The Sweetest Thing (6 page)

Miss Alice had regaled her with stories about her father and about Quentin and Troy. “Don’t turn your back on them two scamps!” she’d cajoled. “They like to play practical jokes. You can’t trust ’em, especially when they get real serious-like. That only means that they up to something.”

At the end of their afternoon together Harper had learned a few family secrets and had come back with a warmer jacket, a few sweaters, and four pairs of designer shoes that would not serve her well at all if indeed it did ever snow. By the time Miss Alice dropped her off in front of the bakery all she wanted was something hot to drink, another one of those chocolate cookies, and a nap.

“Hey there,” she chimed as she passed through the kitchen.

Troy tossed up a hand in greeting. “Everything okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m doing really well. What about you?”

He nodded with her. “I can’t complain.”

“Are you sure about that? You seem to be holding up really well but how much is that for everyone else?”

“I’ve had my moments,” Troy said with a nod of his head, “but I try not to let anyone see them.”

“It’s not a bad thing if you do.”

“I know, but I’ve always had to be the strong one for Quentin, even when Pop was there to be strong for the two of us. It’s hard to come out of big-brother mode, especially during a time like this.”

“I didn’t grow up with any siblings but I think I get it,” she said with a soft smile. “So where is that brother of yours?”

Troy pointed toward the second floor. “In the guest bed probably. I don’t think he’s slept at all this week.”

She nodded. “I’ll make sure I don’t disturb him,” she said. “I think I’m going to go get a nap myself.”

Troy nodded. “I’m sure I’ll still be here when you wake up,” he said. “I’m behind on the paperwork and the quarterly taxes need to be paid.”

“I’ll get out of your way, too.”

“Get some rest. We can do dinner later when you two are up and feeling better.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said as she maneuvered herself and her bags up the back stairwell.

Closing and locking the door behind her Harper eased her way through the entrance foyer. She heard Quentin before she saw him, his deep snores vibrating through the home. She navigated her way to the family living space and peeked into the room. Sprawled across the living-room sofa, Quentin lay with one leg tossed up and resting against the back of the sofa. The other rested on the floor. There were pillows supporting his back and his head was tossed back, wedged in an awkward angle between those pillows and the sofa’s side. One arm was folded over his eyes and forehead and the other hand was cupped between his legs.

Harper stood staring, completely awed by the beauty of him. His bare chest was broad and muscular, the sinewy tissue clearly defined and smooth as a baby’s butt. His abdomen showcased some serious hard work in the near-perfect six-pack he’d clearly spent some time working on. His legs were strong and sturdy, like the solid limbs of an ancient tree. And he had very big feet. Combined with his more-cream-than-coffee complexion, he was male perfection in all of its glory. Her gaze moved back to the hand between his legs, the mere thought of what might be hiding beneath his large palm heating her senses.

Heat coursed out of control through Harper’s body. She suddenly had an overwhelming desire to strip naked, to feel his skin pressed tight against her skin. Harper was suddenly shaking, her body almost convulsing at the sheer thought of how pleasurable that might be. She turned abruptly and headed into her father’s bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Dropping her bags to the floor she pulled off her coat then took a seat against the edge of the bed. Her breathing was heavy, coming in quick gasps as she struggled to take in oxygen. Her thighs were pressed together like a vise was locked around them, her buttocks clenched tightly. She cupped her hand over her mouth, a smile fighting to steal past her fingers. She shook her head, trying to fight off the overwhelming sensations as she took one deep breath and then another.

Harper stood up, sat back down, and then stood up a second time. Her eyes widened. She took another deep breath, a wide grin lifting her full lips. Reaching for her handbag she dug through the contents for her iPad. Tiptoeing back into the family room she eased her way to Quentin’s side and engaged the camera feature on the device. A series of photographs later Harper crawled beneath the covers of the king-size bed and pulled the sheets up over her naked body.

One by one she flipped through the images she’d taken of Quentin. For a brief moment she considered deleting them but changed her mind as she continued to salivate over just how beautiful the man was. The more she stared, the more Harper became carried away.

