn't catch her breath to save her life.

She'd gone and done it. She'd fallen in love with him. Fallen in love with a man who she didn't even know.

How the hell had that happened?

How was it even possible?

And what in the world was she going to do?

L
iam knew before he even opened his eyes the following morning.

The sheets next to him were cold and empty.

The house eerily quiet.

No note.

No good-bye.

No anything.

Harper was gone.

H
arper stared down at the line of pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter.

All five of them had the same answer.

Just like the five she'd taken the day before.

And the five she'd taken the day before that.

Fifteen tests and they all said the same thing: she was pregnant.

A soft whine at Harper's feet had her looking down at Luna. The little French bulldog was sitting back on her hind legs and staring up with wide black eyes. She stood, taking a couple of steps forward and laying down right across Harper's feet as she whined again.

Luna always did this when she sensed that Harper was upset…which was pretty much all the time these days.

Harper bent down, picking Luna up and cradling the small dog in her arms before she turned and slid the rest of the way down the cabinets. She sat on the bathroom floor, petting the dog's back and waiting for the world to right itself.

But that wasn't going to happen.

“I'm pregnant,” she whispered, thinking that if she said it aloud she'd believe it.

Nope. Not the case.

It had been five weeks since Nashville. Five weeks since she'd walked into that bar and gone home with a man she'd just met. Five weeks since she'd spent two nights having the most mind-blowing sex of her life. Five weeks since she'd run away. Five weeks since she'd left a sleeping Liam in his bed. Five weeks since she'd turned into a coward.

She thought about him daily…multiple times a day in fact, and every time she did it hurt like hell.

She didn't get it. She hadn't even spent forty-eight hours with him and she missed him more than she'd ever missed Brad.

How? How was that even possible?

She'd gone over it all thousands of times. Replaying it in her head and trying to figure out if she could've done things differently.

But what other choice did she have? Two days with him and he'd had more power to destroy her than anyone else ever had before.

That last night with him, she'd lain there for hours memorizing the moment. Memorizing
him
. His arms wrapped around her body, his steady deep breaths on her skin, his lips on her shoulder.

When she'd pulled away from him it had been physically painful.

But she knew the pain was nothing to what it would be if he was the one to walk away from her. So in the long run what she'd done was best…

Or at least that was what she kept telling herself. What she
had
to keep telling herself. But really it was a big lie. A
massive
lie.

She'd driven to her aunt's, letting the numbness overtake her because as soon as she started to really feel things, she was going to lose it. Celeste had been home, asleep on the sofa with a marathon of her favorite cooking show lighting up the otherwise dark living room.

The second the door had closed behind Harper she'd started sobbing. To Celeste's credit it had only taken her about thirty seconds to go from asleep to fully aware of the situation. It was well into the morning before Harper had stopped sobbing. By the time she'd gotten a hold of herself she'd been desperate to get out of Nashville, needing to put as much distance between her and Liam as possible. If she didn't, she probably would've found herself on his doorstep again.

And that could
not
happen.

Celeste was the only one who knew what had happened with Liam. All of her friends and family were under the impression that her current state of mind still had to do with Brad.

They were all
incredibly
wrong.

She'd been forcing herself to function over the last few weeks, thinking it was going to get better. Turned out she was just biding her time, denial her greatest friend.

She'd ignored the fact that her period had been late…one week running into two and then turning into three. And then the morning sickness had set in two weeks ago.

Morning her ass.

She was nauseous all the freaking time. She'd kept telling herself that she was coming down with something.

See, denial.

But the proof was sitting on the counter behind her. This was the third morning in a row that she'd looked at those positives. There was no more hiding. Reality had just caught up to her.

The corner of her eyes prickled, that familiar constricting sensation taking over her throat.

You are not going to cry.

You are
not
going to cry.

You. Are. Not. Going. To. Cry.

These were your decisions.
You
went home with him.
You
slept with him…half a dozen times.
You
got pregnant.

She closed her eyes, taking deep steady breaths through her nose, trying to calm down her now rolling stomach. Or stop the steady stream of tears tracking down her face.

Neither of them went away. So she just sat there and continued to pet Luna.

These were
your
decisions.
You
cannot go back and change things. This is how it is. How it is going to be.

Deal with it.

And deal with it she would…just as soon as she got off the floor.

The
ohhh
s and
awe
s that emanated from the circle of women around Harper were beginning to get to her. But really what else did she expect? She was at a joint baby shower for two of her friends.

About thirty women were stuffed into the front room of Café Lula, munching on finger foods and drinking punch. The little eatery, with its variety of bright colors scattered about here and there, was closed on Sundays, so the party had free rein.

Harper closed her eyes and took a deep, fortifying breath when another round of
awe
s resonated around the circle. It turned out to not be the best idea as her mother—who was currently sitting next to her—bit into an egg salad sandwich.

Eggs were currently enemy number one on Harper's
not-so-friendly
food list. The smell. The taste. The general thought of them. But as her mother was currently on her
not-so-friendly
in general list, she wasn't too shocked.

Delilah Laurence didn't always think before she spoke…or before she acted. And yes, Harper completely and entirely understood that mothers could be critical of their children—daughters especially—but Delilah took it to a whole other level.

She hadn't held back any of the jabs of late. But she
never
held back. Ever.

Harper hadn't even been at the shower five minutes when Delilah had cornered her and started in. As she hadn't really been eating the last couple of weeks, and her appetite had been pretty limited even before the morning sickness had kicked in, she'd lost a few pounds. The dress she'd picked out for that afternoon was a size smaller than she'd been wearing, and one that she hadn't fit into for a couple of years.

“I might not agree with this breakup of yours,” her mother had said, giving Harper the ever-critical Delilah once-over. “But it does have its benefits. You look skinnier.”

