Page 27

The ride to her apartment was mostly silent, although Harper had to smile a little at Jake’s sideways, worried looks.

“I’ll be fine, really,” she assured him. “And at least I don’t have to wake up tomorrow with the dread of the coming day.”

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening with each tap. The rhythmic sound filled the car, echoing his frustration. "I should have said something to Lydia, at least," Jake muttered, his voice tinged with regret. "You didn't want me to, and I respected that, but, dammit." He shook his head, jaw clenching. "It should never have gotten to this point. Those women had no right to treat you that way."

Harper slumped in her seat, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the day's events. "I was wrong," she sighed, her amber eyes clouded with a mix of exhaustion and self-reproach. She tucked a strand of foxy-red hair behind her ear, buying herself a moment to gather her thoughts. "At least, in retrospect. But, who would have thought it would escalate like this?" Her voice trailed off, barely above a whisper, as she gazed out the window at the passing streetlights.

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “I called Becca while I was watching that precious trio get their stuff. She’ll be coming to my place for dinner later, do you want to join us?”

Wrapping her arms around her waist, Harper shook her head. “Could I take a rain check on that? Right now, I just want to go into my room and hide,” she confided.

He chuckled. “Good luck with that. Becca wasn’t the only one I called.” He nodded toward the apartment building as they pulled into the driveway. She followed his gaze, and her heart leaped to see Nathan standing on the sidewalk, clearly waiting for her.

Home. Den. Mate. Her fox strained, wanting to go to him. Her fingers reached instinctively for the door handle as Jake slowed the truck to a stop. “You can just drop me here.” She wrenched her gaze from Nathan, to give Jake a smile of gratitude. “Thank you. Really. For helping me get through… that.”

“No problem,” he said gruffly. “Now go see your man.”

She needed no urging. Eagerly she opened the door and leaped down from the truck, running for the front porch. Nathan met her with open arms, pulling her close to him. She clung to him, allowing the comfort of his embrace to seep into her, calming the torrent of anxiety that still remained. She felt more than saw his wave to Jake, then he drew back to look down at her.

"How are you holding up? Jake said it was pretty rough in there," Nathan murmured, his brow furrowing with worry.

"It was," Harper admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She swallowed hard, pushing down the lingering anxiety. "The worst I've ever experienced. But I'm good now. Being here with you helps."

He gazed into her face searchingly, his warm brown eyes dark with concern. His sensitive musician's fingers framed her face with a gentle touch, thumbs brushing softly across her cheekbones. The tender gesture sent a shiver of comfort through her. "Jake only told me the basics," Nathan said softly. "Do you want to talk about it? I'm here to listen if you need to get anything off your chest."

Harper shuddered, her shoulders tensing as a chill ran through her. She shook her head almost violently, auburn hair whipping across her face. "Not at all," she whispered, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. "I don't even want to think about it. It's too fresh, too raw." She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I just want to go on, to push it all away and forget it ever happened. Can we talk about something else? Anything else?"

"That's not exactly healthy," he observed, his brow furrowing with concern. "But it's okay. I understand." Nathan smiled at her, leaning his forehead to rest against hers as they stood together on the sidewalk. "Tell me what you want to do. Do you need some time alone, or would you prefer company? Do you want to come to my place? We could watch a movie or just talk about lighter topics if you'd like."

She could feel her fox shy away from the idea, its instincts urging her to retreat to the apartment. Harper hesitated, torn between the primal need for her den and the comforting desire to be with Nathan. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt as she wrestled with the conflicting impulses.

Nathan's perceptive gaze swept over her face, reading the internal struggle etched in her furrowed brow and tight lips. "Tell me," he encouraged softly, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

Harper took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the effort. "My fox... she wants her den. To hide out," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. A flicker of vulnerability passed through her amber eyes as she met Nathan's concerned gaze. "But I want to be with you." The admission hung in the air between them, fragile yet weighted with unspoken emotion.

