Seventeen Days Page 8

  “I’ve thought about being in a bed with you, but not only for you to hold me.” Her confession makes me instantly hard. Cursing at myself eternally before answering, I tell her, “So have I, babe. So have I.”

  If she only knew how many times. Which is pathetic if you think about it. I’ve known her for a few short days but have pictured her here at least a hundred times.

  Turning down the covers, she crawls into my bed. Claiming the middle, I quickly follow her in. Grabbing her around the waist and pulling her tiny body flush to mine. Once her breathing starts to even out, I ask her what’s wrong again.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. I’ll hold you all night. I’m here, though, if you want to talk it through.”

  Grabbing my hand that’s resting on her stomach, she easily threads her fingers through mine.

  “She wanted me, Harrison. And she knows my father. Like in the present tense, knows him.” Her mother? No, she was supposed to talk to her aunt, she can only mean Savannah.

  “Savannah wanted you? When? As a baby? Did she tell you who your father is?”

  Her breathing starts to get choppy again, reminding me of the ocean waves when a storm is brewing.

  “Yes, as a baby. She asked Sienna for me before I was ever born. Obviously, she was turned down. And no, I didn’t give her a chance to. I sort of ran from the truck before she fully stopped it. I needed you. Your arms, your strength.” She sought me out when she needed comfort, that makes my chest hurt, causes my heart to swell. I know we’ve only known each other for a few days, but damn if I didn’t just start to fall in love with her. No one has ever sought me out for comfort. For her to trust in me so much already shows me so much about her feelings toward me.

  Placing a kiss on her temple, I squeeze her fingers. It’s my only reply to her and the only one she seems to need. She doesn’t talk anymore, and soon her cries have quieted again and are replaced by the sounds of her sleeping. My poor beautiful girl has exhausted herself.

  Once she’s sleeping deeply enough, I slip from the bed and go in search of something to eat. Knowing she didn’t eat either, I scramble up a few eggs and fry up a package of bacon. She can eat whenever she wakes up. Being a bachelor, I don’t know how to make much in the kitchen. Sadly, eggs are my one and only specialty.

  Dog comes bumbling into the kitchen in search of whatever scraps he can get. I know it’s bad for him but I’ll toss the leftover bacon grease over top of his kibble. He’s old and deserves the treat. Not knowing how many eggs she’ll eat, I scrambled up a whole dozen. She sure can eat; she proved that over dinner last night. I’ve never seen a person eat so many onion rings in one sitting. Let alone a woman as slight as Red.

  As I’m washing up the dishes, I hear her come into the kitchen. Her quiet footfalls echo loudly on the hardwood floors.

  “You have a few eggs and bacon on a plate in the microwave. If you want to eat them now, it’s still hot.”

  Walking by Dog, she pats him on the head as she passes. “He’s cute. What’s his name? He doesn’t look like he wants to kill me in my sleep like Mac does. I feel like that dog silently judges every little thing I do.”

  So that's why she doesn’t like Mac much, she thinks he’s judging her. The poor bastard.

  “Dog.”

  “You named your dog, Dog? The poor thing.” She reaches down to pet him again—he’s putty in her hands.

  “Hey, I was eight I think when we got him. I wasn’t exactly what you’d call creative in my younger years. Dog seemed to fit him fine. And he’s never complained.”

  “Well, I’m going to call him Rusty Sprockets. Cause he’s old now and needs a bomb ass name. Clearly, his owner didn’t think of a good one.” I’m loving how she feels good enough to tease me, and her cries have stopped.

  “Babe, what makes you think that is a ‘bomb ass name’? And where in the hell did you come up with Rusty Sprockets, do I even want to know?” I could see maybe Rusty, since he’s reddish brown in color.

  “It is in fact a bomb ass name. Did you ever watch the cartoon The Jetsons while growing up? Wasn’t the place where George worked called something Sprockets?” she asks.

  “Number one, completely random. Number two, you watched that cartoon? Number three, you’re so fucking cute.”

  Shit, I called her cute. She’s going to have my balls for that.

