When Its Least Expected Page 17
Slowly, so as not to get consumed with dizziness again, Harley settled her bare feet on
the floor, standing to move to her favorite wing back reading chair. With her lips still protruding in irritation, she covered her legs with a warm fleece blanket. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed as she leaned back to close her eyes once more. Crap, she needed more sleep.
She’d never make it through the night at this rate.
“Okay Harley, I’m thinking we should work with your curls and leave your hair mostly
down.” Abigail stalked a circle around Harley’s chair, eying every inch of her strands, pulling and prodding along the way.
Then Abigail pulled out the bristled brush, running it from scalp to ends. She hissed as it pulled the knots. Harley’s hair was a massive mess. Guess she shouldn’t have taken a nap with a wet head, but amazingly, minutes later, Abigail’s magic touch took over. The pain turned
soothing, enough so that Abigail’s words became almost muted.
“Hello? Are you even listening to me?” Abigail yanked a curl, and Harley winced,
narrowing her eyes as she stared over her shoulder at her best friend.
“Watch it, I’m … sensitive.”
Abigail held her hands up, and grinned. “Okay, fine … cranky,”
Harley shook her head but didn’t speak. She was too busy concentrating on all the
different ways she could hold her back her sneezes. She could use the finger under the nose trick, but that might get messy. Then there was the whole hold her breath thing too, but that would ultimately end in her eye balls exploding. Not. Cool.
“Anyways, as I was saying … I can pin a few curls on top or maybe even a couple of
little braids circling around to the back? The rest can be left down in some wavy mermaid curls.
What do you think?” At this point, all Harley cared about was a) staying awake and b) keeping her snot to a minimum.
“Whatever you want to do, Abs. I’m all yours. Besides, I can’t get much worse than I
already am, right?” Abigail grinned around a mouthful of bobby pins, not at all denying her question. Damn her.
With one eyebrow raised, Harley sucked in a breath as she took in the massive amount of
hair supplies once more. God had to give her strength, especially if he didn’t want her to poke her best friend in the eye with a bobby pin.
***
Harley gasped; a harsh throbbing in her head forced her eyes open. She cracked her neck
to the side attempting to ease the pain just as the soft voices of her mom and Abigail echoed behind her. She almost spoke until their quiet conversation turned juicy.
“Abigail, do you honestly think this Mason guy is good enough for her? I mean I met him
and all, and he seems nice enough. Though the way she was acting earlier in week made me
question whether she was ready for the dating thing again,” said the mother who pushed the
dating issues in the first place.
Ugh. They were gossiping like old biddies again. “I mean, it’s only been two years since
… you know, and for a while there, I never thought she’d get beyond it.” Harley bit her tongue.
This conversation was way too irritating to listen in on, yet she couldn’t stop.
“I don’t know, Mrs. A. The guy seems to care about her and all, but there are times when
I’m not even sure if he, well, you know…” Huh, well it was nice to know her bestie was in her corner. “I’m afraid that if he finds out, he may freak, he’s seems like the runner,”
A runner – Abigail’s definition of a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. Yeah, that was
probably true about Mason; she knew it the moment she met him. Deep down, Harley was kind
of hoping she was wrong.
Harley dug her fingernails into her palm, and her blood began to boil with their continued
conversation. “I heard that the guy’s not even gonna be here that long anyways. Something about him going back to Santa Cruz when he turned eighteen to pursue a surfing career.” Harley’s
breath hitched in her throat, and her eyes widened in surprise. That was news, but then again, she should have known. Any kind of relationship with Mason was doomed from the beginning.
Shoulders sagging, heart despondent, Harley tilted her head to the side, trying to hear a
little more clearly but not fully wanting to accept what the two of them obviously already knew.
“I guess he wasn’t even going to come here at all.” Hmm, now where did Abigail get her
sources?
It went eerily quiet. Harley fought back her tears, and her eyes squeezed shut. Crappity,
crap – she shouldn’t be crying. “The last thing I want is for her to become attached. I think if he left, Abs, then that would be her undoing again. I can’t have her going back again,”
“It’s going to be up to her, Mrs. A. Only Harley knows what she truly wants, and if she
feels ready to date again, then there’s nothing we can do to stop her.”
“I know, Abs, but I’m still worried.”
“Yeah, I know. Me too.”
Harley sighed, flicking the lint off her blanket while pondering what to say next. Hell,
what would they say next? She should tell them all to go to hell or maybe she should be hugging them instead. They were just looking out for her, right? Besides, some things were better left unsaid. Their opinions were their own, not hers, but they were right with one aspect. If she wanted to date Mason, then she’d sure as hell do it. Their opinions didn’t matter. The only one that did matter was her own.
“Let’s wake sleeping beauty. She’s only got a half hour to get dressed before Mason gets
here, and I still need to do her make up.” That was Abigail for you, always worried about
completing her beauty regiments.
Their conversation wasn’t leaving Harley’s head anytime soon. The sound of her mom’s
worried voice, Abigail’s voice missing her normal spunk, but it wasn’t the time to worry. Her head already hurt too much as it was from being sick. There was no point in making it worse.
