Page 51 of Take the Blame (Seaside Mergers #3)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

AUGUSTUS

She liked to eat cucumbers daily, that's why she always smelled like them.

She loved citrus, but her favorite was lime. She squeezed them on everything, she could even eat them plain.

She didn’t run every day to stay in shape but to calm that brain of hers that seemed to be working a million miles a minute every minute of the day.

Being able to learn these small parts of her was like validating a feeling I already knew was there.

I already had a feeling I would love knowing all of Alta’s little intricacies, getting to experience her so closely that I got to see parts of her that no one else did.

What I didn’t know until it was too late was that I’d want her to know mine as well.

I meant it when I told her I wasn’t trying to hurt her that day. She was sick, and we weren’t together like that—aren’t. But for my own sanity, I couldn’t not tell her how words like the ones she spoke in the bathroom could absolutely crush me. They damn near did.

Still, the last thing I expected or wanted from her was a break down.

It was precisely those kinds of hurt feelings that I was trying to avoid by addressing the issue.

And talking about it had been productive, but that productivity didn’t extend to the guilty depression she seemed to slip into shortly after.

Yep, a good healthy dose of shower crying and puppy dog stares when she thought I didn’t notice, and a string of apologies laced into everything she said when she knew I did.

At first I thought she simply took criticism hard, but after a while, namely when she woke up from a cat nap and nearly freaked out because she thought I was gone, I realized something.

She thought that me addressing this with her meant this was it.

And I guess I understood. For someone whose biggest struggle was speaking up for themselves and telling people what they wanted, it made sense that she’d correlated me telling her what I didn’t want with me being at my breaking point. Because that’s what she would do.

But I wasn’t like that. Mar had been like that and her breaking point was leaving, and aside from a few warning signs, no one else knew.

I’d learned the hard way about being straightforward about things.

Keeping things inside could ruin lives. Which is one of the reasons I’d offered to help Alta in the first place.

But despite Alta’s claims that she was doing better with asserting herself, that didn’t mean she was fully healed from the allergy of disappointing people.

I should have taken that into consideration when I sat down to talk to her.

I should have been gentler. But what’s done had already been done and the only thing I’d been able to do after was find a way to show her she was not such an easy thing to give up.

It had taken nothing less than bribery to get her to look me in the eye again. But I wasn’t against the act. Anything to make her smile. And smile she did when I somehow scrounged up an order of her favorite “ice cream” in Rhode Island.

“You got sherbert!” she’d croaked excitedly.

“I did,” I said from the doorway of her bedroom. “Silly Sherbert to be exact.”

I kid you not, the girl crawled over the bed like a poltergeist had taken over her body, skipping past all fours and crawling with her hands and feet. I could feel the surprise stretch my face at how goofy it made her look. I scoffed. “Easy girl, damn.”

“Silly Sherbert? That’s the place in Providence!” she said, sitting on her knees at the edge of the bed. Bouncing excitedly she looked up to me with bright eyes for the first time since our talk. “You did not go all the way there for sherbet!”

“I didn’t.” I shook my head. “But I did go halfway to their second location. I know it’s not the real deal but it was the best I could do with a snoring girl at home.”

She smiled and something tight and coiled loosened in my chest. “You are amazing”

“We knew this.”

“I’m only just learning,” she teased. The familiar challenge of her usual tone returning.

“Let me educate you then.” I walked over to her, carefully setting the treats beside her and laying a hand on her cheek.

I still couldn’t believe she’d granted me permission to kiss her whenever I felt like it.

Sick or not I wouldn’t miss a chance to demonstrate how much I appreciated that choice.

I started right then by pressing a soft kiss to her dry lips, making a mental note to get her more water before she got to work on that fruity excuse for ice cream. “Convinced? ”

She hummed, pretending to think about it. “Maybe after two or three more of those.”

“Ah, that’ll cost you, Boss,” I said. “Pay up.”

She looked up to with amusement in her gaze. “What do I owe?”

“All your smiles from here on out. No more tears, no more guilt. A fresh start, yeah?” I answered.

Her head snapped back, her eyes moving back and forth between my own. “You didn’t drive all that way for sherbet just so I would smile, did you?”

