Page 38 of The Best Man: Unfinished Business

Chapter Nineteen

Harper

Harper tried to catch his breath as he mopped his face with his hand.

He lay side by side, face-to-face with Jordan.

They breathed in each other’s exhales and stared at one another, knowing but still discovering each other.

There was no looking away, no shame, no awkwardness.

Until Harper felt a chill in the air, an awakening to the little bit of self-consciousness he felt about how free he’d been.

“Let me get us a towel or something,” he said.

“Lay down, Harper,” Jordan replied in a soft and feminine voice he’d never heard her use.

“I got you.” Relief washed through him, easing the sense of shame and self-awareness that maybe he’d gone too far.

He was still excited, still catching his breath.

Resetting. Harper looked at Jordan, wondering Do you mean that?

but not wanting to ask. Not needing to, when she kissed his lips before lifting herself up to retreat to her en suite bathroom.

Harper watched her go. He didn’t want to close his eyes and miss any moment of her spectacular form.

He had been so busy exploring her body with his mouth, his hands, and his manhood that his eyes had missed the delight.

Her body now was more perfect than he had imagined, ever, even when he’d wondered what was under those baggy clothes she often wore back at Westmore.

He was in a dream that he didn’t want to awaken from, floating on Jordan’s bed, looking toward the bathroom door, waiting to see her again.

Was he really in Malibu at Jordan Armstrong’s house?

Was what just happened real? Did he really just finally make love to his best friend?

The woman who’d been his inspiration? His infatuation?

He sat up on his elbow, hearing water running in the bathroom, but then it shut off.

What is she doing? Taking a shower? he wondered, hoping she wasn’t a room away from him holding any regrets.

Neither of them should have any regrets.

What they’d just shared was beautiful. Before he could wonder any further, Jordan reentered the carpeted bedroom as naked as she had left it save for holding a large white towel.

“Lay back,” she commanded with gentle energy.

Harper did as he was told, lowering himself to rest on her plush blanket.

Harper felt the warm, moist towel wiping him down.

Jordan lovingly cleaned him with slow soft strokes.

Not used to seeing her like this, Harper reached toward her to try to help. Jordan pulled the towel away.

“I got it, Harp,” Jordan said softly, and met his eyes with hers.

Harper relented as she continued carefully, adoringly wiping him down.

She loves me? he thought. She’d said it when they…

when he’d said it too. But now, her gentle touch across his body answered his question.

She climbed up to straddle him as she used a clean corner to wipe his neck and his forehead, which were still beaded with sweat. Their eyes met again.

“Hi,” Jordan whispered.

“Hi,” Harper returned and smiled at Jordan.

Her smile broke into a chuckle. It was contagious, and they both began to laugh.

“What?” Jordan asked, playfully.

“I—I can’t believe we just did that,” Harper confessed. He was far too open now to try to play it cool.

“We did,” Jordan said, smiling. “It happened. Believe it.”

“I hope…it was okay.”

“It was magical Harper.”

“It really was…” Harper pulled her down on top of him, her breasts collapsing on his chest. So you felt it too, he thought.

He looked into her eyes and moved forward to kiss her deeply.

Harper wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him with all the love he could channel in his body.

She squeezed her arms around him tightly.

“I’m not letting you go,” Harper found himself saying and meaning.

“You better not,” Jordan answered, her head resting on his chest. She looked up at him with sincerity in her eyes.

They held each other closely, tightly, exchanging gentle kisses as the ocean smashed against the shore.

For this moment at least, they had all they needed, deeply satisfied and content.

And then, between them, Harper’s stomach rumbled.

A loud physical growl of emptiness. Jordan pulled up to look at him.

“Hey,” she said with a teasing smile.

“Yeah?”

“You hungry?”

—

At 10:37 p.m. the doorbell rang. The Postmates delivery came right on time.

“Thanks, man,” a bare-chested Harper greeted the casually dressed driver holding a giant Nobu-branded paper bag.

Harper anchored the door with his bare foot against the cold ground and reached forward to grab the bag.

He had no casual shoes, no extra clothes.

He’d brought only what he wore to dinner and just dashed out of Jordan’s bedroom in dress slacks and bare feet, skipping her offer of some of her flip-flops…

as if I’d fit them shits. Bridging the painful divide of gravel and sand that made up Jordan’s exterior landscape, he handed off a handful of crumpled bills from his pocket and took the bag while trying to keep his balance against the door.

He bound up the entry steps and headed to find Jordan in the kitchen.

She had the counter bar top illuminated, and had already surfaced two plates, some utensils, a bottle of wine, and two wineglasses neatly set out for them.

Against an ethereal background of woodwind chords and rhythmic bassline riff, Sade told them what they both knew, that this was “No Ordinary Love,” and the song resonated, permeating the atmosphere as Harper set down the bags.

“I’ll plate us. Can you open that?” Jordan handed him a fancy corkscrew.

“Yup.” Harper grabbed it, using the opportunity to take Jordan in with a long glance.

She’d changed into a silk kimono in blue print, and was looking relaxed, alluring, and, as Harper could see clearly…

happy. Her smooth brown legs moved effortlessly, her breasts, those of a fully blossomed grown woman, were full and moving pendulously.

Remembering the task at hand, Harper managed to pull his eyes away and set to work on opening the bottle.

Jordan unearthed the contents of the bag.

The aroma hit the room, of crispy rice with tuna, miso black cod and garlic noodles, an assortment of everything they would have ordered if they’d stayed at Nobu.

But better as takeout, because… I wouldn’t have changed one thing, Harper thought.