Harley yawned, stretching her arms over her head in a show of awakening. “You better
watch your hair, girl. I just spent a good hour trying to get that stuff on your head just right. The last thing I need is for you to mess up my masterpiece!” Harley smiled. Abigail always could bring her out of the funk, even if she did like to talk about her behind her back with her scheming mother.
“I’m sorry …” Harley yawned deeply again, and this time it was genuine. “I must have
fallen asleep. It was probably the cold meds Mom made me take earlier.”
“Yeah, she did mention something about that …” Abigail looked at Harley, her head
tilted as she clicked her tongue against her bottom lip. “I kind of freaked out when you just fell asleep. One minute we were chatting, and then the next, boom! You were out of this world
passed out. I kept poking you. I even checked your breathing and pulse too.”
Harley giggled, “I mean, I kept thinking to myself, who sleeps like that?”
The rustle of plastic drew Harley’s attention towards the door. Her mother was there, her
arms overflowing with a clear garment bag filled with all things pink.
Oh yeah … the dress.
“Alright, sweet thing, I’ve got your –”
Her mother’s hand went to her mouth as a small squeal leaked behind her fingers. Harley
turned to look over at her smug looking best friend, only to turn and refocus on her mother again.
Crap … she really must have looked like shit. Self-consciously, she patted her eyes. They
burned. Then she pressed a hand again her cheeks. Yep, hot as hell.
“Oh, honey, sickness and all … You are so stunning.” Harley sighed, the woman was
“Come on, Mom. Don’t get all weepy on me. My head already hurts badly enough.” Her
mother’s cold fingers brushed over her forehead as the confession spilled from Harley’s mouth.
Her mom grimaced, “You feel kind of warm, honey. Are you sure you’re up to going?”
Harley sighed, maddened with the woman’s worry only to turn and glance at herself in the mirror a second later.
Her eyes bulged. Whoa. That wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. She didn’t look that good, but as
she placed her fingers upon her newly styled curls, she almost did a giddy little happy dance. She kind of did look… What was it that her mother said, stunning?
“Besides,” her mom stood next to her, cupping Harley’s cheeks. Harley smiled at the
woman who would forever be her worst enemy while also her other best friend, “…can’t a mom
just have a moment to enjoy her beautiful daughter?” Harley sighed, nodding softly.
“Harley, she’s right you know,” Abigail wistfully stepped in. “You’re gorgeous, and you
don’t even have that killer dress on yet.” Harley glanced at the mirror again; eyes focused solely this time on the sad reflection of her best friend.
Abigail had been to every dance every year now since they were freshmen, but for the
first time ever, she wasn’t going. Damn David. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate both of you helping me out.” Apparently there was a fire she didn’t know about because the sprinklers in her
mother’s and best friend’s eyes became endless.
Jesus, she had two of the most emotional women in her life. “Come on, you two. I’m
going to a dance, not getting married. Can we just get that dress on before Mason gets here? I don’t wanna be late. Or naked.”
At her order, they snapped out of it and became all business while scrambling around the
room this way and that. They were tornados of crazy, sweeping this thing and that, zipping here, powdering there. God, she could almost see her wedding now.
Vegas would surely be in order at this rate.
Then her clothes went off, and the dress went on just as perfectly as she had remembered.
Her mouth fell open. Wowzas. The quick trip to the dress shop hadn’t done her justice. She
blinked – once, twice, and then she twirled, yes twirled, like a girly, giddy ballerina.
She really did look like something out of a fairy tale.
* * *
His nerves were shot, and standing in front of Harley’s house was his final straw. Would
he ever get over this anxiety? He wasn’t used to it! It pissed him off too. With a pink corsage in hand, he breathed in and out, building up the courage to actually knock. Before he was able to follow through with the act, someone swung it open, a very cranky looking David.
“What?” He snarled, hastily whipping the door open just enough to let Mason slip in.
“What’s up, David?”
Mason carefully treaded as he followed his chair inside. They landed in the kitchen,
David wheeled around to face him. His mouth was straight, anger fumed behind his eyes. Mason cringed. Yeah, okay, so he was obviously still mad about the porch thing.
Mason squirmed as David’s narrowed eyes continued to scrutinize him. Minutes ticked
by. God, where was Harley? He checked his cell phone. He stared at the wall. Still, David sat there. Not saying a word. Not averting his eyes. Nothing.
“So, you’re Mason, I presume?” He stiffened, turning to face a big, burly man with a
beard. Mountain man. Big. Scary. Mason was ready to pass out.
Then the man outstretched his arm, palm wide open. Mason stared down at it. What? Did
he not want to hit him then? Mason took his firm grip, the guy actually smiled at him. He could finally breathe, barely.
“It’s good to officially meet you face to face, son. I’m Craig Anderson.” His grip was
firm, full of challenge, acceptance maybe too? His stern face also said: if you hurt my daughter, I’ll kill you. Just like David’s. Shit. The Anderson boys meant business. He might have admired it if it weren’t for the fact that his heart was lurching into his throat. They scared the absolute shit out of him.