  “Okay, buster. Yes, I can be random. Yes, I watched the show, it was awesome. And I’m not cute, I’m fucking badass. Just because I cried tonight doesn’t mean you can call me cute. Sexy. Feisty. Spitfire. Red. Those you can call me but never cute.” Mumbling to herself, she says, “I’m not cute. Where the hell did he get cute from? Maybe I should take my food and Rusty Sprockets and head out the damn back door.”

  “What was that, babe? I didn’t quite hear you? Are you talking to yourself?” I may be egging her on, but I don’t give a shit. I love it when she’s feisty.

  “Yes, I was talking to myself. I’m going to steal Rusty, my food, and be on my way now. Thanks for the shoulder and shit. See you at work tomorrow. Come on, R.S., let’s blow this popsicle stand. Do you happen to know the way to Mac’s house? Cause I’ll need you to be a man and lead the way, ol’ boy.”

  She doesn’t make it five feet away before I grab her and pull her to me. Her back is flush to my front. “You’re not going anywhere, Morgan. You’re staying right here. All night. Dog didn’t move an inch. So it’s a good thing I know where his loyalties lie. Guess he doesn’t like his new bomb ass name or he’s smart enough to know I wouldn’t let you leave.”

  She takes a huge breath and mumbles to herself again, “Fine, your bed is super comfy anyway.”

  Guess I won another round.

  “Good. Now eat up and let’s go lie down. We can talk, sleep, or make-out.” Wiggling my eyebrows up and down, she knows which of those options I choose. What can I say, I’m a man. I’ll always choose making out over any of those options. But if she wants to open up more to me, she can. I want to be here for her. Maybe forever.

  “You’re horrible, Harrison. Horrible.”

  Baby, we’ve only begun.

  “Mm … make the buzzing stop already,” She’s knocking anything she can reach off of my end table. Too bad she’s on the wrong side—she’ll never get the buzzing to cease.

  “If you ignore it long enough, we can pretend it never went off. Thad can run the small tour on his own or go with Gentry and let Steve take the smaller one out. You and me should keep ignoring the alarm clock and sleep. Get back over here and cuddle me, woman.”

  She doesn’t put up much of a fight after I pull her back down into my arms. Mm. Warm woman first thing in the morning. Can it get any better than this? Hardly.

  She doesn’t allow me much cuddle time before I feel her elbow jab into my stomach. “Ow. What was that for?” Rubbing my stomach, I whine, “You have sharp elbows.”

  “Aw, do you want to me kiss it and make it better?” Um, hell yeah I do. Before I can answer, she’s off the bed and searching all over the place for my phone alarm clock. She’ll never find it; it’s in the bathroom.

  “Bingo. Found the stupid asshole. If it wasn’t your phone, I’d kill it. Smash it into a thousand minuscule pieces. He deserves to die a horrible miserable death.”

  Smiling at her as she climbs back into bed, she leans down and presses a quick kiss to my lips.

  “Since your alarm clock so rudely awoke us, we better get a move on it. Just because I slept with my boss last night, you shouldn’t give me any extra favors. Up and at ‘em, Captain.”

  Before I can fully turn to my side, she’s out the door and back into the bathroom. Who has this much energy in the morning? It’s not even five minutes past six.

  Crazy woman.

  We we’re up till nearly 1 AM talking. Getting to know one another. She never brought up the subject of her father again.

  Though I took one last night, a shower sounds like a wonderful idea. A shower including
Morgan would be even nicer. Too bad it’ll never happen. All I can offer her are my kisses. That’ll have to be enough for the both of us. Tangling up any further will only hurt us both in … twelve days.

  Realizing how limited the time is we truly do have left together and knowing she has to talk to her aunt sooner rather than later, I make the decision for both of us.

  While I’m dialing Steve’s number, Morgan comes back into the bedroom, freshly showered. “Who are you calling this early? Or should I say attempting to call?” she asks.

  Voicemail. Guess I’ll have to call Thad to have him take over since Steve didn’t pick up.

  “Hey, Steve, it’s Harrison. Was calling to let you know plans for the day have changed. You’ll take out the four-hour group alone. I’ll be calling Thad next. Him and Gentry can take out the larger group. If you have any issues, give me a call.” I don’t answer Morgan since she clearly heard who I was calling.