Nathan nodded. “That’s what we’ll do then. We'll go up to your place, and I'll get us some drinks while you get comfortable. I can stay a couple of hours, then I have a private lesson at four. After that, we'll see how you feel, if you're up to coming to my place and hang out with me and Jill, and I'll make us dinner. If not, we'll call out for delivery and cuddle up together here. That sound good?”

Harper heaved a sigh of relief, her shoulders visibly relaxing as if a massive boulder had been lifted from them. The tension that had been coiled in her chest began to unravel, replaced by a warm sense of comfort.

"That sounds perfect," she assured him, her voice soft but tinged with genuine gratitude. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I appreciate it… really, I do."

Harper spent the afternoon curled up in her favorite armchair, wrapped in a soft blanket while Nathan kept her company. They watched silly cat videos on YouTube until her fox settled down, content with their mate's presence. When Nathan left for his lesson, she dozed off, emotionally drained from the day's events.

The gentle chime of her phone woke her. Nathan's text asked if she felt up to coming over for dinner. Reyna perked up at the thought of seeing him again, and Harper smiled, realizing the nap had done wonders for her state of mind.

The short drive to Nathan's house helped clear the last cobwebs from her mind. She pulled into his driveway just as the sun began to set, painting the sky in soft oranges and pinks. The sound of music drifted through an open window - Nathan playing his piano, the melody light and cheerful.

Harper let herself in through the back door, following the familiar path to his kitchen. The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air, making her stomach growl. Nathan stood at the stove, stirring something in a pan while humming along with the music playing from his stereo system.

"That smells amazing," Harper said, dropping her purse on a kitchen chair.

Nathan turned, his face lighting up. "Hey there. Feeling better?"

"Much." She moved closer, peering into the pan. "What are you making?"

"Chicken piccata." He lifted the spoon, offering her a taste. "Here, tell me if it needs more seasoning."

The lemony sauce melted on Harper's tongue, the perfect balance of tart and savory. "This is wonderful."

Nathan beamed at the praise. "Almost done."

"I can make the salad." Harper moved toward the fridge, but Nathan caught her arm.

"Already taken care of." He nodded toward a crystal bowl filled with mixed greens, cherry tomatoes, and cucumber slices. "Your job tonight is to relax. Would you like some wine? I opened a bottle of Pinot Grigio to go with dinner."

"Yes, please."

Nathan poured her a glass, then returned to put the finishing touches on their meal. Harper settled onto one of the barstools at his kitchen island, content to watch him work. The music shifted to something classical - Mozart, she thought - creating a peaceful backdrop to the domestic scene.

Reyna stretched luxuriously in Harper's mind, radiating satisfaction at being near their mate. For once, Harper didn't argue with her fox's assessment. The events of the day felt distant here in Nathan's warm kitchen, the trauma at work fading like a bad dream.

Nathan moved with quiet efficiency, plating their dinner without feeling the need to fill the silence with small talk. Harper appreciated that about him - how he could just... be. No pressure, no expectations. Just acceptance.

She sipped her wine and let the peace of the moment wash over her. The knot of anxiety that had lingered in her chest all afternoon finally loosened, replaced by a gentle calm that felt like coming home.

Harper followed Nathan into the dining room, where he had already set the table with simple white plates and gleaming silverware. A single candle flickered in the center, casting a warm glow over the room. She settled into her chair as Nathan served the chicken piccata, the aroma making her mouth water.

"This looks incredible," she said, picking up her fork. "I didn't know you were such a talented cook."

Nathan chuckled as he took his seat across from her. "I'm full of surprises."

Harper took a bite, savoring the delicate balance of flavors. The chicken was tender, the sauce bright with lemon and capers. "Mmm, this is amazing."

"I'm glad you like it." Nathan's smile was soft, his eyes warm in the candlelight.

