Page 22 of Take the Blame (Seaside Mergers #3)

Chapter Thirteen

ALTA

He wouldn’t leave me alone. Not at work, not at home, not in the showers or in bed or even when I was fast asleep. Harper had been plaguing my mind, impeding on my every thought ever since that stupid kiss.

A week since the festival and even though I had so many better things to be worrying about, I couldn’t stop thinking of the weirdness at the booth.

Don’t get me wrong, I tried. After Clay left and it became clear that Harper was not going to tell me how they knew each other, I’d tried to switch tactics to gain more information. By abruptly changing the subject.

“Clay said he was sorry about something,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Why?”

Brown eyes slipped down to me in a look I’d genuinely never seen from the man before. Annoyance. He pressed his tongue against his cheek as he surveyed me. “You know boss, I never knew you were so nosey.”

“Just a question, Harp,” I said softly.

“A question I don’t want to answer,” he retorted just as softly.

I bit my lip. “What about the other thing? He said he heard something about you?”

“ Alta ,” he warned.

“Harper,” I said in my own sort of warning. We stared for several long seconds. Brown against brown. Predator and prey. It was easy to tell which one I turned out to be, so frowning I was the first to look away. “You can’t ignore all my questions.”

“No?” he asked. Suddenly I was being turned, the backs of my legs pressing against the table as a very determined man stood over me.

Tattooed arms came down on either side of my body and a broad chest that I now knew was rock solid came close enough to hover over mine. “And what about my questions, huh?”

“Your questions?” I said, confused and the proximity of his body not helping me to think clearly.

Through the fog of my brain something sparked, and I raised my head quickly, having to swallow nervously a second later. His face was closer than I thought. “ Guts . That’s the word for your tattoo.”

I’d originally thought about going with “resilience” since it seemed to fit the festival theme. But then looking at the broken and battered heart Gus had drawn, I realized that something a little more raw was more his style.

The immediate smile pulling at the corner of his mouth would usually irritate me, but this time it made me feel warm. The nod of his head sending a burst of pride shooting through me.

“That’s a good one. I like it.” His warm voice washed over me like a ray of sunshine, heating my skin inch by inch.

He leaned forward, his chest coming to press even closer to mine, his mouth coming down beside my ear.

That sunny voice lowered, and so did my fluttery feelings.

I clutched the ends of the table behind me to stop myself from touching his hard abs again.

“But that’s not what I’m referring to this time. ”

“No?” I shivered, his breath running over me like a feather-light touch.

“Nope.” His lips grazed slightly over the shell of my ear. I may or may not have whimpered low in my throat. He may or may not have smiled at that response. “When are you gonna let me help you, Boss?”

My breath hitched as the sensation of his mouth on me lit me up. I instantly wanted to press my body into his, but I stayed rooted in place, afraid to make a move. “How do you even know if you can help me?”

The way he looked at me was like I might as well be naked. He looked as if he could see through my clothes and was liking it—was hungry for it.

“Trust me, I know.”

My eyes went to his lips again, my mind wandering back to our one simple kiss and the way it made me feel.

But this time my gaze drifted lower. Taking in the columned lines of his neck, the sculpted rise of his chest, and the enticing expanse of the rest below.

Perversely, I slid my gaze along his tattoos.

Taking in the black ink that curled different images along his skin, all leading down to his strong hands on either side of me.

I didn’t know hands could turn me on. But looking at Harper’s and thinking about how they weren’t touching me—how I wish they were—sent a heat that was unmistakably inappropriate straight to my thighs.

Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I rushed out, “I still need to think about it!”

“Goddamn, you know how to torture a guy,” he said. His grumble made me open my eyes. I was met with the sincerity in his. His smile was soft, for me. “But alright, Boss. It’s your move. When you finally get the guts to come see me, I’ll help you work off some of that frustration.”

Days later, I was still groaning in frustration. Chastising myself as I ran along the sidewalk. It was all great and dandy that Gus wanted to magically zap all my frustrations away, but couldn’t he see that he was the one making me the most frustrated!

Sure, Grace was still a major witch and Ox still hadn’t approached me about rescheduling our meeting and I still hadn’t apologized to Melissa for being mean and about a million other stressors in my insanely busy schedule.