She drew her hand across her breasts, her fingertips gliding past her belly button. Her back arched when she touched herself, her fingers moving between her slender legs. Harper was desperate for release as her hand danced against her heated flesh. She bit down against her bottom lip to keep from screaming out Quentin’s name, because she wanted to scream and his name was on the tip of her tongue. But fantasizing about Quentin’s hands and his touch wasn’t enough. She suddenly clasped her legs together tightly, clenching her hands into tight fists at her sides, fighting to stall the rise of desire that was sweeping through her.

She sucked in air, one deep breath and then a second, before turning onto her side. She took one last look at the screen image of Quentin, then powered off the device. As deep sleep overcame her, her last thoughts centered on him, her imagination fueling her dreams. Closing her eyes she slowly drifted off to sleep, wondering if Quentin could ever be persuaded to make her wanton fantasies come true. The prayer was on her lips as unconsciousness finally took her.

Harper awoke with a start. At first, she was totally disoriented, naked and shivering atop the mattress, the covers lost somewhere on the floor. Then, like a spring flood, the memories all came back to her. She looked for her iPad, the appliance having fallen to the carpeted floor and just as she reached for it, there was a heavy rapping at the bedroom door. She sat upright, thinking of the last time she’d swung it open. She grinned, suddenly wondering what Quentin might do if she repeated the encounter wearing only her birthday suit.

Tempted by the possibilities, Harper rose from the bed. As she took a step toward the door, the knock came a second time. But this time it was Troy’s voice that called her name, asking if she were interested in dinner. Her disappointment was telling, painting her expression. She was grateful that he couldn’t see her face.

“Thanks, Troy,” she called back, the door still closed between them.

“As soon as you’re ready then, we can eat,” the man answered.

Troy moved back down the hallway and returned to the kitchen. The beginnings of a late-night meal dressed the countertop and table: sliced onions, celery, and mushrooms filling a large bowl.

As Troy searched the refrigerator, Quentin joined his brother in the kitchen, finally showered and dressed. A quick glance passed between the two men as Troy dropped pasta into a pot of boiling water. The decadent aroma of a highly seasoned cream sauce simmered in a saucepan.

“Feeling better?” Troy asked.

Quentin nodded. “I didn’t mean to sleep that long.” He glanced at the clock on the wall, still not believing that it was already after ten o’clock. His brother had closed the bakery hours ago and was prepping their evening meal. Had Troy not wakened him he would probably still be asleep.

“What time did she get back?” Quentin questioned, gesturing toward the upstairs bedroom. His voice was just a hint above a whisper.

“Before six, I think. The crew was just starting the evening cleanup.”

Quentin shook his head. “I can’t believe I fell asleep on the couch.”

“And naked!” Troy added.

Quentin laughed. “I wasn’t naked.”

“You were lying around in your drawers. You were naked,” his brother said with his own chuckle.

“Do you think she saw me? I mean, she really didn’t have any reason to go in there, right?”

“She saw you.”

Quentin shook his head, heat flaming his cheeks at the thought. “I don’t think so. She probably just went right up to Pop’s room and passed out. She didn’t see me!” he said, his tone hopeful.

Just then Harper entered the room. “I saw you,” she said nonchalantly, tossing Troy a wink of her eye. “You were practically buck naked.”

Troy laughed heartily.

Quentin tossed her a snarl. “I was not naked!” he exclaimed.

“Well, I liked your tighty-whities,” she said as she took the seat opposite him. “So much so I took a picture of them for posterity.” She leaned back, meeting his gaze.

Troy pointed a finger at his brother and busted out laughing a second time. “I want copies,” he said teasingly.

Quentin shook his head. “You did not take my picture,” he said, his teeth clenched.

Harper smiled, shrugging her shoulders. “Okay. If you say so, I did not take your picture.”

He leaned across the table, his index finger waving in her face. “You better not have taken my picture!”

Harper’s smile was wide and bright. “Okay!”

“I mean it, Harper!”

“I said okay!” she intoned, still grinning.