They fell into an easy conversation as they ate, discussing their favorite movies and books. Harper was delighted to learn that Nathan shared her love of classic science fiction novels, and they spent several minutes debating the merits of Asimov versus Heinlein.

"I still can't believe you've never seen Blade Runner," Nathan teased, refilling their wine glasses.

Harper laughed. "I know, I know. It's on my list."

"We'll have to watch it together sometime," he said, his tone light but the invitation clear.

She smiled, warmth blooming in her chest at the thought of curling up on the couch with him, Jill dozing contentedly at their feet. "I'd like that."

The conversation flowed easily as they finished their meal, moving from favorite films to childhood memories of summer vacations and family traditions. Harper found herself sharing stories she hadn't thought about in years, like the time she got lost at the state fair and ended up befriending a prize-winning pig.

Nathan's laughter was warm and rich, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he listened to her tales. In turn, he regaled her with stories of his own misadventures, like the time he accidentally dyed his hair green trying to impress a girl in high school.

As the last bites of chicken disappeared from their plates, Harper leaned back in her chair, feeling pleasantly full and more than a little giddy from the wine and good company. Nathan stood and began clearing the dishes, waving off her offer to help.

"You're my guest," he insisted, stacking their plates. "I've got this."

After the dishwasher was loaded, Harper followed Nathan into his cozy living room, sinking into the plush leather couch. The wine had left her pleasantly warm and relaxed, though a touch of shyness crept in as she gathered her courage.

"Would you..." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Would you play your cello for me? I've never heard you perform."

Nathan's face lit up. "Of course." He disappeared down the hallway to his music room, returning moments later with a gorgeous mahogany cello.

Harper watched, fascinated, as he settled into an armchair and positioned the instrument between his knees. His long fingers curled around the bow with practiced ease, and when he began to play, her eyes widened in recognition. A laugh bubbled up before she could stop it.

"You're playing the Tennessee Waltz?" She pressed her palm to her forehead, shaking her head. "You were supposed to be cheering me up."

Nathan paused, fixing her with a steady gaze that lasted long enough to make her squirm slightly.

"It's a cello," he said simply.

Harper opened her mouth to protest, then closed it as she considered the instrument's deep, mournful tones. The rich vibrato and somber timbre were perfectly suited for melancholy pieces. Even upbeat songs took on a haunting quality when played on a cello.

"Fair point," she conceded with a small smile.

Nathan adjusted his grip on the bow. "How about this one? Not exactly cheerful, either, but you might like it better."

The first haunting notes of Skye Boat Song filled the room, and Harper's breath caught. The melody flowed from his cello like water, rich and deep, telling the ancient tale of loss and desperate flight. His eyes closed as he played, completely absorbed in the music. His fingers danced across the strings with practiced grace, drawing out every nuance of emotion from the instrument.

When the final note faded away, Harper burst into enthusiastic applause. "That was beautiful! I love playing that one on my harp."

"You do?" Nathan's eyes lit up. "The arrangement must be gorgeous on the harp."

"It really is. The harmonics work perfectly for it." Harper leaned forward, excitement building. "Have you ever played The Wild Mountain Thyme?"

"One of my favorites." Nathan nodded.

"Oh yes! Greensleeves- though that one's become a bit cliché."

"Still beautiful though," Nathan said. "Especially when you strip away all the Christmas arrangements and get back to the original melody."

Harper narrowed her eyes playfully at Nathan. "What have you got against Christmas?"

Nathan laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Nothing! I swear." His eyes danced with amusement as he set his cello aside. "I love Christmas. The decorations, the food, the music - well, most of it. But some arrangements take beautiful old melodies and drown them in so much sugar and sparkle you can barely recognize them anymore."

Reyna perked up at the mention of food, and Harper had to stifle a chuckle at her fox's one-track mind. "So you're a Christmas music purist?"

"Not exactly." Nathan settled back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "Take Greensleeves - it's this incredible Tudor-era love song with layers of meaning and emotion. Then someone decided to make it about pine trees, and suddenly that's all anyone remembers."