Jordan plated evenly for her and Harper; he uncorked and poured, handed her a glass and lifted his own.

Jordan turned to Harper and took her glass with a raised eyebrow and a smile, meeting him for a toast.

“Cheers, Harper Stewart,” Jordan said sweetly.

Harper couldn’t help but smile back. “Cheers, Jordan Armstrong.”

“Preference?” Jordan offered Harper a fork and chopsticks. Harper selected the latter to pinch a piece of spicy-tuna-topped crispy rice and lift it to his mouth, taking it in whole. The cavalcade of flavors exploded in his mouth with a crunch. “Mmmmm.” He closed his eyes briefly and moaned.

“Dang. Is it that good?” Jordan poked his arm.

Harper smiled. “We’ve come a long way since Jefferson Hall and lemon pepper wings.”

“Freshman year. And you weren’t even fucking with lemon pepper until I put you on,” Jordan reminded him.

“Hey, I had a limited palate back then.” Harper moved to sample the cod with buttery miso, the umami striking all corners of his mouth. “Barbecue and buffalo were it. Those Jasper’s lemon pepper wings used to hit though.”

“For real.” Jordan took a long swig of wine, looking at him. Harper jerked his head toward her as he examined her, trying to read her mind. “You’ve come a long way, homie.”

“No doubt. We both have.”

“Well, I was a bit more polished than you,” Jordan teased.

“That’s not saying much.” Harper winked.

“Say that.” Jordan smiled. “Those boat shoes, those big-ass owl glasses, and them rugby shirts, bruh?”

Harper nearly spit out his garlic noodles, laughing.

“Hey, those striped joints were official!”

“Jesus, help. What the hell did we know?” Jordan shook her head and laughed as she dug into the salad between them.

“You always had a plan,” Harper said.

“We both did. Regimented, self-important,” Jordan reminded him.

“We were kids.”

“Young adults.”

“We did what we thought we had to do. Our parents gave us an opportunity and we had to live up to the sacrifices they made and their expectations.”

“It was good pressure,” Jordan added.

“Yup,” Harper agreed as he sipped. Jordan’s smile waned. Harper noticed her pensive gaze and brief silence. She looked away.

“So, when are you headed back to New York?” she asked.

“Why? You trying to get rid of me?” Harper teased with a smile.

“No. I’m just seeing how many more times I can have you in my bed before you go.”

“Well…I was headed to Maui tomorrow.”

“Maui?”

“Yeah, I was going to chain myself to my computer, rent a villa, see the Pacific when I want, dive into this rewrite.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It is.” Harper studied Jordan, put his chopsticks down, and walked around the island to approach her.

He cornered her against the counter. “But I don’t need to go to Maui.

” He looked directly into Jordan’s eyes, watching for her reaction.

Does she want me to stay? He wondered. To go?

“I didn’t pack a lot and I’d probably grab some more underwear and things…

.” She looked up at him. He held his breath awaiting her response.

“I have a washing machine. And a dryer,” Jordan said. Harper exhaled.

“A dryer too. Hmmmm.” He leaned in to kiss her. “I do have to get some progress on this script.”

“You’ll do it.” Jordan kissed him back. “I’ll make sure of it. I’ll keep you on task. You know I’m good with deadlines.”

“I remember.” Harper lifted her onto the kitchen counter before negotiating his torso between her legs. They were eye to eye.

“We never missed one at the Westmore Review .” Jordan smiled, looking almost exactly like her younger self who used to share the newsroom with him. “Even if we had to stay up all night.”

“All night, huh?” Harper kissed her again.

“If necessary.” Jordan’s sultry voice was dripping with impossible-to-resist sexual smolder. She brought her lips to meet Harper’s again.

“We do what we have to do…” Harper echoed.

“We can discuss it in the morning.” With a kiss, Jordan gently pulled his bottom lip into her mouth and releasedit.

“That sounds really good,” Harper whispered into her ear.”I’d really like to see that view in the sunlight.”

“Good. I want you to experience it, over”—she kissed him—“and over”—another kiss—“and over again.”

This time, when they looked into each other’s eyes, Harper understood finally that they were both really here, together, in this moment on the same page. His insecurities melted.

“It’s settled, then. I’m staying,” Harper declared with certainty and sincerity.

“Good. I want you to stay.”

Jordan Armstrong wants me to stay… Harper smiled, then pressed his lips to hers and put his all into a deep, slow, sensual kiss.

Jordan wrapped her arms around him, giving him the room to tug on the tie of her kimono, letting it fall open loosely.

Harper brought his hands up the sides of her torso, slowly brushing past her supple breasts to her shoulders, caressing her softly, feeling her, reminding himself, this…

is…real… He spread his hands across her shoulders, sliding the silky fabric down Jordan’s arms and wrapping his fingers around the small of her back.

He pulled himself closer and kissed her deeply again.

She rested her arms on his shoulders, and her hand wrapped around the back of his head, guiding Harper into a tighter embrace and urgent kiss.

Harper felt the draw, the urgency, the desire to make up for lost time, the keen understanding that even if they had an eternity, there’d still be a yearning for each other.

Time was fleeting. Harper’s slacks dropped to the floor.

He stepped out of them and lifted Jordan off the counter.

Her legs wrapped around him as they got lost in one another again, serenaded by the music of longing—Sade crooning echoes of promises suspended in the air like a lover’s gentle caress.

“Cherish the Day” floated through the speakers with its wah wah guitar and deep syncopated bass … you only can rescue me…

You only, indeed, Harper thought.