Quentin shook his head. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, pretending to throw a tantrum. “I saw Harper naked this morning,” he said, shifting his eyes to look at Troy. “She opened the door and she was naked.” He stuck his tongue out at her, his own eyebrows arched sky high.

Harper laughed, her eyes widening. “I was not naked. I just wasn’t fully dressed.”

“Neither was I!”

Troy shook his head as he placed a platter of fettuccine and a bowl of salad onto the table. “Do I need to move in here to chaperone you two? There’s a whole lot of seeing each other naked going on! Wait until I tell Miss Alice!”

“Don’t you dare!” both Quentin and Harper chimed at the same time and laughter rang harmoniously through the room.

 

 

Harper didn’t have a clue what time it was but she knew it was late. The trio had laughed and teased each other until almost two o’clock in the morning when Troy insisted he was going home to his own bed. She and Quentin walked him down and out to his car and as he pulled off, the first hint of winter started to fall from the sky.

“Do you see that?” Quentin questioned.

“See what?”

“That,” he answered, pointing toward the sky.

Harper looked up and the first flakes of new snow fell against her face. She smiled. “And?”

“And it’s snowing! I told you I know what I’m talking about!” He laughed.

Shaking her head Harper let him have his moment before she commented. “It’ll be gone by morning, I’m sure.”

Before heading back up to the apartment, neither could resist sneaking into the sealed cookie container, filling a plate. Back upstairs, Quentin poured two large glasses of milk for them to drink with their treats.

“What time do you have to start baking?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I’ll prep a half batch of croissants in a little bit, but I’m thinking we won’t have a crowd tomorrow. If it snows like I think it will we probably won’t be open long. The city will shut down and except for an occasional walker who might pop in to get warm no one will be out.”

She shook her head, her expression disbelieving. “Quentin, not to burst your bubble, but this is Memphis.”

“Your point?”

“It doesn’t snow in Memphis!”

He laughed. “You’ll see!”

The two talked for another hour before Quentin went back downstairs to work and Harper headed to bed. The conversation had been easy and light-hearted and both had enjoyed it immensely.

Tossing back the bedcovers Harper threw her legs off the side of the bed. Rising, she opened the blinds to peer outside. Everything outside the window was bright white, blanketed in a heavy coating of snow. Snow and ice hung heavy from the tree branches in the one tree in the rear yard and the green grass that had been there the day before was now nowhere to be found. Harper laughed, already knowing that Quentin was going to have a field day bragging about having told her so.

Dropping back to the bedside she reached for the iPad beneath the pillow and signed into her e-mail. After checking her messages and responding to a number of inquiries, she couldn’t help but take a peek at the file of photos she’d been coveting like gold, and smile.

By the time Harper was showered and dressed it was almost noon. She couldn’t begin to imagine why Quentin had let her sleep so long. When she opened the room door she could hear the low, woeful hum of a saxophone coming from the floor below. The slow, soft, bluesy tone made her feel sad and content in the same breath and she instinctively knew that the music captured every emotion the man playing had probably ever felt.

Standing in that hallway Harper suddenly had the overwhelming sense that there was something more that she was meant to find in good ol’ Memphis. The revelation was suddenly haunting and then as easily as the music had swept through the home, it stopped. The house grew quiet save for the sound of the floorboards creaking beneath her feet.

Moving down the short length of hallway and then the few short stairs, she found Quentin in the family room, undoing the instrument’s single-reed mouthpiece. The instrument had been polished to a high shine and seemed almost new from the care it had been given. Quentin looked up as she came into the room and a gentle smile filled his handsome face.

“You play beautifully,” she said, her soft tone causing a shiver of energy to course along his spine.

An expression of gratitude flickered in his eyes but he only shrugged as he dropped the instrument back into its case and closed the top. He tossed her another smile and Harper felt a quick flutter in the pit of her stomach.

“I used to love to watch Pop play when I was little. I wanted to be just like him so I begged him to teach me. When he finally did he made me practice twenty-four seven. It was all I could ever do. He said that if I really wanted it I had to work hard for it, no exception. I realize now that he thought if he was hard enough on me I’d either give it up or I would be the best sax player that I could ever be.”