But mainly, overwhelmingly , it was him.

He was consuming. My every thought found a way back to him.

It was becoming a problem I couldn’t just shake off in the name of professionalism.

Now that I knew the way his hands felt on my body or the way his lips tasted when he was angry, I don’t think I could ever go back to using our client, consultant relationship as a barrier anymore.

I was curious about Harper. In more ways than one.

And every day I denied myself to satiate that curiosity, it was like diminishing time on a bomb that was already set to blow.

Like on Tuesday when I was looking at the Feed Board, Harper came right up behind me to look too. With him so close, I couldn’t help feeling that tingly sensation of excitement only to be left near panting when he finally sauntered away without so much as an actual touch.

Or on Thursday when the guys were trying to convince me to get a tattoo again.

Harper decided to chime in by telling me exactly where he thought one would look good.

He chose a spot right on the inside of my arm where he ran warm fingers, causing me to break out in goosebumps of anticipation, just so he could pull away and walk off like nothing happened.

Now it was Sunday and I couldn’t go more than a few minutes without my mind slipping back into the space in my memory where I could feel hands on my body. Harper’s breath over my skin. Harper’s lips on mine…

“Ugh!”

My feet pounded against the pavement as I ran and ran and ran, desperate to get this anxious energy out of me and into another vestige. Mostly, I was fighting myself for wanting that other medium to be him.

I didn’t normally run on this side of town. The beach was nearby and it was quite pretty to see the outline of it as I passed by, but I usually just stuck to the streets beside my apartment so I could quickly shower up and get back to work when I was done.

That wasn’t the case today, though. Today, as my legs burned and my lungs screamed and I pushed myself through the torture of more and more miles, I found myself in a familiar place.

The tattoo shop.

I felt my pace slow even before I came up on the large window of the brick building.

It looked dark in there, but I wasn’t surprised they weren’t open.

It was early. I was surprised however by the obvious sense of disappointment I felt at not being able to see the familiar faces through the window. One familiar face in particular.

I tried to push myself to run past it, telling myself that I only came this way for a change of scenery, nothing else. But my legs decided to get slower the closer I got to the building, slowing down to a walk as I came directly in front of the shop.

My steps stuttered as my eyes fell upon a form I hadn’t seen on my first glance. Now it was all my eyes could eat up as my feet finally wobbled to a stop.

Harper was standing there, leaning against the shop with his foot propped against the brick. He was watching me. I could tell by the little smirk on his face. He’d probably been watching me for a while now judging by the water bottle he had tucked under an arm.

When our eyes connected, he inclined his head in greeting. Like a moth to a flame, my feet decided to move again. Jogging me straight over to him as he pushed off the wall to meet me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Last time I checked, I worked here?” He cocked his head, his gaze traveling over my body, taking in my attire. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, um, running,” I said. Gesturing to myself as my chest moved up and down between long pulls of breath.

He nodded. “Run around here often?”

I kicked at the ground with my toe. “Um, here and there.”

“That’s funny. I’ve never seen you before today,” he said.

“Maybe you just didn’t recognize me.”

“Oh, I always recognize you, Boss.” His eyes ran gently along my face as he added, “Hard not to.”

I bit my lip, a mix of embarrassment and butterflies sending me into a tailspin. “Well, I’m usually up pretty early, so maybe…”

I stopped. No, his smile made me stop. It was knowing, like he’d caught something in his trap, and when our eyes connected he just leaned in and whispered, “Me too.”

I had every intention of running off. Mostly in complete embarrassment of being so transparent and so ridiculous, but also because I felt something brewing inside me. Something that I was quite sure I wasn’t going to be able to ignore for much longer. A want.

I wasn’t a particularly selfish person. I shared things just fine, and I didn’t usually need credit even when I deserved it. But there was one toxic trait that I’d never been able to kick. When I wanted something, I had to have it. And stubborn as I was sweet, I usually couldn’t stop until I did.

Too bad for me, or for both of us, Gus stopped me before I could step away, catching my hand and spinning me back to face him gently. “Come inside, Alta. I brought you some water.”