  When I start to dial Thad’s number, she takes a seat on the bed. “Are you making plans to not work today, boss? That’s cool, you probably need a day off. But can you drop me off at the office at least? Since I don’t feel like seeing my aunt for her to take me.” Unbeknownst to you, you’re playing hooky today too, sweetness.

  “Let me make this last call and I’ll tell you everything.” Giving her a slight wink, I continue to try and reach Thad.

  He answers on the second ring, “What’s up boss?”

  Taking a moment to explain to him the message I left for Steve, he agrees to take care of things at the office. “Oh, one more thing. Can you please not switch the answering machine off? Morgan won’t be in today, either. Thanks, man.”

  Hanging up, I glance over at Morgan. Shit. She’s pissed. I know she loves to make decisions on her own but I’ve seen the look she gives me when I take charge and take care of her too. She likes me all possessive.

  “Why did you give us the day off? I thought you were joking because you wanted more sleep.”

  Reaching out, I grab a piece of her wet hair and start to wind it around my finger. “While you were in the shower, I made a few decisions. Knowing you’d never make them for yourself, you’ll probably hate me, but I started putting those plans in motion by giving us the day off. We have the next two off anyway. Making it a three-day weekend will do us both good.”

  “Um. Okay. But I still don’t understand why you did. What are these decisions that you speak of? Am I going to need coffee to have this conversation? A knife? Rusty Sprockets by my side waiting to take you out?”

  Still can’t believe she tried to rename my dog.

  “Coffee sounds good. Follow me, and I’ll start a pot—we can start to talk while it brews.”

  Hopefully she won’t toss her mug of hot coffee at me once she finds out what I want to do today.

  Setting out mugs and starting the coffee, I stay oddly quiet. I can tell it’s killing her not to ask what the fuck is going on, again. She knows me well enough by now to know that I’ll start talking on my own.

  “I think you should talk to Savannah today. Now, before you get all pissed and run away, hear me out.” Turning around to meet her gaze, I continue, “What you told me last night was only the basics, and I didn’t press you for more. One day when you’re ready, you’ll tell me everything. And I can wait, but who can’t wait is Savannah. She’s waited eighteen years to be able to say these things to you. If you’d like me there when you attempt to make amends, I can be. As cushion for you both. I’m not going to pick sides. Know right now, I won’t choose you over her or vice versa. I’m Switzerland when it comes to whose team I’m on.”

  “Holy shit, did you Twilight me?”

  Huh? What the hell is she talking about?

  “You know those books about falling in love with vampires. Werewolves too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You totally Twilight-ed the hell outta me.”

  She’s thinking I read a fucking book about vampires falling in love? Fuck that. Nope, not for me. If it was written by Stephen King, maybe. But he’d never write anything chick-flick worthy. Give me Pet Cemetery and a few beers, and I’m good.

  “Trust me, I have never read a book about vampires in love. So no, I didn’t ‘Twilight’ you. I take it from your reaction you’ve read it?”

  “Sienna may have gotten me signed copies of all four books, and not only signed by the author but the actors who portray Edward, Bella, and Jacob in the movies. So yeah, you can bet I’ve read them. You’re Switzerland comment is why I said you Twilight-ed me. Bella says she’s team Switzerland when her beloved Edward is fighting with her best friend Jacob. And you should totally read it. I think you’d actually like it. You should at least watch the movies.”

  She hasn’t so much as brought up my suggestion of her talking to Savannah. Maybe she agrees with me and knows they should talk. Maybe I dodged a bullet after all.

  Dog comes sniffing around to see if we’re cooking. He does love his scraps. “Hey, Dog, no human food yet, buddy. Let me fill up your kibble dish and give you some cool fresh water.”

  “Rusty Sprockets may need a potty break before he eats. Don’t you think?” she asks.

  “Nah, he uses the doggy door and comes and goes as he pleases. No need to force him to go out. He’s happy. I’m happy. And his name is Dog.”