“I bet he was very proud that you didn’t give up,” she said, moving to his side. She ran a manicured hand over the black leather container. Lifting her eyes to his, something neither one of them could articulate passed between them. The wealth of emotion was intoxicating and consuming. Without thinking Quentin took a step closer to her.

Harper took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of him. The aroma, a light, sweet musk, was teasing and sensuous. His breath seemed to be coming in a heavy pulse and she stood watching his chest rise and fall, thinking of the warm brown flesh that lay beneath the black T-shirt he was wearing. She felt her own breath quickening. Both could feel a rise of tension billowing between them.

“You owe me something,” Quentin suddenly said, shifting the energy. He put some distance between them as he dropped down into one of the cushioned chairs.

“Owe you what?”

“It snowed, girl! I know you looked out the window,” he exclaimed. His enthusiasm was infectious.

Harper laughed. “So it snowed! What about it?”

“I’m sure we made a bet on it and you lost.”

“Well you’re wrong. We did not bet on it.”

Quentin snapped his fingers, pretending to be disappointed. “Shucks! I know I should have bet you something,” he said with a deep chortle.

She shook her head. “So, is the bakery officially closed?”

He nodded. “We are. I opened for a few hours and one or two regulars came by for coffee but that was about it. The roads are really bad. It’s not worth being open the whole day.”

She nodded. “I really can’t believe it snowed!”

“The roads will be clear by Monday. It really isn’t that bad.”

“It’s still snow,” Harper said. “In Memphis!”

Quentin laughed. “So, how about something to eat. Are you hungry?”

Harper giggled a second time. “You must think that all I ever do is eat!”

“I like a woman with a healthy appetite.”

“I think I surpassed ‘healthy’ two meals ago!”

He gestured for Harper to follow him into the kitchen. “I figure we can have something light to eat and then go play. We can have something else when we get back.”

Her eyes widened. “Play? Play what? Where?”

Quentin’s face broke into a full tooth-filled grin. “In the snow of course, where else?” he chimed excitedly.

 

 

With the very first throw both Quentin and Harper kicked into competitive mode. Quentin had been certain that he was going to be on the winning end of their playful rivalry but he wasn’t at all prepared for the onslaught of snowballs she was hammering him with. With her small stature she was quick on her feet, fast as lightning, and her aim was near perfect.

He cursed as he swiped a boatload of snow from his eyes and mouth. Harper was laughing heartily, tears rolling from her eyes. She was beet red from the cold but joy shimmered in her warm gaze knowing that she’d bested him.

“Okay! Okay! You win!” Quentin chimed as he tossed his hands up in the air in surrender.

Harper jumped up and down excitedly, clapping her gloved hands together. “Oh, yeah!” she cheered. She was doing a little victory dance in the center of Beale Street, a moonwalk-cabbage-patch choreography that made him laugh out loud.

He shook his head. “Where did you learn to throw like that?”

“I pitched for the Lady Lions softball team. We were state champs three years running.” She broke out into a cheer. “Go, Harper! Do your thing, girl! Go, Harper!”

Quentin shook his head and turned his back on her, moving toward the bakery’s entrance. One last snowball popped him good on the back of his head. The shock of it stunned him as he turned back in her direction. Harper pointed a finger at him as she laughed heartily. The challenge was on as Quentin suddenly gave chase. Harper darted between two parked cars to avoid his catching her. Both were laughing hysterically and when she spun right expecting him to go left, he caught up with her, grabbing her by the waist and sweeping her into the air.

He dropped her onto a mound of snow and fell down against her, pinning her to the ground with his body. Harper struggled but he held her tight, his body pressed nicely against hers. Both were breathing heavily. Quentin stared down at her, completely mesmerized. He smiled as she gasped for air, fighting to catch her breath. Small gusts of air blowing past her lips felt hot against his cheeks. His face was just inches from hers and as he held her hostage by her wrists he couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to kiss the cold from her lips, to taste her mouth as it warmed beneath his own.