"What Child Is This uses the same melody," Harper pointed out.

"And that version works because it maintains the dignity of the original tune." Nathan's hands moved as he spoke, conducting an invisible orchestra. "It respects the source material instead of trying to jazz it up with sleigh bells and synthesizers."

Harper couldn't help smiling at his passionate defense. Music truly came alive when Nathan talked about it, his whole face lighting up with enthusiasm. It was adorable how worked up he got over musical authenticity.

Harper leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Sometimes mixing things up can create something magical though. Take what Loreena McKennitt did with God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen."

"Oh?" Nathan raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"She blended it with this amazing Middle Eastern beat." Harper's hands moved in flowing gestures as she described it. "The traditional carol meshes perfectly with the drums and exotic instruments. I can't belly dance to save my life, but whenever I hear that version, I want to get up and try."

Reyna stirred at the thought of dancing, clearly amused by the mental image of Harper attempting to shimmy.

"I've never heard that arrangement," Nathan said, his expression lighting up with curiosity. "But now you've got me interested. It sounds like exactly the kind of creative interpretation I might actually enjoy."

"Really?" Harper grinned, delighted to have piqued his interest. "I have it on my phone if you want to hear it."

Nathan carefully placed his cello back in its stand, then turned to face Harper. His warm brown eyes held a hint of concern as they met hers. "How are you feeling now? Really?"

Harper's heart fluttered at the gentle way he asked. The earlier panic and stress from work felt like a distant memory, washed away by good food, music, and Nathan's calming presence. Even Reyna had settled into a content purr in the back of her mind.

"I'm good." She smiled, realizing she truly meant it. "Better than good, actually. Being here with you..." She gestured around the cozy room. "It's exactly what I needed. The whole awful day just sort of melted away."

"I'm glad." Nathan moved to join her on the couch, close enough that she could feel his warmth but not so close as to crowd her. "I was worried about you earlier."

"I know." Harper smiled at him, reaching out her hand for his. "But you helped more than you realize. Just being here, letting me relax and not having to talk about it or explain anything..." She paused, searching for the right words. "It's like you knew exactly what I needed."

Nathan's expression softened. "I am glad," he murmured. "That you're feeling better."

His arm slipped around her shoulders, drawing her against his solid warmth. Harper caught the faint scent of his cologne mingled with the earthy notes of rosin from his cello as his fingers fingers traced gentle patterns on her arm.

His other hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing softly across her skin. Harper's pulse quickened, and her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in, his breath warm against her lips. When their mouths met, the kiss was sweet and tender, lingering with unspoken emotion. Her fingers curled into the soft fabric of his shirt as warmth bloomed in her chest.

Reyna practically purred with satisfaction, and Harper couldn't help but agree with her fox's assessment. This felt right - safe and thrilling all at once. Nathan's gentle kiss spoke of care and protection, of understanding and acceptance.

Nathan's lips were soft against hers, the kiss gentle and unhurried. Harper melted into his embrace, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. When they finally drew apart, she rested her head against his shoulder, content to simply be held.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed ten, startling Harper from her comfortable daze. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

"I should probably head home," she murmured, though she made no move to leave the warmth of Nathan's arms.

"Probably," he agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple. "We both have work tomorrow."

"I don't, actually. They told me to take tomorrow off. But you have your classes to teach."

“I only have morning classes,” Nathan said, his voice a low rumble against her hair. “Why don’t you come over for lunch? We could do something afterward.”

A thrill shot through Harper, a mix of excitement and something deeper, something that resonated with Reyna’s quiet purr of contentment. “I’d love to,” she breathed, the words barely a whisper.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the grandfather clock’s rhythmic ticking filling the quiet space. Nathan’s arm tightened around her, and Harper leaned into his touch, savoring the simple comfort of being held. The lingering scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body created a sense of peace she was coming to crave.