  “Pffft, he’s Rusty Sprockets, and you know it. You’ll be calling him by his new name before you know it. And about Savannah, I think you’re right. We should talk things through as soon as possible. And yes, I’d love for you to be there. I’m not asking you to choose sides. But your being there would be comforting to me. Maybe you could call her and arrange that while I toss us together some breakfast?”

  Well, that didn’t go so bad. Now if only I can get Savannah to agree to them talking today. Hopefully she’s not too busy with appointments so we can’t make it happen. I plan on getting Morgan’s father’s info out of her and driving Morgan over there to meet him if she wants. Who knows where he is, it’s another reason why I took today off and made it a longer weekend. We may need to travel a distance to see him.

  As Harrison pulls into my aunt's driveway, I crouch down further into my seat. I’m acting like a toddler, but I don’t care. How much can one person handle before they break? Guess I’m about to find out.

  “Come on, Red. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I’ll be right there with you. Even if I am Switzerland, I’ll still be there for comfort. You’ve got this.” At least he’s confident, cause I’m totally not.

  He parks the truck and hops out before I can reply. I’m still crouched down when he opens my door to help me out. “I don’t want to,” I mumble. Why the hell am I mumbling? Again. What is it about these people that brings out my inner child? I’ve never felt so immature since coming here.

  Must be all the salt in the air. Or whatever, no clue.

  “From what I have gotten to know over the past few days, Morgan Elizabeth Young is stronger than this. She is a fighter. She’d get out of this damn truck. She’d go as far as actually talking to her aunt. Getting the answers to questions she’s wanted for eighteen years. Maybe I left her back at my place.”

  He had to go and say that. Shit. He’s good at throwing down dares.

  Breathing in and out deeply, I finally give in and get out of the truck. Sienna has forced me to be grown for a few years now, I may as well act like it.

  “Fiiiine. I’m out, but you may have to hold my hand for me to eventually take one step toward the door. I’ve never admitted this before, but I’m scared, Harrison. I’m so fucking scared of those answers she can give me. It seems like I’ve been living my entire life in a bubble and it’s now bursting wide open.”

  “The future is always scary, Morgan. If it’s not, you’re not living. Nothing in life is guaranteed. Everything can come to an end instantly. A drunk driver could take out your whole family on their way to one of your basketball games and you’d never get to tell them how much you loved them again. Trust me, I know you’re scared. I’m
scared every damn day. Every. Damn. Day.”

  Clasping my hand in his, he starts leading me to the front door. Savannah’s truck is in the driveway, and I’m surprised she hasn’t opened the front door already. I bet she’s watching us from the front window. Glancing towards the window, I try to catch her watching, I see nothing but curtain. Hmm. She’s not as nosey as I would be.

  “Should we um, walk right in? Like should I act normal like we didn’t have a life-alerting fight last night?”

  Give me the answers, please.

  Guide me because I have absolutely no idea what to do.

  This scares me more than waking up in a Paris jail cell with no memories of how or why I was there.

  “Walk right in, babe. It’s what I would do. Knowing Savannah, she heard us pull up and is in the kitchen making hot tea as we speak. I’m right here with you. You’re strong, Morgan. Much stronger than you give yourself credit for. No one, and I mean no one, I know could have survived what you have so far in life. You were raped, for fuck’s sake. Not many survive that without going through therapy or worse. But you did. You survived like I know you can get through this talk with Savannah.”

  Lifting my hand he’s holding, he places a kiss on it and pulls me up the stairs. He’s right, though. He’s so fucking right. I can do this.

  Taking one more deep breath, I push open the door and greet my future. It’s now or never.

  Mac is lying near the front door as we walk in—he doesn’t stir. Him and Rusty Sprockets would be best friends, I bet. We should have brought him along with us. He seems like a great dog, it’s too bad his owner gave him a lame name.

  Hearing dishes clatter in the kitchen, I realize Harrison was right about that, too. She’s making us tea. She claims a hot beverage can cure almost anything. Not sure if I agree on it being tea over coffee, though.

  Entering the kitchen, she’s near the sink with her back toward us.

  “Hey, Aunt Savannah.”

  Grabbing a chair and pulling it out, Harrison gestures for me to have a seat.