chest in a defensive motion he hadn’t seen for a long time.
“You misunderstood me out there,” he growled, stalking toward her. “I don’t know if I can stay in the same house with you for two weeks and not touch you. And I don’t know if touching you would be the wisest decision right now.”
She huffed and lifted a sleek black brow at him. “Since when are you the wise one?”
Harper stopped a foot away from her, looking down into her liquid gaze. Had she been about to cry? Her eyes seemed moist. Unable to help himself he reached up to stroke a thumb across her cheekbone. “I’m not the wise one,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to screw anything up worse than it is.”
She gave him a sardonic look. “Things can’t get much worse, Harper. And I’m serious about resolving this. Do you know how many excuses I’ve had to make just to the kids about you? I know you think you’re protecting us all, but you’re not. We are a family, whether you want to admit it or not.”
He shook his head to contradict her, but his equilibrium suddenly spun away from him. Staggering, he reached out where he thought the counter had been, but Cat grabbed him first. Harper let himself lean against her as he fought nausea, his world hurling in circles.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned.
Cat tried to hold him up but he pushed her away. “Just let me go. Let me sit down.”
She let him go down but she didn’t let him go.
Harper landed on his ass hard, but in a way that helped. It gave him a definite point of reference: the cold tile beneath his ass. He closed his eyes, trying to stabilize. Cat went to her knees in front of him and braced her hands on his shoulders, another point of reference. Dragging in as much air as he could, lungs screaming, he waited for his world to still.
It took a while. Several minutes. Cat merely sat with him, her hands good hard weights on his deltoids. She didn’t chatter like a lot of women would. Just stayed there, waiting for him to tell her what he needed.
Harper dared to open his eyes. And though only one eye worked, the world stayed still.
Cat gave him an encouraging smile and sat back on her heels. “Staying solid?”
“Yeah,” he sighed.
Fuck, that was irritating. Just standing there talking and his world spun out of control. How the hell was he supposed to lead any kind of productive life if he couldn’t have a simple conversation?
“I think between standing up too fast, no food in your stomach and maybe shaking your head you knocked yourself off kilter.”
“Fucking ridiculous,” he snapped.
Cat started to jerk away but he grabbed her hand. “Not you,” he growled. “The situation. I’m so pissed right now.”
“You’re not used to being anything less than a hundred percent. At all. Your body isn’t letting you be in control anymore.”
As usual she was right. He could deal with the nausea and he could probably even deal with the loss of eyesight, but the loss of control pissed him off more than anything.
“Do you think you can get up?”
Without a word he rolled to his feet, forcing himself to act more secure than he actually was. Cat stayed directly in front of him, but his horizon stayed firm. Walking to the kitchen table he sank down into one of the chairs.
“How ’bout I make some breakfast?”
It wasn’t really a question because she had already started. Harper watched her putter around the unfamiliar kitchen, opening cupboard drawers to see where everything was. Then she dug in the fridge for a bit, setting ingredients on the marble island.
Harper became a little distracted watching her. This morning she wore a soft t-shirt he didn’t recognize and a pair of blue jeans he seemed to remember ripping off her a time or two. His anger faded away as he watched her lean body move. There was no wasted motion with her. It was one of the things that had drawn his eye when he first met her. She hadn’t been through the training he had, but she had a natural
“You misunderstood me out there,” he growled, stalking toward her. “I don’t know if I can stay in the same house with you for two weeks and not touch you. And I don’t know if touching you would be the wisest decision right now.”
She huffed and lifted a sleek black brow at him. “Since when are you the wise one?”
Harper stopped a foot away from her, looking down into her liquid gaze. Had she been about to cry? Her eyes seemed moist. Unable to help himself he reached up to stroke a thumb across her cheekbone. “I’m not the wise one,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to screw anything up worse than it is.”
She gave him a sardonic look. “Things can’t get much worse, Harper. And I’m serious about resolving this. Do you know how many excuses I’ve had to make just to the kids about you? I know you think you’re protecting us all, but you’re not. We are a family, whether you want to admit it or not.”
He shook his head to contradict her, but his equilibrium suddenly spun away from him. Staggering, he reached out where he thought the counter had been, but Cat grabbed him first. Harper let himself lean against her as he fought nausea, his world hurling in circles.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned.
Cat tried to hold him up but he pushed her away. “Just let me go. Let me sit down.”
She let him go down but she didn’t let him go.
Harper landed on his ass hard, but in a way that helped. It gave him a definite point of reference: the cold tile beneath his ass. He closed his eyes, trying to stabilize. Cat went to her knees in front of him and braced her hands on his shoulders, another point of reference. Dragging in as much air as he could, lungs screaming, he waited for his world to still.
It took a while. Several minutes. Cat merely sat with him, her hands good hard weights on his deltoids. She didn’t chatter like a lot of women would. Just stayed there, waiting for him to tell her what he needed.
Harper dared to open his eyes. And though only one eye worked, the world stayed still.
Cat gave him an encouraging smile and sat back on her heels. “Staying solid?”
“Yeah,” he sighed.
Fuck, that was irritating. Just standing there talking and his world spun out of control. How the hell was he supposed to lead any kind of productive life if he couldn’t have a simple conversation?
“I think between standing up too fast, no food in your stomach and maybe shaking your head you knocked yourself off kilter.”
“Fucking ridiculous,” he snapped.
Cat started to jerk away but he grabbed her hand. “Not you,” he growled. “The situation. I’m so pissed right now.”
“You’re not used to being anything less than a hundred percent. At all. Your body isn’t letting you be in control anymore.”
As usual she was right. He could deal with the nausea and he could probably even deal with the loss of eyesight, but the loss of control pissed him off more than anything.
“Do you think you can get up?”
Without a word he rolled to his feet, forcing himself to act more secure than he actually was. Cat stayed directly in front of him, but his horizon stayed firm. Walking to the kitchen table he sank down into one of the chairs.
“How ’bout I make some breakfast?”
It wasn’t really a question because she had already started. Harper watched her putter around the unfamiliar kitchen, opening cupboard drawers to see where everything was. Then she dug in the fridge for a bit, setting ingredients on the marble island.
Harper became a little distracted watching her. This morning she wore a soft t-shirt he didn’t recognize and a pair of blue jeans he seemed to remember ripping off her a time or two. His anger faded away as he watched her lean body move. There was no wasted motion with her. It was one of the things that had drawn his eye when he first met her. She hadn’t been through the training he had, but she had a natural
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