“What did you have in mind for after lunch?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.

Nathan’s fingers stilled on her arm. “I’m open to suggestions. We could go for a hike, explore downtown, or just stay here and listen to music. Whatever you’d like.”

The image of exploring the town with Nathan, hand in hand, sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. But the idea of staying in, curled up on his couch with music playing softly, held its own appeal. She could imagine spending hours lost in conversation, discovering more about this man who seemed to understand her without words.

“We could see if Jill wants to join us,” Nathan added, a smile in his voice.

The thought of the jackalope accompanying them on an outing made Harper chuckle. She pictured the little creature hopping along, observing the world with its large, curious eyes. “Jill would like a hike. Reyna would too.” The thought of running through the woods with both Nathan and Reyna made her smile.

Harper sat up straighter, her brow furrowing. "Wait, wouldn't that be dangerous? Jill can't be seen by anyone - jackalopes aren't supposed to exist."

"I thought about that," Nathan said. "There's this trail I know, deep in the woods behind the lake area. It's pretty secluded, and the undergrowth is thick enough that if we hear anyone coming, Jill can easily hide in the bushes."

Harper considered this, absently running her fingers through her hair. The idea had merit, especially since... "Reyna could help with that. Her hearing is incredible - she'd pick up humans long before they got anywhere near us." Her fox stirred at the mention of her name, projecting images of dense forest and the thrill of exploration.

"Really?" Nathan's eyes lit up. "How far can she hear?"

"Depends on the conditions, but usually about half a mile if the sound carries well. More than enough time to get Jill hidden away safely." Harper smiled, warming to the idea. "And most hikers stick to the marked trails. If we stay off the beaten path, we probably won't run into anyone at all."

Nathan nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. There's this brook that runs through the park, too. We could picnic beside that."

Reyna's excitement bubbled up at the mention of the brook, and Harper had to stifle a laugh at her fox's sudden interest in potential fish-catching opportunities.

"That settles it then," Nathan said, nuzzling his cheek against her hair. "I'm going hiking with a jackalope and a fox. It's not every day I get to say that."

Harper laughed, the sound light and carefree. "You're starting to realize that 'normal' doesn't really apply anymore."

Nathan squeezed her shoulder gently. “Normal is overrated.”

He leaned back, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his side. The rhythmic beat of his heart against her ear was a comforting counterpoint to the ticking clock. Harper closed her eyes, letting the warmth and peace of the moment wash over her.

The clock chimed again, this time the half-hour. Harper reluctantly pulled away, a hint of regret tugging at her.

“I really should go,” she said, though she made no move to stand.

Nathan’s arm tightened around her waist. “I know.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she echoed, the word a promise.

Reluctantly, Harper untangled herself from his embrace and stood, smoothing down her shirt. She turned to face him, her heart full of a warmth that spread through her like the afterglow of a perfect melody.

“I’ll see you at noon?” she asked, her voice soft.

Nathan’s answering smile made her breath catch. “Noon. I’ll have lunch ready.”

With a final, lingering glance, Harper turned and headed for the door, the anticipation of tomorrow already warming her from the inside out. The night air was cool against her skin as she stepped outside, but the memory of Nathan’s embrace lingered like a comforting warmth.

Nathan walked her to the door, their fingers intertwined. "Text me when you get home?"

"I will." Harper reached up on tiptoe to kiss him one last time. "Thank you for tonight. For everything."

His smile was soft in the dim porch light. "Drive safe."

Harper stepped out into the cool evening air, her heart light despite her reluctance to leave. As she slid behind the wheel of her Mustang, she caught sight of Nathan still standing in the doorway, watching to make sure she got to her car safely. The simple gesture made her smile.

She started the engine and backed out of the driveway, waving as she pulled away. Even Reyna was content, curled up sleepily in the back of her mind. The evening had been exactly what she needed - good food, beautiful music, and most importantly, Nathan's quiet, steady presence making her feel safe and cherished.