Wellllll
, that was all about to change now, wasn't it?

No sooner had the jab from earlier crossed Harper's mind, when her mother leaned over and whispered, “It's a good thing you have so many friends with children, now you won't feel like you're missing out.”

Yup. Delilah was in for a surprise. Harper wondered if she could just wait until after the baby was born, and have the baby tell her mother the news.

Guess what? You're a grandmother!

Yeah, probably not.

Well, at least part of Delilah's statement was true. Hannah Shepherd and Paige King were both very much pregnant. Hannah was due in mid-October, Paige toward the end of September. Though the odds that Paige lasted that long were a little slim because she was carrying twin girls, her baby bump was quite a bit bigger than Hannah's.

The stack of baby supplies on either side of the women was growing considerably. As Hannah was having a little boy, hers was dominantly green and blue. Paige's was filled with pinks and yellows.

Paige and her husband Brendan already had a little boy, Trevor, who'd just turned two last month. He was currently helping his mother rip the paper off of her gifts and giving Hannah assistance with her presents as well.

Paige and Hannah had quickly become two of Harper's closest friends when they moved to Mirabelle, but the positions of best friends were and would always be reserved by Grace King—now Grace Anderson—and Melanie O'Bryan—now Melanie Hart. Grace and Mel had known each other pretty much since birth. When they'd met Harper on the first day of sixth grade almost fifteen years ago, she'd been quickly added to the fold.

Neither of them knew what was currently going on with Harper. Not talking to them about it over the last few weeks had been nothing short of painful. But Harper couldn't talk about it. She wasn't ready yet. Because if she said the words to someone else, everything would be really real.

Oh look, there was that denial again.

But her denial wasn't the only reason she wasn't talking. No, the other part was the jealously that she just couldn't get over, and the subsequent guilt that accompanied said jealousy.

Grace and her husband Jax had welcomed their daughter Rosie Mae into the world last September, and Mel and Bennett were now embarking on starting a family of their own. They were in the trying phase and enjoying every aspect of it.

Harper was happy for them, really she was.

It was just hard.

How could it not be? She was single…
alone
…and now very much pregnant. While all of her closest friends were married to men who loved them. Men who adored them. Men who would move mountains for them.

None of them was doing it alone.

At that exact moment someone who immediately had Harper amending her previous statement filled the empty seat to her right.

Almost
all of her friends were married to men who loved them and weren't raising children all by themselves. Beth Boone was the exception. And her situation was
way
more complicated than Harper's would ever be.

Beth had been a couple of years ahead of Harper, Grace, and Mel when they were in high school and they'd all been friends. When Beth had graduated, she went up to Tallahassee for college. She and Mel had been roommates for a couple of years when their time in school overlapped, and they were incredibly close.

For more than a decade, Beth's older sister and brother-in-law—Colleen and Kevin Ross—had been next-door neighbors to Mel's parents. Mel's little brother, Hamilton, was best friends with the Rosses' oldest daughter, Nora. The two kids had grown up together, running back and forth across the front yard.

Two months ago, Kevin and Colleen had died in a car accident. They'd both been killed on impact. Beth moved back to Mirabelle and was now the sole guardian and new parent to her sister's three kids: Nora, sixteen; Grant, seven; and Penny, three.

How was that for some perspective?

Penny was currently curled up in Beth's lap, her little head resting on Beth's shoulder while she sucked her thumb and observed the room through her wide, mossy green eyes. The pair could easily be mistaken as mother and daughter as they both had the exact same shade of blond hair, though Beth's eyes were a light blue.

“Would you judge me if I packed up some of that food over there and took it home in to-go containers?” Beth whispered conspiratorially. “Cucumber sandwiches and raw vegetables are an acceptable dinner for three children, right?”

The circumstances sucked for Beth returning to Mirabelle, but Harper truly had missed her friend.

“I mean I wouldn't.” Harper shook her head. “But there's no guarantees to some of the other guests.”

“What are you talking about?” Beth gasped in mock shock. “No one here has a single judgmental bone in their bodies.”

Penny pulled her thumb out of her mouth and stretched up to Beth's ear. Harper could just make out the word
potty
in Penny's little voice.

“I'll be right back. Don't let anyone take my seat.”

Harper nodded, and as she watched them walk away she couldn't help but be in awe of her friend. Beth had been thrown into the deep end and she was handling things remarkably well. In the scheme of things, Harper was treading water in the shallow end.

Barely keeping her head up from drowning.

And as if on cue, like she sensed the moment to strike, Delilah leaned over and said, “It's a shame things didn't work out with Brad; you would've made beautiful babies. Though hopefully they would've had his metabolism.”

Harper was getting to the point where she didn't visibly cringe when Brad's name was said. They were now starting in on month five of him being gone, and it was no secret to anyone that Delilah partially blamed Harper for the demise of the relationship. It was also no secret that Delilah was still holding out hope that he'd come back.

She'd told her mother more times than she could count to let that pipe dream go, but it hadn't happened yet.

Harper closed her eyes and took another deep breath, reminding herself that she loved her mother. Really she did. But sometimes the woman tried every ounce of her patience. Today was no different. But she could get through this. She
had
to get through this. And really this was just the calm before the storm when it came to what was going to happen. Because when the truth came out, all hell was going to break loose.

So Harper went back to protocol number one in regards to Delilah Laurence: she locked her jaw tight and stared straight ahead, counting down to her escape.

Thirty-two minutes, twenty-nine seconds…

Twenty-eight seconds…

Twenty-seven seconds…

She looked across the circle of chairs to find Mel's amber eyes on her, eyes that very rarely missed anything.
You okay?
She mouthed.