“Just?” I raised an eyebrow, then bent to take advantage of my new kiss rule again. “Do you have any idea how hard I worked for even one of these things? That smile isn’t ‘ just ’ anything. It’s everything. And I’m spoiled now, so I refuse to go back to not having it.”

Soft emotion took over her face. It was different from the way she’d been crumbling up until now. It was more sure. Unplagued by insecurity or guilt, and full of a knowing that warmed my heart.

Sliding her arms around my waist she asked. “What flavor did you get?”

“Lime, of course,” I said. “What, you think I’m an amateur or something?”

She laughed again as she beamed into my eyes. “I’ll smile as long as you stay with me.”

And damn was I rewarded by those words alone.

I’d taken them literally, spending the entire weekend by her side. Nursing her back to health and picking up on the getting to know her front where we’d left off the weekend before.

And when Monday came around and I had to leave bright and early for work, we were both surprised when I impulsively suggested, “You should come too.”

She couldn’t go back to her office until after the November holidays and everything she did could be done online from her laptop anyway, or so she explained to me. So I thought she might as well make herself at home in my office at the shop… if she wanted to that is.

She wanted to, and on top of spending our days taking peeks at each other in the hall, or over paper coffee cups from the break room, or sneaking touches in passing—we were also going to lunch and staying late after closing time and talking for hours on end too.

Every layer of her I came to know, I found myself loving. Making me wonder how many layers it would take for me to fall for the whole damn thing.

She was incredible in so many ways, but one of the most surprising was that, though she thought she needed help being strong, she was really one of the most fearless people I'd ever met.

She would try anything once. Would jump right into it without a second thought and with a confidence that most people didn't even possess with ventures they worked at for years.

Which is probably why blinking up at her now as she sat across from me in the empty shop after hours, I asked, “Can you draw?”

“Hmm?” She lifted her head, her long wavy hair falling over her blue sweater clad shoulders. She usually had it tied half back and neat when she was in work mode, but when she was with me, she let it fall free.

“Is this some kind of trick question?” She asked now as she looked up at me from her computer.

“Why would it be a trick?” I asked.

“Because you must know that any answer I give is going to be miles worse than yours,” she said, her eyes traveling to my tablet and her lips pressing together.

“Well, it’s a good thing we aren’t competing.” I gave her a deadpan look that she deadpanned right back. She may be sweet, but she did not like to fail. She didn’t like to lose, not even when there wasn’t a competition. I narrowed my eyes. “Come on now, don’t give me that look. Can you? ”

“Yes, I can doodle a little. Nothing like you guys do here,” she said, her shoulders dropping as if I’d judge her.

I wouldn’t. In fact, I couldn’t help the excited grin that spread across my face. She questioned me with an eyebrow raising along her face.

“Wanna draw me a tattoo?” I asked.

“You want me to draw you a tattoo?” she asked, her head snapping back, her eyes going wide “Right now?”

“That’s what I said.”

Long seconds ticked by as she paused, weighing the decision like it was a proposal. “What would I draw?”

And that was my girl. If there was a challenge, she was taking it.

Getting out of my seat I picked up both my sketchpad and my tablet and walked them over to her, holding them up as if she was going to choose her weapon. When she chose the pad, I turned my back to go find her a pencil and some erasers too.

“Draw something that makes you think of me. If I like it, I might use it,” I said.

That was a tiny lie. Unless she drew the equivalent of kindergarten scribbles, chances were it was going on my body. She hummed as she took the materials, then she turned her attention to the blank page, thinking.

It took a second before she was peeking an eye up at me. “Are you going to stand there the whole time?”

I waggled my eyebrows. “What, do I make you nervous?”

“Nervous isn’t the word I’d use,” she said, tone dry.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for the word.

The eye narrowed. “Annoyed. It’s annoying when you hover like that, Harper.”

“Alright, alright.” Lifting my hands in surrender I picked up my tablet and returned to my chair. “Just let me know if you need help. Inspiration. A muse?—”

“ Harper . ”

“Shutting up, Boss,” I said on a chuckle, resigned to give her the silence she so graciously asked for.