“Umm, you too, sir,” Mason replied smoothly, thankful that his voice had managed to
stay even.
“Please, just call me Craig. ‘Mr. Anderson’ makes me feel so damn old.” Mason’s
tension eased at his words. At least one man in Harley’s life seemed to have a sense of humor.
David was going to be a hard sell though apparently.
There they were, just three dudes hanging out, two on the couch, one sitting in a chair
with eye brows that appeared to be permanently glued together. Awkward silence hovered.
Mason tapped his hand on his knee, Mr. Anderson cleared his throat, and David … shit. Was he cracking his knuckles?
Footsteps and giggles came clattering down the hall. Mason bolted from the couch. Any
reason to move from those scary guys was good enough for him.
His hands suddenly sweating, his heart was thumping in his temples, but the annoying
body issues failed to exist the moment she finally stood before him.
Holy. Shit.
The floor dipped beneath his feet and sucked him away, metaphorically speaking of
course, but it might as well have because the girl absolutely took his breath away.
That sexy pink dress, that satiny skin … Jesus, was that her? Mason swallowed a moan.
Yeah, the big burly men wouldn’t exactly appreciate that one. Yep, they were still there too watching him, most likely plotting ways to tie him up and torture him if he screwed up. Still, his eyes never left Harley. The world could stop spinning, the house could be burning down around him, and still, all he would ever see was her.
He started at the lower half of her body below that fantastic pink dress. Bare and sheen
calves held feet adorned with strappy high heeled shoes that did nothing but lengthen her
gorgeous legs. Mason licked his lips. He wanted to touch her. All of her. He followed the length of her barely there dress and swallowed, attempting to wet his dry throat, when he finally made it to her neck line. One shoulder was bare while the other held only a tiny strip of fabric.
Then she stepped full on in front of him, and the lack of fabric was forgotten as he stared into her muddy brown eyes. They melted his heart and stole his breath every single time he
stared into them.
“Hey,” he croaked, attempting a half-hearted smile but failed miserably.
“Hey back,” she teased, brushing one of her wispy curls away from her face.
Someone cleared their throat, and Mason lost focus. His face burned as he remembered
they had an audience.
“Umm, so let’s get you both together for a picture before you have to skedaddle, shall
we?”
Mason nodded, wetting his lips. Harley stood stock straight, her knuckles cracking at her
sides. The knuckle cracking must have been a twin thing. She was nervous though; that was
more than obvious. He’d fix that once he got her alone.
Slowly, he reached for her hand, drawing her inappropriately close to his body. He
should have been more careful, more cautious, but he couldn’t help it. He needed her near him.
She was his water in a drought filled land, and he was burning up. Dehydrated. Dying.
“God, Harley, you look … incredible. Perfect...” He cupped both of her hands together
and brought them to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Everyone around them
disappeared in that moment. It was only Harley and Mason, eyes locked, gazes unwavering.
Harley smiled
shyly at him. Her face blushed a shade of pink that put her dress to shame.
It wasn’t the dress making the girl; it was the girl making the dress. She was a vision, his vision.
“Thanks. You don’t look too shabby yourself, surfer boy.” She freed her hand and ran it down the front of his hot pink and black tie. He shivered. Damn, when had he become a shivering kind of dude?
He cleared his throat. “What do you say? You ready to get out of here?” He leaned
forward, unable to stay away any longer. He had to touch her somehow.
His lips grazed the tip of her ear. He wanted to latch down, but her parents along with
David and Abigail were there, arguing over something. He clenched his fists into his pockets. He couldn’t keep them at bay much longer. Harley was way too irresistible to avoid, especially with her soft, freckled skin so easily accessible to his fingertips.
Harley nodded, looking every bit as mesmerized as he was. “Okay, let’s do this.” Mason
held out his elbow, and she grabbed hold. He grinned. He couldn’t stop grinning. “Mom, Dad?
Can we hurry and get these pictures taken? We’ve gotta go get Mason’s sister and her date.”
Mason didn’t bother correcting her. They had at least forty-five minutes before they had
to go and get them. He had other plans though. God, he just hoped they didn’t blow up in his face.
“Sure, honey,” her mom blinked, a few wet tears escaped down her cheeks, and Mason
turned back towards Harley, noting the quick roll of her eyes. Mason shook his head, chuckling at them both.
After the pictures were done, Mason stood bouncing on his feet attempting to make small
talk with Abigail and Harley’s parents while Harley stepped off to talk with her brother. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her no matter where she went, and the conversation around him quickly became unrecognizable. Harley held his attention, one hundred percent. He watched her, studied her, noting the sudden stiffness in her shoulders as she waved one finger down at her brother. He fought the temptation to go to her, curling his toes in his shoes. Whatever they were discussing, it obviously wasn’t his business.
“She looks beautiful doesn’t she?” Mason jumped. Harley’s mom stood at his side. He